When Pylos returned the girl came with him, shy as ever. Behind her, shuffling and hopping in that queer sideways walk of his, came her fool. On his head was a mock helm fashioned from an old tin bucket, with a rack of deer antlers strapped to the crown and hung with cowbells. With his every lurching step, the bells rang, each with a different voice, clang-a-dang bong-dong ring-a-ling clong clong clong.
小女孩跟著派洛斯一起進來,羞怯一如往常。在她身后拖步輕跳、古怪橫行的,則是她的弄臣。他戴著一頂老舊錫桶做的玩具頭盔,頂端捆了兩根鹿角,上面掛著牛鈴,隨著他的蹣跚腳步而發出不同聲響:鏗啷當、碰咚、鈴鈴、嗑啷啷。
Who comes to see us so early, Pylos? Cressen said.
“派洛斯,是誰一大早來拜訪我們?”克禮森問。
It's me and Patches, Maester. Guileless blue eyes blinked at him. Hers was not a pretty face, alas. The child had her lord father's square jut of jaw and her mother's unfortunate ears, along with a disfigurement all her own, the legacy of the bout of greyscale that had almost claimed her in the crib. Across half one cheek and well down her neck, her flesh was stiff and dead, the skin cracked and flaking, mottled black and grey and stony to the touch. "Pylos said we might see the white raven."
“師傅,是我和阿丁。”她天真無瑕的藍眼睛朝他直眨,只可惜她的臉蛋并不漂亮。這孩子不僅有她父親突出的方下巴,而且很不幸地繼承了她母親那雙耳朵。除此之外,她年幼時曾感染灰鱗病,險些喪命,后雖逃過一劫,卻留下可怕的殘缺:半邊臉頰直到頸部下方,皮膚全部僵硬壞死,表面干裂,層層剝落,夾雜著黑灰斑點,撫觸起來宛如硬石。“派洛斯說可以讓我們看看白鴉。”
Indeed you may, Cressen answered. As if he would ever deny her. She had been denied too often in her time. Her name was Shireen. She would be ten on her next name day, and she was the saddest child that Maester Cressen had ever known.
“當然可以。”克禮森回答。他怎么忍心拒絕她?難道她失去的還不夠多嗎?她名叫希琳,就快滿十歲了,而她是克禮森學士所見過最哀傷的孩子。