grrm.astormofswords-第134章

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　mother　had　dropped　him　on　his　head　when　he　was　a　baby；　and　half　his　wits　had　leaked　out　through　his　ear。
　〃You　remember　where　to　go？〃　Jon　asked　him。
　〃I'm　to　go　to　the　stairs；　Donal　Noye　says。　I'm　to　go　up　to　the　third　landing　and　shoot　my　crossbow　down　at　the　wildlings　if　they　try　to　climb　over　the　barrier。　The　third　landing；　one　two　three。〃　His　head　bobbed　up　and　down。　〃If　the　wildlings　attack；　the　king　will　e　and　help　us；　won't　he？　He's　a　mighty　warrior；　King　Robert。　He's　sure　to　e。　Maester　Aemon　sent　him　a　bird。〃
　There　was　no　use　telling　him　that　Robert　Baratheon　was　dead。　He　would　forget　it；　as　he'd　forgotten　it　before。　〃Maester　Aemon　sent　him　a　bird；〃　Jon　agreed。　That　seemed　to　make　Owen　happy。
　Maester　Aemon　had　sent　a　lot　of　birds　。　。　。　not　to　one　king；　but　to　four。　Wildlings　at　the　gate；　the　message　ran。　The　realm　in　danger。　Send　all　the　help　you　can　to　Castle　Black；　Even　as　far　as　Oldtown　and　the　Citadel　the　ravens　flew；　and　to　half　a　hundred　mighty　lords　in　their　castles。　The　northern　lords　offered　their　best　hope；　so　to　them　Aemon　had　sent　two　birds。　To　the　Umbers　and　the　Boltons；　to　Castle　Cerwyn　and　Torrhen's　Square；　Karhold　and　Deepwood　Motte；　to　Bear　Island；　Oldcastle；　Widow's　Watch；　White　Harbor；　Barrowton；　and　the　Rills；　to　the　mountain　fastnesses　of　the　Liddles；　the　Burleys；　the　Norreys；　the　Harclays；　and　the　Wulls；　the　black　birds　brought　their　plea。　Wildlings　at　the　gate。　The　north　in　danger。　e　with　all　your　strength。
　Well；　ravens　might　have　wings；　but　lords　and　kings　do　not。　If　help　was　ing；　it　would　not　e　today。
　As　morning　turned　to　afternoon；　the　smoke　of　Mole's　Town　blew　away　and　the　southern　sky　was　clear　again。　No　clouds；　thought　Jon。　That　was　good。　Rain　or　snow　could　doom　them　all。
　Clydas　and　Maester　Aemon　rode　the　winch　cage　up　to　safety　at　the　top　of　the　Wall；　and　most　of　the　Mole's　Town　wives　as　well。　Men　in　black　cloaks　paced　restlessly　on　the　tower　tops　and　shouted　back　and　forth　across　the　courtyards。　Septon　Cellador　led　the　men　on　the　barricade　in　a　prayer；　beseeching　the　Warrior　to　give　them　strength。　Deaf　Dick　Follard　curled　up　beneath　his　cloak　and　went　to　sleep。　Satin　walked　a　hundred　leagues　in　circles；　round　and　round　the　crenellations。　The　Wall　wept　and　the　sun　crept　across　a　hard　blue　sky。　Near　evenfall；　Owen　the　Oaf　returned　with　a　loaf　of　black　bread　and　a　pail　of　Hobb's　best　mutton；　cooked　in　a　thick　broth　of　ale　and　onions。　Even　Dick　woke　up　for　that。　They　ate　every　bit　of　it；　using　chunks　of　bread　to　wipe　the　bottom　of　the　pail。　By　the　time　they　were　done　the　sun　was　low　in　the　west；　the　shadows　sharp　and　black　throughout　the　castle。　〃Light　the　fire；〃　Jon　told　Satin；　〃and　fill　the　kettle　with　oil。〃
　He　went　downstairs　himself　to　bar　the　door；　to　try　and　work　some　of　the　stiffness　from　his　leg。　That　was　a　mistake；　and　Jon　soon　knew　it；　but　he　clutched　the　crutch　and　saw　it　through　all　the　same。　The　door　to　the　King's　Tower　was　oak　studded　with　iron。　It　might　delay　the　Thenns；　but　it　would　not　stop　them　if　they　wanted　to　e　in。　Jon　slammed　the　bar　down　in　its　notches；　paid　a　visit　to　the　privy…it　might　well　be　his　last　chance…and　hobbled　back　up　to　the　roof；　grimacing　at　the　pain。
　The　west　had　gone　the　color　of　a　blood　bruise；　but　the　sky　above　was　cobalt　blue；　deepening　to　purple；　and　the　stars　were　ing　out。　Jon　sat　between　two　merlons　with　only　a　scarecrow　for　pany　and　watched　the　Stallion　gallop　up　the　sky。　Or　was　it　the　Horned　Lord？　He　wondered　where　Ghost　was　now。　He　wondered　about　Ygritte　as　well；　and　told　himself　that　way　lay　madness。
　They　came　in　the　night；　of　course。　Like　thieves；　Jon　thought。　Like　murderers。
　Satin　pissed　himself　when　the　horns　blew；　but　Jon　pretended　not　to　notice。　〃Go　shake　Dick　by　the　shoulder；〃　he　told　the　Oldtown　boy；　〃else　he's　liable　to　sleep　through　the　fight。〃
　〃I'm　frightened。〃　Satin's　face　was　a　ghastly　white。
　〃So　are　they。〃　Jon　leaned　his　crutch　up　against　a　merlon　and　took　up　his　longbow；　bending　the　smooth　thick　Dornish　yew　to　slip　a　bowstring　through　the　notches。　〃Don't　waste　a　quarrel　unless　you　know　you　have　a　good　clean　shot；〃　he　said　when　Satin　returned　from　waking　Dick。　〃We　have　an　ample　supply　up　here；　but　ample　doesn't　mean　inexhaustible。　And　step　behind　a　merlon　to　reload；　don't　try　and　hide　in　back　of　a　scarecrow。　They're　made　of　straw；　an　arrow　will　punch　through　them。〃　He　did　not　bother　telling　Dick　Follard　anything。　Dick　could　read　your　lips　if　there　was　enough　light　and　he　gave　a　damn　what　you　were　saying；　but　he　knew　it　all　already。
　The　three　of　them　took　up　positions　on　three　sides　of　the　round　tower。
　Jon　hung　a　quiver　from　his　belt　and　pulled　an　arrow。　The　shaft　was　black；　the　fletching　grey。　As　he　notched　it　to　his　string；　he　remembered　something　that　Theon　Greyjoy　had　once　said　after　a　hunt。　〃The　boar　can　keep　his　tusks　and　the　bear　his　claws；〃　he　had　declared；　smiling　that　way　he　did。　〃There's　nothing　half　so　mortal　as　a　grey　goose　feather。〃
　Jon　had　never　been　half　the　hunter　that　Theon　was；　but　he　was　no　stranger　to　the　longbow　either。　There　were　dark　shapes　slipping　around　the　armory；　backs　against　the　stone；　but　he　could　not　see　them　well　enough　to　waste　an　arrow。　He　heard　distant　shouts；　and　saw　the　archers　on　the　Tower　of　Guards　loosing　shafts　at　the　ground。　That　was　too　far　off　to　concern　Jon。　But　when　he　glimpsed　three　shadows　detach　themselves　from　the　old　stables　fifty　yards　away；　he　stepped　up　to　the　crenel；　raised　his　bow；　and　drew。　They　were　running；　so　he　led　them；　waiting；　waiting　。　。　。
　The　arrow　made　a　soft　hiss　as　it　left　his　string。　A　moment　later　there　was　a　grunt；　and　suddenly　only　two　shadows　were　loping　across　the　yard。　They　ran　all　the　faster；　but　Jon　had　already　pulled　a　second　arrow　from　his　quiver。　This　time　he　hurried　the　shot　too　much；　and　missed。　The　wildlings　were　gone　by　the　time　he　nocked　again。　He　searched　for　another　target；　and　found　four；　rushing　around　the　empty　shell　of　the　Lord　mander's　Keep。　The　moonlight　glimmered　off　their　spears　and　axes；　and　the　gruesome　devices　on　their　round　leathern　shields；　skulls　and　bones；　serpents；　bear　claws；　twisted　demonic　faces。　Free　folk；　he　knew。　The　Therms　carried　shields　of　black　boiled　leather　with　bronze　rims　and　bosses；　but　theirs　were　plain　and　unadorned。　These　were　the　lighter　wicker　shields　of　raiders。
　Jon　pulled　the　goose　feather　back　to　his　ear；　aimed；　and　loosed　the　arrow；　then　nocked　and　drew　and　loosed　again。　The　first　shaft　pierced　the　bearclaw　shield；　the　second　one　a　throat。　The　wildling　screamed　as　he　went　down。　He　heard　the　deep　thrum　of　Deaf　Dick's　crossbow　to　his　left；　and　Satin's　a　moment　later。　〃I　got　one！〃　the　boy　cried　hoarsely。　〃I　got　one　in　the　chest。〃
　〃Get　another；〃　Jon　called。
　He　did　not　have　to　search　for　targets　now；　only　choose　them。　He　dropped　a　wildling　archer　as　he　was　fitting　an　arrow　to　his　string；　then　sent　a　shaft　toward　the　axeman　hacking　at　the　door　of　Hardin's　Tower。　That　time　he　missed；　but　the　arrow　quivering　in　the　oak　made　the　wildling　reconsider。　It　was　only　as　he　was　running　off　that　Jon　recognized　Big　Boil。　Half　a　heartbeat　later；　old　Mully　put　an　arrow　through　his　leg　from　the　roof　of　the　Flint　Barracks；　and　he　crawled　off　bleeding。　That　will　stop　him　bitching　about　his　boil；　Jon　thought。
　When　his　quiver　was　empty；　he　went　to　get　another；　and　moved　to　a　different　crenel；　side　by　side　with　Deaf　Dick　Follard。　Jon　got　off　three　arrows　for　every　bolt　Deaf　Dick　discharged；　but　that　was　the　advantage　of　the　longbow。　The　crossbow　penetrated　better；　some　insisted；　but　it　was　slow　and　cumbersome　to　reload。　He　could　hear　the　wildlings　shouting　to　each　other；　and　somewhere　to　the　west　a　warhom　blew。　The　world　was　moonlight　and　shadow；　and　time　became　an　endless　round　of　notch　and　draw　and　loose。　A　wildling　arrow　ripped　through　the　throat　of　the　straw　sentinel　beside　him；　but　Jon　Snow　scarcely　noticed。　Give　me　one　clean　shot　at　the　Magnar　of　Thenn；　he　prayed　to　his　father's　gods。　The　Magnar　at　least　was　a　foe　that　he　could　hate。　Give　me　Styr。
　His　fingers　were　growing　stiff　and　his　thumb　was　bleeding；　but　still　Jon　notched　and　drew　and　loosed。　A　gout　of　flame　caught　his　eye；　and　he　turned　to　see　door　of　the　mon　hall　afire。　It　was　only　a　few　moments　before　the　whole　great　timbered　hall　was　burning。　Three…Finger　Hobb　and　his　Mole's　Town　helpers　were　safe　atop　the　Wall；　he　knew；　but　it　felt　like　a　punch　in　the　belly　all　the　same。　〃JON；〃　Deaf　Dick　yelled　in　his　thick　voice；　〃the　armory。〃　They　were　on　the　roof；　he　saw。　One　had　a　torch。　Dick　hopped　up　on　the　crenel　for　a　better　shot；　jerked　his　crossbow　to　his　shoulder；　and　sent　a　quarrel　thrumming　toward　the　torch　man。　He　missed。
　The　archer　down　below　him　didn't。
　Follard　never　made　a　sound；　only　toppled　forward　headlong　over　the　parapet。　It　was　a　hundred　feet　to　the　yard　below。　Jon　heard　the　thump　as　he　was　peering　round　a　straw　soldier；　trying　to　see　where　the　arrow　had　e　from。　Not　ten　feet　from　Deaf　Dick's　body；　he　glimpsed　a　leather　shield；　a　ragged　cloak；　a　mop　of　thick　red　hair。　Kissed　by　fire；　he　thought；　lucky。　He　brought　his　bow　up；　but　his　fingers　would　not　part；　and　she　was　gone　as　suddenly　as　she'd　appeared。　He　swiveled；　cursing；　and　loosed　a　shaft　at　the　men　on　the　armory　roof　instead；　but　he　missed　them　as　well。
　By　then　the　east　stables　were　afire　too；　black　smoke　and　wisps　of　burning　hay　pouring　from　the　stalls。　When　the　roof　collapsed；　a　flames　rose　up　roaring；　so　loud　they　almost　drowned　out　the　warhorns　of　the　Thenns。　Fifty　of　them　were　pounding　up　the　kingsroad　in　tight　column；　their　shields　held　up　above　their　heads。　Others　were　swarming　through　the　vegetable　garden；　across　the　flagstone　yard；　around　the　old　dry　well。　Three　had　hacked　their　way　through　the　doors　of　Maester　Aemon's　apartments　in　the　timber　keep　below　the　rookery；　and　a　desperate　fight　was　going　on　atop　the　Silent　Tower；　longswords　against　bronze　axes。　None　of　that　mattered。　The　dance　has　moved　on；　he　thought。
　Jon　hobbled　across　to　Satin　and　grabbed　him　by　the　shoulder。　〃With　me；〃　he　shouted。　Together　they　moved　to　the　north　parapet；　where　the　King's　Tower　looked　down　on　the　gate　and　Donal　Noye's　makeshift　wall　of　logs　and　barrels　and　sacks　of　corn。　The　Therms　were　there　before　them。
　They　wore　halffielms；　and　had　thin　bronze　disks　sewn　to　their　long　leather　shirts。　Many　wielded　bronze　axes；　though　a　few　were　chipped　stone。　More　had　short　stabbing　spears　with　leaf　…shaped　heads　that　gleamed　redly　in　the　light　from　the　burning　stables。　They　were　screaming　in　the　Old　Tongue　as　they　stormed　the　barricade；　jabbing　with　their　spears；　swinging　their　bronze　axes；　spilling　corn　and　blood　with　equal　abandon　while　crossbow　quarrels　and　arrows　rained　down　on　them　from　the　archers　that　Donal　Noye　had　posted　on　the　stair。
　〃What　do　we　do？〃　Satin　shouted。
　〃We　kill　them；〃　Jon　shouted　back；　a　black　arrow　in　his　hand。
　No　archer　could　have　asked　for　an　easier　shot。　The　Thenns　had　their　backs　to　the　King's　Tower　as　they　charged　the　crescent；　clambering　over　bags　and　barrels　to　reach　the　men　in　black。　Both　Jon　and　Satin　chanced　to　choose　the　same　target。　He　had　just　reached　the　top　of　the　barricade　when　an　arrow　sprouted　from　his　neck　and　a　quarrel　between　his　shoulder　blades。　Half　a　heartbeat　later　a　longsword　took　him　in　the　belly　and　he　fell