grrm.astormofswords-第112章

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　Lothar　gave　a　good…natured　laugh。　〃Let　us　pray　your　marriage　ends　as　happily；　my　lord。〃
　And　may　the　gods　protect　us　if　it　does　not。　Catelyn　pressed　her　heels　into　her　horse；　leaving　her　brother　and　Lame　Lothar　to　each　other's　pany。
　It　had　been　her　who　had　insisted　that　Jeyne　remain　at　Riverrun；　when　Robb　would　sooner　have　kept　her　by　his　side。　Lord　Walder　might　well　construe　the　queen's　absence　from　the　wedding　as　another　slight；　yet　her　presence　would　have　been　a　different　sort　of　insult；　salt　in　the　old　man's　wound。　〃Walder　Frey　has　a　sharp　tongue　and　a　long　memory；〃　she　had　warned　her　son。　〃I　do　not　doubt　that　you　are　strong　enough　to　suffer　an　old　man's　rebukes　as　the　price　of　his　allegiance；　but　you　have　too　much　of　your　father　in　you　to　sit　there　while　he　insults　Jeyne　to　her　face。〃
　Robb　could　not　deny　the　sense　of　that。　Yet　all　the　same；　he　resents　me　for　it；　Catelyn　thought　wearily。　He　misses　leyne　already；　and　some　part　of　him　blames　me　for　her　absence；　though　he　knows　it　was　good　counsel。
　Of　the　six　Westerlings　who　had　e　with　her　son　from　the　Crag；　only　one　remained　by　his　side；　Ser　Raynald；　Jeyne's　brother；　the　royal　banner…bearer。　Robb　had　dispatched　Jeyne's　uncle　Rolph　Spicer　to　deliver　young　Martyn　Lannister　to　the　Golden　Tooth　the　very　day　he　received　Lord　Tywin's　assent　to　the　exchange　of　captives。　it　was　deftly　done。　Her　son　was　relieved　of　his　fear　for　Martyn's　safety；　Galbart　Glover　was　relieved　to　hear　that　his　brother　Robett　had　been　put　on　a　ship　at　Duskendale；　Ser　Rolph　had　important　and　honorable　employment　。　。　。　and　Grey　Wind　was　at　the　king's　side　once　more。　Where　he　belongs。
　Lady　Westerling　had　remained　at　Riverrun　with　her　children；　Jeyne；　her　little　sister　Eleyna；　and　young　Rollam；　Robb's　squire；　who　plained　bitterly　about　being　left。　Yet　that　was　wise　as　well。　Olyvar　Frey　had　squired　for　Robb　previously；　and　would　doubtless　be　present　for　his　sister's　wedding；　to　parade　his　replacement　before　him　would　be　as　unwise　as　it　was　unkind。　As　for　Ser　Raynald；　he　was　a　cheerful　young　knight　who　swore　that　no　insult　of　Walder　Frey's　could　possibly　provoke　him。　And　let　us　pray　that　insults　are　all　we　need　to　contend　with。
　Catelyn　had　her　fears　on　that　score；　though。　Her　lord　father　had　never　trusted　Walder　Frey　after　the　Trident；　and　she　was　ever　mindful　of　that。　Queen　Jeyne　would　be　safest　behind　the　high；　strong　walls　of　Riverrun；　with　the　Blackfish　to　protect　her。　Robb　had　even　created　him　a　new　title；　Warden　of　the　Southern　Marches。　Ser　Brynden　would　hold　the　Trident　if　any　man　could。
　All　the　same；　Catelyn　would　miss　her　uncle's　craggy　face；　and　Robb　would　miss　his　counsel。　Ser　Brynden　had　played　a　part　in　every　victory　her　son　had　won。　Galbart　Glover　had　taken　mand　of　the　scouts　and　outriders　in　his　place；　a　good　man；　loyal　and　steady；　but　without　the　Blackfish's　brilliance。
　Behind　Glover's　screen　of　scouts；　Robb's　line　of　march　stretched　several　miles。　The　Greatjon　led　the　van。　Catelyn　traveled　in　the　main　column；　surrounded　by　plodding　warhorses　with　steelclad　men　on　their　backs。　Next　came　the　baggage　train；　a　procession　of　wayns　laden　with　food；　fodder；　camp　supplies；　wedding　gifts；　and　the　wounded　too　weak　to　walk；　under　the　watchful　eye　of　Ser　Wendel　Manderly　and　his　White　Harbor　knights。　Herds　of　sheep　and　goats　and　scrawny　cattle　trailed　behind；　and　then　a　little　tail　of　footsore　camp　followers。　Even　farther　back　was　Robin　Flint　and　the　rearguard。　There　was　no　enemy　in　back　of　them　for　hundreds　of　leagues；　but　Robb　would　take　no　chances。
　Thirty…five　hundred　they　were；　thirty…five　hundred　who　had　been　blooded　in　the　Whispering　Wood；　who　had　reddened　their　swords　at　the　Battle　of　the　Camps；　at　Oxcross；　Ashemark；　and　the　Crag；　and　all　through　the　gold…rich　hills　of　the　Lannister　west。　Aside　from　her　brother　Edmure's　modest　retinue　of　friends；　the　lords　of　the　Trident　had　remained　to　hold　the　riverlands　while　the　king　retook　the　north。　Ahead　awaited　Edmure's　bride　and　Robb's　next　battle　。　。　。　and　for　me；　two　dead　sons；　an　empty　bed；　and　a　castle　full　of　ghosts。　It　was　a　cheerless　prospect。　Brienne；　where　are　you？　Bring　my　girls　back　to　me；　Brienne。　Bring　them　back　safe。
　The　drizzle　that　had　sent　them　off　turned　into　a　soft　steady　rain　by　midday；　and　continued　well　past　nightfall。　The　next　day　the　northmen　never　saw　the　sun　at　all；　but　rode　beneath　leaden　skies　with　their　hoods　pulled　up　to　keep　the　water　from　their　eyes。　It　was　a　heavy　rain；　turning　roads　to　mud　and　fields　to　quagmires；　swelling　the　rivers　and　stripping　the　trees　of　their　leaves。　The　constant　patter　made　idle　chatter　more　bother　than　it　was　worth；　so　men　spoke　only　when　they　had　something　to　say；　and　that　was　seldom　enough。
　〃We　are　stronger　than　we　seem；　my　lady；〃　Lady　Maege　Mormont　said　as　they　rode。　Catelyn　had　grown　fond　of　Lady　Maege　and　her　eldest　daughter；　Dacey；　they　were　more　understanding　than　most　in　the　matter　of　Jaime　Lannister；　she　had　found。　The　daughter　was　tall　and　lean；　the　mother　short　and　stout；　but　they　dressed　alike　in　mail　and　leather；　with　the　black　bear　of　House　Mormont　on　shield　and　surcoat。　By　Catelyn's　lights；　that　was　queer　garb　for　a　lady；　yet　Dacey　and　Lady　Maege　seemed　more　fortable；　both　as　warriors　and　as　women；　than　ever　the　girl　from　Tarth　had　been。
　〃I　have　fought　beside　the　Young　Wolf　in　every　battle；〃　Dacey　Mormont　said　cheerfully。　〃He　has　not　lost　one　yet。〃
　No；　but　he　has　lost　everything　else；　Catelyn　thought；　but　it　would　not　do　to　say　it　aloud。　The　northmen　did　not　lack　for　courage；　but　they　were　far　from　home；　with　little　enough　to　sustain　them　but　for　their　faith　in　their　young　king。　That　faith　must　be　protected；　at　all　costs。　I　must　be　stronger；　she　told　herself。　I　must　be　strong　for　Robb。　If　I　despair；　my　grief　will　consume　me。　Everything　would　turn　on　this　marriage。　If　Edmure　and　Roslin　were　happy　in　one　another；　if　the　Late　Lord　Frey　could　be　appeased　and　his　power　once　more　wedded　to　Robb's　。　。　。　Even　then；　what　chance　will　we　have；　caught　between　Lannister　and　Greyjoy？　It　was　a　question　Catelyn　dared　not　dwell　on；　though　Robb　dwelt　on　little　else。　She　saw　how　he　studied　his　maps　whenever　they　made　camp；　searching　for　some　plan　that　might　win　back　the　north。
　Her　brother　Edmure　had　other　cares。　〃You　don't　suppose　all　Lord　Walder's　daughters　look　like　him；　do　you？〃　he　wondered；　as　he　sat　in　his　tall　striped　pavilion　with　Catelyn　and　his　friends。
　〃With　so　many　different　mothers；　a　few　of　the　maids　are　bound　to　turn　up　ely；〃　said　Ser　Marq　Piper；　〃but　why　should　the　old　wretch　give　you　a　pretty　one？〃
　〃No　reason　at　all；〃　said　Edmure　in　a　glum　tone。
　It　was　more　than　Catelyn　could　stand。　〃Cersei　Larmister　is　ely；〃　she　said　sharply。　〃You'd　be　wiser　to　pray　that　Roslin　is　strong　and　healthy；　with　a　good　head　and　a　loyal　heart。〃　And　with　that　she　left　them。
　Edmure　did　not　take　that　well。　The　next　day　he　avoided　her　entirely　on　the　march；　preferring　the　pany　of　Marq　Piper；　Lymond　Goodbrook；　Patrek　Mallister；　and　the　young　Vances。　They　do　not　scold　him；　except　in　jest；　Catelyn　told　herself　when　they　raced　by　her　that　afternoon　with　nary　a　word。　I　have　always　been　too　hard　with　Edmure；　and　now　grief　sharpens　my　every　word。　She　regretted　her　rebuke。　There　was　rain　enough　falling　from　the　sky　without　her　making　more。　And　was　it　really　such　a　terrible　thing；　to　want　a　pretty　wife？　She　remembered　her　own　childish　disappointment；　the　first　time　she　had　laid　eyes　on　Eddard　Stark。　She　had　pictured　him　as　a　younger　version　of　his　brother　Brandon；　but　that　was　wrong。　Ned　was　shorter　and　plainer　of　face；　and　so　somber。　He　spoke　courteously　enough；　but　beneath　the　words　she　sensed　a　coolness　that　was　all　at　odds　with　Brandon；　whose　mirths　had　been　as　wild　as　his　rages。　Even　when　he　took　her　maidenhood；　their　love　had　more　of　duty　to　it　than　of　passion。　We　made　Robb　that　night；　though；　we　made　a　king　together。　And　after　the　war；　at　Winterfell；　I　had　love　enough　for　any　woman；　once　I　found　the　good　sweet　heart　beneath　Ned's　solemn　face。　There　is　no　reason　Edmure　should　not　find　the　same；　with　his　Roslin。
　As　the　gods　would　have　it；　their　route　took　them　through　the　Whispering　Wood　where　Robb　had　won　his　first　great　victory。　They　followed　the　course　of　the　twisting　stream　on　the　floor　of　that　pinched　narrow　valley；　much　as　Jaime　Lannister's　men　had　done　that　fateful　night。　It　was　warmer　then；　Catelyn　remembered；　the　trees　were　still　green；　and　the　stream　did　not　overflow　its　banks。　Fallen　leaves　choked　the　flow　now　and　lay　in　sodden　snarls　among　the　rocks　and　roots；　and　the　trees　that　had　once　hidden　Robb's　army　had　exchanged　their　green　raiment　for　leaves　of　dull　gold　spotted　with　brown；　and　a　red　that　reminded　her　of　rust　and　dry　blood。　Only　the　spruce　and　the　soldier　pines　still　showed　green；　thrusting　up　at　the　belly　of　the　clouds　like　tall　dark　spears。
　More　than　the　trees　have　died　since　then；　she　reflected。　on　the　night　of　the　Whispering　Wood；　Ned　was　still　alive　in　his　cell　beneath　Aegon's　High　Hill；　Bran　and　Rickon　were　safe　behind　the　walls　of　Winterfell。　And　Theon　Greyjoy　fought　at　Robb's　side；　and　boasted　of　how　he　had　almost　crossed　swords　with　the　Kingslayer。　Would　that　he　had。　lf　Theon　had　died　in　place　of　Lord　Karstark's　sons；　how　much　ill　would　have　been　undone？
　As　they　passed　through　the　battleground；　Catelyn　glimpsed　signs　of　the　carnage　that　had　been；　an　overturned　helm　filling　with　rain；　a　splintered　lance；　the　bones　of　a　horse。　Stone　cairns　had　been　raised　over　some　of　the　men　who　had　fallen　here；　but　scavengers　had　already　been　at　them。　Amidst　the　tumbles　of　rock；　she　spied　brightly　colored　cloth　and　bits　of　shiny　metal。　Once　she　saw　a　face　peering　out　at　her；　the　shape　of　the　skull　beginning　to　emerge　from　beneath　the　melting　brown　flesh。
　It　made　her　wonder　where　Ned　had　e　to　rest。　The　silent　sisters　had　taken　his　bones　north；　escorted　by　Hallis　Mollen　and　a　small　honor　guard。　Had　Ned　ever　reached　Winterfell；　to　be　interred　beside　his　brother　Brandon　in　the　dark　crypts　beneath　the　castle？　Or　did　the　door　slam　shut　at　Moat　Cailin　before　Hal　and　the　sisters　could　pass？
　Thirty…five　hundred　riders　wound　their　way　along　the　valley　floor　through　the　heart　of　the　Whispering　Wood；　but　Catelyn　Stark　had　seldom　felt　lonelier。　Every　league　she　crossed　took　her　farther　from　Riverrun；　and　she　found　herself　wondering　whether　she　would　ever　see　the　castle　again。　Or　was　it　lost　to　her　forever；　like　so　much　else？
　Five　days　later；　their　scouts　rode　back　to　warn　them　that　the　rising　waters　had　washed　out　the　wooden　bridge　at　Fairmarket。　Galbart　Glover　and　two　of　his　bolder　men　had　tried　swimming　their　mounts　across　the　turbulent　Blue　Fork　at　Ramsford。　Two　of　the　horses　had　been　swept　under　and　drowned；　and　one　of　the　riders；　Glover　himself　managed　to　cling　to　a　rock　until　they　could　pull　him　in。　〃The　river　hasn't　run　this　high　since　spring〃　Edmure　said。　〃And　if　this　rain　keeps　falling；　it　will　go　higher　yet。〃
　〃There's　a　bridge　further　upstream；　near　Oldstones；〃　remembered　Catelyn；　who　had　often　crossed　these　lands　with　her　father。　〃It's　older　and　smaller；　but　if　it　still　stands…〃
　〃It's　gone；　my　lady；〃　Galbart　Glover　said。　〃Washed　away　even　before　the　one　at　Fairmarket。〃
　Robb　looked　to　Catelyn。　〃Is　there　another　bridge？〃
　〃No。　And　the　fords　will　be