評論
打印
JON
瓊恩
A blowing rain lashed at Jon's face as he spurred his horse across the swollen stream. Beside him, Lord Commander Mormont gave the hood of his cloak a tug, muttering curses on the weather. His raven sat on his shoulder, feathers ruffled, as soaked and grumpy as the Old Bear himself. A gust of wind sent wet leaves flapping round them like a flock of dead birds. The haunted forest, Jon thought ruefully. The drowned forest, more like it.
狂風夾著細雨，抽打在瓊恩臉上，他踢踢馬刺，跨過漲水的溪流。在他身旁，莫爾蒙總司令扯緊斗篷的兜帽，喃喃地詛咒著天氣。他的烏鴉停在肩上，風弄皺了羽毛，使它看來和熊老本人一樣又濕又躁。朔風突起，濕葉紛飛，好似一群死亡的飛鳥。鬼影森林啊，瓊恩可憐兮兮地想，不如說是水淹森林。
He hoped Sam was holding up, back down the column. He was not a good rider even in fair weather, and six days of rain had made the ground treacherous, all soft mud and hidden rocks. When the wind blew, it drove the water right into their eyes. The Wall would be flowing off to the south, the melting ice mingling with warm rain to wash down in sheets and rivers. Pyp and Toad would be sitting near the fire in the common room, drinking cups of mulled wine before their supper. Jon envied them. His wet wool clung to him sodden and itching, his neck and shoulders ached fiercely from the weight of mail and sword, and he was sick of salt cod, salt beef, and hard cheese.
他暗自希望跟在后面的山姆還撐得住。就算天氣和煦，他也騎得不好，而今，雨下了整整六天，路況變得十分兇險，處處是軟泥和碎石。狂風卷起，漫天的雨落入眼睛。溫暖的雨水混合融雪，注滿所有的小溪與河流，讓人以為南方的長城也說不定會被它們沖垮。此刻，派普和陶德一定會坐在大廳的爐火邊，喝著晚餐前的開胃熱葡萄酒。瓊恩羨慕他們。他自己一身浸透的羊毛衣粘在身上，濕漉發癢，脖子和肩膀則因盔甲與長劍的重量而壓得疼痛，更難受的是，他已徹底受夠了鹽鱈魚，咸牛肉和硬奶酪的滋味。
Up ahead a hunting horn sounded a quavering note, half drowned beneath the constant patter of the rain. "Buckwell's horn," the Old Bear announced. "The gods are good; Craster's still there." His raven gave a single flap of his big wings, croaked "Corn," and ruffled his feathers up again.
前方，一只獵號發出震顫的聲調，隔著交織的急雨顯得分外朦朧。“是布克威爾，”熊老宣布，“諸神保佑，卡斯特總算沒挪窩。”他的烏鴉把大黑翅膀扇了一扇，嘶啞地叫聲“玉米”，便又繼續整理羽毛。
