grrm.astormofswords-第115章

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forgot　about　Lord　Mormont　and　Craster　and　the　wights　and　the　Others。　Whitetree；　Sam　prayed；　to　any　god　that　might　be　listening。
　All　wildling　villages　looked　much　alike；　though。　A　huge　weirwood　grew　in　the　center　of　this　one　。　。　。　but　a　white　tree　did　not　mean　Whitetree；　necessarily。　Hadn't　the　weirwood　at　Whitetree　been　bigger　than　this　one？　Maybe　he　was　remembering　it　wrong。　The　face　carved　into　the　bone　pale　trunk　was　long　and　sad；　red　tears　of　dried　sap　leaked　from　its　eyes。　Was　that　how　it　looked　when　we　came　north？　Sam　couldn't　recall。
　Around　the　tree　stood　a　handful　of　one…room　hovels　with　sod　roofs；　a　longhall　built　of　logs　and　grown　over　with　moss；　a　stone　well；　a　sheepfold　。　。　。　but　no　sheep；　nor　any　people。　The　wildlings　had　gone　to　join　Mance　Rayder　in　the　Frostfangs；　taking　all　they　owned　except　their　houses。　Sam　was　thankful　for　that。　Night　was　ing　on；　and　it　would　be　good　to　sleep　beneath　a　roof　for　once。　He　was　so　tired。　It　seemed　as　though　he　had　been　walking　half　his　life。　His　boots　were　falling　to　pieces；　and　all　the　blisters　on　his　feet　had　burst　and　turned　to　callus；　but　now　he　had　new　blisters　under　the　callus；　and　his　toes　were　getting　frostbitten。
　But　it　was　either　walk　or　die；　Sam　knew。　Gilly　was　still　weak　from　childbirth　and　carrying　the　babe　besides；　she　needed　the　horse　more　than　he　did。　The　second　horse　had　died　on　them　three　days　out　from　Craster's　Keep。　It　was　a　wonder　she　lasted　that　long；　poor　half…starved　thing。　Sam's　weight　had　probably　done　for　her。　They　might　have　tried　riding　double；　but　he　was　afraid　the　same　thing　would　happen　again。　It's　better　that　I　walk。
　Sam　left　Gilly　in　the　longhall　to　make　a　fire　while　he　poked　his　head　into　the　hovels。　She　was　better　at　making　fires；　he　could　never　seem　to　get　the　kindling　to　catch；　and　the　last　time　he'd　tried　to　strike　a　spark　off　flint　and　steel　he　managed　to　cut　himself　on　his　knife。　Gilly　bound　up　the　gash　for　him；　but　his　hand　was　stiff　and　sore；　even　clumsier　than　it　had　been　before。　He　knew　he　should　wash　the　wound　and　change　the　binding；　but　he　was　afraid　to　look　at　it。　Besides；　it　was　so　cold　that　he　hated　taking　off　his　gloves。
　Sam　did　not　know　what　he　hoped　to　find　in　the　empty　houses。　Maybe　the　wildlings　had　left　some　food　behind。　He　had　to　take　a　look。　Jon　had　searched　the　huts　at　Whitetree；　on　their　way　north。　Inside　one　hovel　Sam　heard　a　rustling　of　rats　from　a　dark　corner；　but　otherwise　there　was　nothing　in　any　of　them　but　old　straw；　old　smells；　and　some　ashes　beneath　the　smoke　hole。
　He　turned　back　to　the　weirwood　and　studied　the　carved　face　a　moment。　It　is　not　the　face　we　saw；　he　admitted　to　himself。　The　tree's　not　half　as　big　as　the　one　at　Whitetree。　The　red　eyes　wept　blood；　and　he　didn't　remember　that　either。　Clumsily；　Sam　sank　to　his　knees。　〃Old　gods；　hear　my　prayer。　The　Seven　were　my　father's　gods　but　I　said　my　words　to　you　when　I　joined　the　Watch。　Help　us　now。　I　fear　we　might　be　lost。　We're　hungry　too；　and　so　cold。　I　don't　know　what　gods　I　believe　in　now；　but　。　。　。　please；　if　you're　there；　help　us。　Gilly　has　a　little　son。〃　That　was　all　that　he　could　think　to　say。　The　dusk　was　deepening；　the　leaves　of　the　weirwood　rustling　softly；　waving　like　a　thousand　blood…red　hands。　Whether　Jon's　gods　had　heard　him　or　not　he　could　not　say。
　By　the　time　he　returned　to　the　longhall；　Gilly　had　the　fire　going。　She　sat　close　to　it　with　her　furs　opened；　the　babe　at　her　breast。　He's　as　hungry　as　we　are；　Sam　thought。　The　old　women　had　smuggled　out　food　for　them　from　Craster's；　but　they　had　eaten　most　of　it　by　now。　Sam　had　been　a　hopeless　hunter　even　at　Hom　Hill；　where　game　was　plentiful　and　he　had　hounds　and　huntsmen　to　help　him；　here　in　this　endless　empty　forest；　the　chances　of　him　catching　anything　were　remote。　His　efforts　at　fishing　the　lakes　and　half…frozen　streams　had　been　dismal　failures　as　well。
　〃How　much　longer；　Sam？〃　Gilly　asked。　〃is　it　far；　still？〃
　〃Not　so　far。　Not　so　far　as　it　was。〃　Sam　shrugged　out　of　his　pack；　eased　himself　awkwardly　to　the　floor；　and　tried　to　cross　his　legs。　His　back　ached　so　abominably　from　the　walking　that　he　would　have　liked　to　lean　up　against　one　of　the　carved　wooden　pillars　that　supported　the　roof；　but　the　fire　was　in　the　center　of　the　hall　beneath　the　smoke　hole　and　he　craved　warmth　even　more　than　fort。　〃Another　few　days　should　see　us　there。〃
　Sam　had　his　maps；　but　if　this　wasn't　Whitetree　then　they　weren't　going　to　be　much　use。　We　went　too　far　east　to　get　around　that　lake；　he　fretted；　or　maybe　too　far　west　when　I　tried　to　double　back。　He　was　ing　to　hate　lakes　and　rivers。　Up　here　there　was　never　a　ferry　or　bridge；　which　meant　walking　all　the　way　around　the　lakes　and　searching　for　places　to　ford　the　rivers。　It　was　easier　to　follow　a　game　trail　than　to　struggle　through　the　brush；　easier　to　circle　a　ridge　instead　of　climbing　it。　If　Bannen　or　Dywen　were　with　us　we'd　be　at　Castle　Black　by　now；　warming　our　feet　in　the　mon　room。　Barmen　was　dead；　though；　and　Dywen　gone　with　Grenn　and　Dolorous　Edd　and　the　others。
　The　Wall　is　three　hundred　miles　long　and　seven　hundred　feet　high；　Sam　reminded　himself。　If　they　kept　going　south；　they　had　to　find　it；　sooner　or　later。　And　he　was　certain　that　they　had　been　going　south。　By　day　he　took　directions　from　the　sun；　and　on　clear　nights　they　could　follow　the　Ice　Dragon's　tail；　though　they　hadn't　traveled　much　by　night　since　the　second　horse　had　died。　Even　when　the　moon　was　full　it　was　too　dark　beneath　the　trees；　and　it　would　have　been　so　easy　for　Sam　or　the　last　garron　to　break　a　leg。　We　have　to　be　well　south　by　now；　we　have　to　be。
　What　he　wasn't　so　certain　of　was　how　far　east　or　west　they　might　have　strayed。　They　would　reach　the　Wall；　yes　。　。　。　in　a　day　or　a　fortnight；　it　couldn't　be　farther　than　that；　surely；　surely　。　。　。　but　where？　It　was　the　gate　at　Castle　Black　they　needed　to　find；　the　only　way　through　the　Wall　for　a　hundred　leagues。
　〃Is　the　Wall　as　big　as　Craster　used　to　say？〃　Gilly　asked。
　〃Bigger。〃　Sam　tried　to　sound　cheerful。　〃So　big　you　can't　even　see　the　castles　hidden　behind　it。　But　they're　there；　you'll　see。　The　Wall　is　all　ice；　but　the　castles　are　stone　and　wood。　There　are　tall　towers　and　deep　vaults　and　a　huge　longhall　with　a　great　fire　burning　in　the　hearth；　day　and　night。　It's　so　hot　in　there；　Gilly；　you'll　hardly　believe　it。〃
　〃Could　I　stand　by　the　fire？　Me　and　the　boy？　Not　for　a　long　time；　just　till　we're　good　and　warm？〃
　〃You　can　stand　by　the　fire　as　long　as　you　like。　You'll　have　food　and　drink；　too。　Hot　mulled　wine　and　a　bowl　of　venison　stewed　with　onions；　and　Hobb's　bread　right　out　of　the　oven；　so　hot　it　will　burn　your　fingers。〃　Sam　peeled　a　glove　off　to　wriggle　his　own　fingers　near　the　flames；　and　soon　regretted　it。　They　had　been　numb　with　cold；　but　as　feeling　returned　they　hurt　so　much　he　almost　cried。　〃Sometimes　one　of　the　brothers　will　sing；〃　he　said；　to　take　his　mind　off　the　pain。　〃Dareon　sang　best；　but　they　sent　him　to　Eastwatch。　There's　still　Halder；　though。　And　Toad。　His　real　name　is　Todder；　but　he　looks　like　a　toad；　so　we　call　him　that。　He　likes　to　sing；　but　he　has　an　awful　voice。〃
　〃Do　you　sing？〃　Gilly　rearranged　her　furs；　and　she　moved　the　babe　from　one　breast　to　the　other。
　Sam　blushed。　〃I　。　。　。　I　know　some　songs。　When　I　was　little　I　liked　to　sing。　I　danced　too；　but　my　lord　father　never　liked　me　to。　He　said　if　I　wanted　to　prance　around　I　should　do　it　in　the　yard　with　a　sword　in　my　hand。〃
　〃Could　you　sing　some　southron　song？　For　the　babe？〃
　〃If　you　like。〃　Sam　thought　for　a　moment。　〃There's　a　song　our　septon　used　to　sing　to　me　and　my　sisters；　when　we　were　little　and　it　was　time　for　us　to　go　to　sleep。　'The　Song　of　the　Seven/　it's　called。〃　He　cleared　his　throat　and　softly　sang：
　The　Father's　face　is　stern　and　strong；　he　sits　and　judges　right　from　wrong。
　He　weighs　our　lives；　the　short　and　long；　and　loves　the　little　children。
　The　Mother　gives　the　gift　of　life；　and　watches　over　every　wife。
　Her　gentle　smile　ends　all　strife；　and　she　loves　her　little　children。
　The　Warrior　stands　before　the　foe；　protecting　us　where　e'er　we　go。
　With　sword　and　shield　and　spear　and　bow；　he　guards　the　little　children。
　The　Crone　is　very　wise　and　old；　and　sees　our　fates　as　they　unfold。
　She　lifts　her　lamp　of　shining　gold；　to　lead　the　little　children。
　The　Smith；　he　labors　day　and　night；　to　put　the　world　of　men　to　right。
　With　hammer；　plow；　and　fire　bright；　he　builds　for　little　children。
　The　Maiden　dances　through　the　sky；　she　lives　in　every　lover's　sigh；
　Her　smiles　teach　the　birds　to　fly；　and　give　dreams　to　little　children。
　The　Seven　Gods　who　made　us　all；　are　listening　if　we　should　call。
　So　close　your　eyes；　you　shall　not　fall；　they　see　you；　little　children；
　Just　close　your　eyes；　you　shall　not　fall；　they　see　you；　little　children。
　Sam　remembered　the　last　time　he'd　sung　the　song　with　his　mother；　to　lull　baby　Dickon　to　sleep。　His　father　had　heard　their　voices　and　e　barging　in；　angry。　〃I　will　have　no　more　of　that；〃　Lord　Randyll　told　his　wife　harshly。　〃You　ruined　one　boy　with　those　soft　septon's　songs；　do　you　mean　to　do　the　same　to　this　babe？〃　Then　he　looked　at　Sam　and　said；　〃Go　sing　to　your　sisters；　if　you　must　sing。　I　don't　want　you　near　my　son。〃
　Gilly's　babe　had　gone　to　sleep。　He　was　such　a　tiny　thing；　and　so　quiet　that　Sam　feared　for　him。　He　didn't　even　have　a　name。　He　had　asked　Gilly　about　that；　but　she　said　it　was　bad　luck　to　name　a　child　before　he　was　two。　So　many　of　them　died。
　She　tucked　her　nipple　back　inside　her　furs。　〃That　was　pretty；　Sam。　You　sing　good。〃
　〃You　should　hear　Dareon。　His　voice　is　sweet　as　mead。〃
　〃We　drank　the　sweetest　mead　the　day　Craster　made　me　a　wife。　It　was　summer　then；　and　not　so　cold。〃　Gilly　gave　him　a　puzzled　look。　〃Did　you　only　sing　of　six　gods？　Craster　always　told　us　you　southrons　had　seven。〃
　〃Seven；〃　he　agreed；　〃but　no　one　sings　of　the　Stranger。〃　The　Stranger's　face　was　the　face　of　death。　Even　talking　of　him　made　Sam　unfortable。　〃We　should　eat　something。　A　bite　or　two。〃
　Nothing　was　left　but　a　few　black　sausages；　as　hard　as　wood。　Sam　sawed　off　a　few　thin　slices　for　each　of　them。　The　effort　made　his　wrist　ache；　but　he　was　hungry　enough　to　persist。　If　you　chewed　the　slices　long　enough　they　softened　up；　and　tasted　good。　Craster's　wives　seasoned　them　with　garlic。
　After　they　had　finished；　Sam　begged　her　pardon　and　went　out　to　relieve　himself　and　look　after　the　horse。　A　biting　wind　was　blowing　from　the　north；　and　the　leaves　in　the　trees　rattled　at　him　as　he　passed。　He　had　to　break　the　thin　scum　of　ice　on　top　of　the　stream　so　the　horse　could　get　a　drink。　I　had　better　bring　her　inside。　He　did　not　want　to　wake　up　at　break　of　day　to　find　that　their　horse　had　frozen　to　death　during　the　night。　Gilly　would　keep　going　even　if　that　happened。　The　girl　was　very　brave；　not　like　him。　He　wished　he　knew　what　he　was　going　to　do　with　her　back　at　Castle　Black。　She　kept　saying　how　she'd　be　his　wife　if　he　wanted；　but　black　brothers　didn't　keep　wives；　besides；　he　was　a　Tarly　of　Horn　Hill；　he　could　never　wed　a　wildling。　I'll　have　to　think　of　something。　So　long　as　we　reach　the　Wall　alive；　the　rest　doesn't　matter；　it　doesn't　matter　one　little　bit。
　Leading　the　horse　to　the　longhall　was　simple　enough。　Getting　her　through　the　door　was　not；　but　Sam　persisted。　Gilly　was　already　dozing　by　the　tim