grrm.astormofswords-第125章

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lton；　and　had　gotten　a　good　noseful　of　both。　Ser　Ryman　drank　as　if　Westeros　was　about　to　run　short　of　wine；　and　sweated　it　all　out　under　his　arms。　He　had　bathed　in　lemonwater；　she　judged；　but　no　lemon　could　mask　so　much　sour　sweat。　Roose　Bolton　had　a　sweeter　smell　to　him；　yet　no　more　pleasant。　He　sipped　hippocras　in　preference　to　wine　or　mead；　and　ate　but　little。
　Catelyn　could　not　fault　him　for　his　lack　of　appetite。　The　wedding　feast　began　with　a　thin　leek　soup；　followed　by　a　salad　of　green　beans；　onions；　and　beets；　river　pike　poached　in　almond　milk；　mounds　of　mashed　turnips　that　were　cold　before　they　reached　the　table；　jellied　calves'　brains；　and　a　leche　of　stringy　beef。　It　was　poor　fare　to　set　before　a　king；　and　the　calves'　brains　turned　Catelyn's　stomach。　Yet　Robb　ate　it　unplaining；　and　her　brother　was　too　caught　up　with　his　bride　to　pay　much　attention。
　You　would　never　guess　Edmure　plained　of　Roslin　all　the　way　from　Riverrun　to　the　TWins。　Husband　and　wife　ate　from　a　single　plate；　drank　from　a　single　cup；　and　exchanged　chaste　kisses　between　sips。　Most　of　the　dishes　Edmure　waved　away。　She　could　not　blame　him　for　that。　She　remembered　little　of　the　food　served　at　her　own　wedding　feast。　Did　I　even　taste　it？　Or　spend　the　whole　time　gazing　at　Ned's　face；　wondering　who　he　was？
　Poor　Roslin's　smile　had　a　fixed　quality　to　it；　as　if　someone　had　sewn　it　onto　her　face。　Well；　she　is　a　maid　wedded；　but　the　bedding's　yet　to　e。　No　doubt　she's　as　terrified　as　I　was。　Robb　was　seated　between　Alyx　Frey　and　Fair　Walda；　two　of　the　more　nubile　Frey　maidens。　〃At　the　wedding　feast　I　hope　you　will　not　refuse　to　dance　with　my　daughters；〃　Walder　Frey　had　said。　〃It　would　please　an　old　man's　heart。〃　His　heart　should　be　well　pleased；　then；　Robb　had　done　his　duty　like　a　king。　He　had　danced　with　each　of　the　girls；　with　Edmure's　bride　and　the　eighth　Lady　Frey；　with　the　widow　Ami　and　Roose　Bolton's　wife　Fat　Walda；　with　the　pimply　twins　Serra　and　Sarra；　even　with　Shirei；　Lord　Walder's　youngest；　who　must　have　been　all　of　six。　Catelyn　wondered　whether　the　Lord　of　the　Crossing　would　be　satisfied；　or　if　he　would　find　cause　for　plaint　in　all　the　other　daughters　and　granddaughters　who　had　not　had　a　turn　with　the　king。　〃Your　sisters　dance　very　well；〃　she　said　to　Ser　Ryman　Frey；　trying　to　be　pleasant。
　〃They're　aunts　and　cousins。〃　Ser　Ryman　drank　a　swallow　of　wine；　the　sweat　trickling　down　his　cheek　into　his　beard。
　A　sour　man；　and　in　his　cups；　Catelyn　thought。　The　Late　Lord　Frey　might　be　niggardly　when　it　came　to　feeding　his　guests；　but　he　did　not　stint　on　the　drink。　The　ale；　wine；　and　mead　were　flowing　as　fast　as　the　river　outside。　The　Greatjon　was　already　roaring　drunk。　Lord　Walder's　son　Merrett　was　matching　him　cup　for　cup；　but　Ser　Whalen　Frey　had　passed　out　trying　to　keep　up　with　the　two　of　them。　Catelyn　would　sooner　Lord　Umber　had　seen　fit　to　stay　sober；　but　telling　the　Greatjon　not　to　drink　was　like　telling　him　not　to　breathe　for　a　few　hours。
　Smalljon　Umber　and　Robin　Flint　sat　near　Robb；　to　the　other　side　of　Fair　Walda　and　Alyx；　respectively。　Neither　of　them　was　drinking；　along　with　Patrek　Mallister　and　Dacey　Mormont；　they　were　her　son's　guards　this　evening。　A　wedding　feast　was　not　a　battle；　but　there　were　always　dangers　when　men　were　in　their　cups；　and　a　king　should　never　be　unguarded。　Catelyn　was　glad　of　that；　and　even　more　glad　of　the　swordbelts　hanging　on　pegs　along　the　walls。　No　man　needs　a　longsword　to　deal　with　jellied　calves'　brains。
　〃Everyone　thought　my　lord　would　choose　Fair　Walda；〃　Lady　Walda　Bolton　told　Ser　Wendel；　shouting　to　be　heard　above　the　music。　Fat　Walda　was　a　round　pink　butterball　of　a　girl　with　watery　blue　eyes；　limp　yellow　hair；　and　a　huge　bosom；　yet　her　voice　was　a　fluttering　squeak。　It　was　hard　to　picture　her　in　the　Dreadfort　in　her　pink　lace　and　cape　of　vair。　〃My　lord　grandfather　offered　Roose　his　bride's　weight　in　silver　as　a　dowry；　though；　so　my　lord　of　Bolton　picked　me。〃　The　girl's　chins　jiggled　when　she　laughed。　〃I　weigh　six　stone　more　than　Fair　Walda；　but　that　was　the　first　time　I　was　glad　of　it。　I'm　Lady　Bolton　now　and　my　cousin's　still　a　maid；　and　she'll　be　nineteen　soon；　poor　thing。〃
　The　Lord　of　the　Dreadfort　paid　the　chatter　no　mind；　Catelyn　saw。　Sometimes　he　tasted　a　bite　of　this；　a　spoon　of　that；　tearing　bread　from　the　loaf　with　short　strong　fingers；　but　the　meal　could　not　distract　him。　Bolton　had　made　a　toast　to　Lord　Walder's　grandsons　when　the　wedding　feast　began；　pointedly　mentioning　that　Walder　and　WaIder　were　in　the　care　of　his　bastard　son。　From　the　way　the　old　man　had　squinted　at　him；　his　mouth　sucking　at　the　air；　Catelyn　knew　he　had　heard　the　unspoken　threat。
　Was　there　ever　a　wedding　less　joyful？　she　wondered；　until　she　remembered　her　poor　Sansa　and　her　marriage　to　the　Imp。　Mother　take　mercy　on　her。　She　has　a　gentle　soul。　The　heat　and　smoke　and　noise　were　making　her　sick。　The　musicians　in　the　gallery　might　be　numerous　and　loud；　but　they　were　not　especially　gifted。　Catelyn　took　another　swallow　of　wine　and　allowed　a　page　to　refill　her　cup。　A　few　more　hours；　and　the　worst　will　be　over。　By　this　hour　tomorrow　Robb　would　be　off　to　another　battle；　this　time　with　the　ironmen　at　Moat　Cailin。　Strange；　how　that　prospect　seemed　almost　a　relief。　He　will　win　his　battle。　He　wins　all　his　battles；　and　the　ironborn　are　without　a　king。　Besides；　Ned　taught　him　well。　The　drums　were　pounding。　Jinglebell　hopped　past　her　once　again；　but　the　music　was　so　loud　she　could　scarcely　hear　his　bells。
　Above　the　din　came　a　sudden　snarling　as　two　dogs　fell　upon　each　other　over　a　scrap　of　meat。　They　rolled　across　the　floor；　snapping　and　biting；　as　a　howl　of　mirth　went　up。　Someone　doused　them　with　a　flagon　of　ale　and　they　broke　apart。　One　limped　toward　the　dais。　Lord　Walder's　toothless　mouth　opened　in　a　bark　of　laughter　as　the　dripping　wet　dog　shook　ale　and　hair　all　over　three　of　his　grandsons。
　The　sight　of　the　dogs　made　Catelyn　wish　once　more　for　Grey　Wind；　but　Robb's　direwolf　was　nowhere　to　be　seen。　Lord　Walder　had　refused　to　allow　him　in　the　hall。　〃Your　wild　beast　has　a　taste　for　human　flesh；　I　hear；　heh；〃　the　old　man　had　said。　〃Rips　out　throats；　yes。　I'll　have　no　such　creature　at　my　Roslin's　feast；　amongst　women　and　little　ones；　all　my　sweet　innocents。〃
　〃Grey　Wind　is　no　danger　to　them；　my　lord；〃　Robb　protested。　〃Not　so　long　as　I　am　there。〃
　〃You　were　there　at　my　gates；　were　you　not？　When　the　wolf　attacked　the　grandsons　I　sent　to　greet　you？　I　heard　all　about　that；　don't　think　I　didn't；　heh。〃
　〃No　harm　was　done　
　〃No　harm；　the　king　says？　No　harm？　Petyr　fell　from　his　horse；　fell。　I　lost　a　wife　the　same　way；　falling。〃　His　mouth　worked　in　and　out。　〃Or　was　she　just　some　strumpet？　Bastard　Walder's　mother；　yes；　now　I　recall。　She　fell　off　her　horse　and　cracked　her　head。　What　would　Your　Grace　do　if　Petyr　had　broken　his　neck；　heh？　Give　me　another　apology　in　place　of　a　grandson？　No；　no；　no。　Might　be　you're　king；　I　won't　say　you're　not；　the　King　in　the　North；　heh；　but　under　my　roof；　my　rule。　Have　your　wolf　or　have　your　wedding；　sire。　You'll　not　have　both。〃
　Catelyn　could　tell　that　her　son　was　furious；　but　he　yielded　with　as　much　courtesy　as　he　could　summon。　If　it　pleases　Lord　Walder　to　serve　me　stewed　crow　smothered　in　maggots；　he'd　told　her；　I'll　eat　it　and　ask　for　a　second　bowl。　And　so　he　had。
　The　Greatjon　had　drunk　another　of　Lord　Walder's　brood　under　the　table；　Petyr　Pimple　this　time。　The　lad　has　a　third　his　capacity；　what　did　he　expect？　Lord　Umber　wiped　his　mouth；　stood；　and　began　to　sing。　〃A　bear　there　was；　a　bear；　a　BEAR！　All　black　and　brown　and　covered　with　hair！〃　His　voice　was　not　at　all　bad；　though　somewhat　thick　from　drink。　Unfortunately　the　fiddlers　and　drummers　and　flutists　up　above　were　playing　〃Flowers　of　Spring；〃　which　suited　the　words　of　〃The　Bear　and　the　Maiden　Fair〃　as　well　as　snails　might　suit　a　bowl　of　porridge。　Even　poor　Jinglebell　covered　his　ears　at　the　cacophony。
　Roose　Bolton　murmured　some　words　too　soft　to　hear　and　went　off　in　search　of　a　privy。　The　cramped　hall　was　in　a　constant　uproar　of　guests　and　servants　ing　and　going。　A　second　feast；　for　knights　and　lords　of　somewhat　lesser　rank；　was　roaring　along　in　the　other　castle；　she　knew。　Lord　Walder　had　exiled　his　baseborn　children　and　their　offspring　to　that　side　of　the　river；　so　that　Robb's　northmen　had　taken　to　referring　to　it　as　〃the　bastard　feast。〃　Some　guests　were　no　doubt　stealing　off　to　see　if　the　bastards　were　having　a　better　time　than　they　were。　Some　might　even　be　venturing　as　far　as　the　camps。　The　Freys　had　provided　wagons　of　wine；　ale　and　mead；　so　the　mon　soldiers　could　drink　to　the　wedding　of　Riverrun　and　the　Twins。
　Robb　sat　down　in　Bolton's　vacant　place。　〃A　few　more　hours　and　this　farce　is　done；　Mother；〃　he　said　in　a　low　voice；　as　the　Greatjon　sang　of　the　maid　with　honey　in　her　hair。　〃Black　Walder's　been　mild　as　a　lamb　for　once。　And　Uncle　Edmure　seems　well　content　in　his　bride。〃　He　leaned　across　her。　〃Ser　Ryman？〃
　Ser　Ryman　Frey　blinked　and　said；　〃Sire。　Yes？〃
　〃I'd　hoped　to　ask　Olyvar　to　squire　for　me　when　we　march　north；〃　said　Robb；　〃but　I　do　not　see　him　here。　Would　he　be　at　the　other　feast？〃　
　〃Olyvar？〃　Ser　Ryman　shook　his　head。　〃No。　Not　Olyvar。　Gone　。　。　。　gone　from　the　castles。　Duty。〃
　〃I　see。〃　Robb's　tone　suggested　otherwise。　When　Ser　Ryman　offered　nothing　more；　the　king　got　to　his　feet　again。　〃Would　you　care　for　a　dance；　Mother？〃
　〃Thank　you；　but　no。〃　A　dance　was　the　last　thing　she　needed；　the　way　her　head　was　throbbing。　〃No　doubt　one　of　Lord　Walder's　daughters　would　be　pleased　to　partner　you。〃
　〃Oh；　no　doubt。〃　His　smile　was　resigned。
　The　musicians　were　playing　〃Iron　Lances〃　by　then；　while　the　Greatjon　sang　〃The　Lusty　Lad。〃　Someone　should　acquaint　them　with　each　other；　it　might　improve　the　harmony。　Catelyn　turned　back　to　Ser　Ryman。　〃I　had　heard　that　one　of　your　cousins　was　a　singer。〃
　〃Alesander。　Symond's　son。　Alyx　is　his　sister。〃　He　raised　a　cup　toward　where　she　danced　with　Robin　Flint。
　〃Will　Alesander　be　playing　for　us　tonight？〃
　Ser　Ryman　squinted　at　her。　〃Not　him。　He's　away。〃　He　wiped　sweat　from　his　brow　and　lurched　to　his　feet。　〃Pardons；　my　lady。　Pardons。〃　Catelyn　watched　him　stagger　toward　the　door。
　Edmure　was　kissing　Roslin　and　squeezing　her　hand。　Elsewhere　in　the　hall；　Ser　Marq　Piper　and　Ser　Danwell　Frey　played　a　drinking　game；　Lame　Lothar　said　something　amusing　to　Ser　Hosteen；　one　of　the　younger　Freys　juggled　three　daggers　for　a　group　of　giggly　girls；　and　Jinglebell　sat　on　the　floor　sucking　wine　off　his　fingers。　The　servers　were　bringing　out　huge　silver　platters　piled　high　with　cuts　of　juicy　pink　lamb；　the　most　appetizing　dish　they'd　seen　all　evening。　And　Robb　was　leading　Dacey　Mormont　in　a　dance。
　When　she　wore　a　dress　in　place　of　a　hauberk；　Lady　Maege's　eldest　daughter　was　quite　pretty；　tall　and　willowy；　with　a　shy　smile　that　made　her　long　face　light　up。　it　was　pleasant　to　see　that　she　could　be　as　graceful　on　the　dance　floor　as　in　the　training　yard。　Catelyn　wondered　if　Lady　Maege　had　reached　the　Neck　as　yet。　She　had　taken　her　other　daughters　with　her；　but　as　one　of　Robb's　battle　panions　Dacey　had　chosen　to　remain　by　his　side。　He　has　Ned's　gift　for　inspiring　loyalty。　Olyvar　Frey　had　been　devoted　to　her　son　as　well。　Hadn't　Robb　said　that　Olyvar　wanted　to　remain　with　him　even　after　he'd　married　Jeyne？
　Seat