grrm.astormofswords-第135章

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l　between　his　shoulder　blades。　Half　a　heartbeat　later　a　longsword　took　him　in　the　belly　and　he　fell　back　onto　the　man　behind　him。　Jon　reached　down　to　his　quiver　and　found　it　empty　again。　Satin　was　winding　back　his　crossbow。　He　left　him　to　it　and　went　for　more　arrows；　but　he　hadn't　taken　more　than　three　steps　before　the　trap　slammed　open　three　feet　in　front　of　him。　Bloody　hell；　I　never　even　heard　the　door　break。
　There　was　no　time　to　think　or　plan　or　shout　for　help。　Jon　dropped　his　bow；　reached　back　over　his　shoulder；　ripped　Longclaw　from　its　sheath；　and　buried　the　blade　in　the　middle　of　the　first　head　to　pop　out　of　the　tower。　Bronze　was　no　match　for　Valyrian　steel。　The　blow　sheared　right　through　the　Thenn's　helm　and　deep　into　his　skull；　and　he　went　crashing　back　down　where　he'd　e　from。　There　were　more　behind　him；　Jon　knew　from　the　shouting。　He　fell　back　and　called　to　Satin。　The　next　man　to　make　the　climb　got　a　quarrel　through　his　cheek。　He　vanished　too。　〃The　oil；〃　Jon　said。　Satin　nodded。　Together　they　snatched　up　the　thick　quilted　pads　they'd　left　beside　the　fire；　lifted　the　heavy　kettle　of　boiling　oil；　and　dumped　it　down　the　hole　on　the　Therms　below。　The　shrieks　were　as　bad　as　anything　he　had　ever　heard；　and　Satin　looked　as　though　he　was　going　to　be　sick。　Jon　kicked　the　trapdoor　shut；　set　the　heavy　iron　kettle　on　top　of　it；　and　gave　the　boy　with　the　pretty　face　a　hard　shake。　〃Retch　later；〃　Jon　yelled。　〃e。〃
　They　had　only　been　gone　from　the　parapets　for　a　few　moments；　but　everything　below　had　changed。　A　dozen　black　brothers　and　a　few　Mole's　Town　men　still　stood　atop　the　crates　and　barrels；　but　the　wildlings　were　swarming　over　all　along　the　crescent；　pushing　them　back。　Jon　saw　one　shove　his　spear　up　through　Rast's　belly　so　hard　he　lifted　him　into　the　air。　Young　Henly　was　dead　and　Old　Henly　was　dying；　surrounded　by　foes。　He　could　see　Easy　spinning　and　slashing；　laughing　like　a　loon；　his　cloak　flapping　as　he　leapt　from　cask　to　cask。　A　bronze　axe　caught　him　just　below　the　knee　and　the　laughter　turned　into　a　bubbling　shriek。
　〃They're　breaking；〃　Satin　said。
　〃No；〃　said　Jon；　〃they're　broken。〃
　It　happened　quickly。　One　mole　fled　and　then　another；　and　suddenly　all　the　villagers　were　throwing　down　their　weapons　and　abandoning　the　barricade。　The　brothers　were　too　few　to　hold　alone。　Jon　watched　them　try　and　form　a　line　to　fall　back　in　order；　but　the　Thenns　washed　over　them　with　spear　and　axe；　and　then　they　were　fleeing　too。　Domish　Dilly　slipped　and　went　down　on　his　face；　and　a　wildling　planted　a　spear　between　his　shoulder　blades。　Kegs；　slow　and　short　of　breath；　had　almost　reached　the　bottom　step　when　a　Therm　caught　the　end　of　his　cloak　and　yanked　him　around　。　。　。　but　a　crossbow　quarrel　dropped　the　man　before　his　axe　could　fall。　〃Got　him；〃　Satin　crowed；　as　Kegs　staggered　to　the　stair　and　began　to　crawl　up　the　steps　on　hands　and　knees。
　The　gate　is　lost。　Donal　Noye　had　closed　and　chained　it；　but　it　was　there　for　the　taking；　the　iron　bars　glimmering　red　with　reflected　firelight；　the　cold　black　tunnel　behind。　No　one　had　fallen　back　to　defend　it；　the　only　safety　was　on　top　of　the　Wall；　seven　hundred　feet　up　the　crooked　wooden　stairs。
　〃What　gods　do　you　pray　to？〃　Jon　asked　Satin。
　〃The　Seven；〃　the　boy　from　Oldtown　said。
　〃Pray；　then；〃　Jon　told　him。　〃Pray　to　your　new　gods；　and　I'll　pray　to　my　old　ones。〃　It　all　turned　here。
　With　the　confusion　at　the　trapdoor；　Jon　had　forgotten　to　fill　his　quiver。　He　limped　back　across　the　roof　and　did　that　now；　and　picked　up　his　bow　as　well。　The　kettle　had　not　moved　from　where　he'd　left　it；　so　it　seemed　as　though　they　were　safe　enough　for　the　nonce。　The　dance　has　moved　on；　and　we're　watching　from　the　gallery；　he　thought　as　he　hobbled　back。　Satin　was　loosing　quarrels　at　the　wildlings　on　the　steps；　then　ducking　down　behind　a　merlon　to　cock　the　crossbow。　He　may　be　pretty；　but　he's　quick。
　The　real　battle　was　on　the　steps。　Noye　had　put　spearmen　on　the　two　lowest　landings；　but　the　headlong　flight　of　the　villagers　had　panicked　them　and　they　had　joined　the　flight；　racing　up　toward　the　third　landing　with　the　Therms　killing　anyone　who　fell　behind。　The　archers　and　crossbowmen　on　the　higher　landings　were　trying　to　drop　shafts　over　their　heads。　Jon　nocked　an　arrow；　drew；　and　loosed；　and　was　pleased　when　one　of　the　wildlings　went　rolling　down　the　steps。　The　heat　of　the　fires　was　making　the　Wall　weep；　and　the　flames　danced　and　shimmered　against　the　ice。　The　steps　shook　to　the　footsteps　of　men　running　for　their　lives。
　Again　Jon　notched　and　drew　and　loosed；　but　there　was　only　one　of　him　and　one　of　Satin；　and　a　good　sixty　or　seventy　Therms　pounding　up　the　stairs；　killing　as　they　went；　drunk　on　victory。　On　the　fourth　landing；　three　brothers　in　black　cloaks　stood　shoulder　to　shoulder　with　longswords　in　their　hands；　and　battle　was　joined　again；　briefly。　But　there　were　only　three　and　soon　enough　the　wildling　tide　washed　over　them；　and　their　blood　dripped　down　the　steps。　〃A　man　is　never　so　vulnerable　in　battle　as　when　he　flees；〃　Lord　Eddard　had　told　Jon　once。　〃A　running　man　is　like　a　wounded　animal　to　a　soldier。　It　gets　his　bloodlust　up。〃　The　archers　on　the　fifth　landing　fled　before　the　battle　even　reached　them。　It　was　a　rout；　a　red　rout。
　〃Fetch　thf　torches；〃　Jon　told　Satin。　There　were　four　of　them　stacked　beside　the　fire；　their　heads　wrapped　in　oily　rags。　There　were　a　dozen　fire　arrows　too。　The　Oldtown　boy　thrust　one　torch　into　the　fire　until　it　was　blazing　brightly；　and　brought　the　rest　back　under　his　arm；　unlit。　He　looked　frightened　again；　as　well　he　might。　Jon　was　frightened　too。
　It　was　then　that　he　saw　Styr。　The　Magnar　was　climbing　up　the　barricade；　over　the　gutted　corn　sacks　and　smashed　barrels　and　the　bodies　of　friends　and　foe　alike。　His　bronze　scale　armor　gleamed　darkly　in　the　firelight。　Styr　had　taken　off　his　helm　to　survey　the　scene　of　his　triumph；　and　the　bald　earless　whoreson　was　smiling。　In　his　hand　was　a　long　weirwood　spear　with　an　ornate　bronze　head。　When　he　saw　the　gate；　he　pointed　the　spear　at　it　and　barked　something　in　the　Old　Tongue　to　the　half…dozen　Therms　around　him。　Too　late；　Jon　thought。　You　should　have　led　your　men　over　the　barricade；　you　might　have　been　able　to　save　a　few　。　。　。
　Up　above；　a　warhom　sounded；　long　and　low。　Not　from　the　top　of　the　Wall；　but　from　the　ninth　landing；　some　two　hundred　feet　up；　where　Donal　Noye　was　standing。
　Jon　notched　a　fire　arrow　to　his　bowstring；　and　Satin　lit　it　from　the　torch。　He　stepped　to　the　parapet；　drew；　aimed；　loosed。　Ribbons　of　flame　trailed　behind　as　the　shaft　sped　downward　and　thudded　into　its　target；　crackling。
　Not　Styr。　The　steps。　Or　more　precisely；　the　casks　and　kegs　and　sacks　that　Donal　Noye　had　piled　up　beneath　the　steps；　as　high　as　the　first　landing；　the　barrels　of　lard　and　lamp　oil；　the　bags　of　leaves　and　oily　rags；　the　split　logs；　bark；　and　wood　shavings。　〃Again；〃　said　Jon；　and；　〃Again；〃　and；　〃Again。〃　Other　longbowmen　were　firing　too；　from　every　tower　top　in　range；　some　sending　their　arrows　up　in　high　arcs　to　drop　before　the　Wall。　When　Jon　ran　out　of　fire　arrows；　he　and　Satin　began　to　light　the　torches　and　fling　them　from　the　crenels。
　Up　above　another　fire　was　blooming。　The　old　wooden　steps　had　drunk　up　oil　like　a　sponge；　and　Donal　Noye　had　drenched　them　from　the　ninth　landing　all　the　way　down　to　the　seventh。　Jon　could　only　hope　that　most　of　their　own　people　had　staggered　up　to　safety　before　Noye　threw　the　torches。　The　black　brothers　at　least　had　known　the　plan；　but　the　villagers　had　not。
　Wind　and　fire　did　the　rest。　All　Jon　had　to　do　was　watch。　With　flames　below　and　flames　above；　the　wildlings　had　nowhere　to　go。　Some　continued　upward；　and　died。　Some　went　downward；　and　died。　Some　stayed　where　they　were。　They　died　as　well。　Many　leapt　from　the　steps　before　they　burned；　and　died　from　the　fall。　Twenty…odd　Thenns　were　still　huddled　together　between　the　fires　when　the　ice　cracked　from　the　heat；　and　the　whole　lower　third　of　the　stair　broke　off；　along　with　several　tons　of　ice。　That　was　the　last　that　Jon　Snow　saw　of　Styr；　the　Magnar　of　Thenn。　The　Wall　defends　itself；　he　thought。
　Jon　asked　Satin　to　help　him　down　to　the　yard。　His　wounded　leg　hurt　so　badly　that　he　could　hardly　walk；　even　with　the　crutch。　〃Bring　the　torch；〃　he　told　the　boy　from　Oldtown。　〃I　need　to　look　for　someone。〃　It　had　been　mostly　Thenns　on　the　steps。　Surely　some　of　the　free　folk　had　escaped。　Mance's　people；　not　the　Magnar's。　She　might　have　been　one。　So　they　climbed　down　past　the　bodies　of　the　men　who'd　tried　the　trapdoor；　and　Jon　wandered　through　the　dark　with　his　crutch　under　one　arm；　and　the　other　around　the　shoulders　of　a　boy　who'd　been　a　whore　in　Oldtown。
　The　stables　and　the　mon　hall　had　burned　down　to　smoking　cinders　by　then；　but　the　fire　still　raged　along　the　wall；　climbing　step　by　step　and　landing　by　landing。　From　time　to　time　they'd　hear　a　groan　and　then　a　craaaack；　and　another　chunk　would　e　crashing　off　the　Wall。　The　air　was　full　of　ash　and　ice　crystals。
　He　found　Quort　dead；　and　Stone　Thumbs　dying。　He　found　some　dead　and　dying　Therms　he　had　never　truly　known。　He　found　Big　Boil；　weak　from　all　the　blood　he'd　lost　but　still　alive。
　He　found　Ygritte　sprawled　across　a　patch　of　old　snow　beneath　the　Lord　mander's　Tower；　with　an　arrow　between　her　breasts。　The　ice　crystals　had　settled　over　her　face；　and　in　the　moonlight　it　looked　as　though　she　wore　a　glittering　silver　mask。
　The　arrow　was　black；　Jon　saw；　but　it　was　fletched　with　white　duck　feathers。　Not　mine；　he　told　himself；　not　one　of　mine。　But　he　felt　as　if　it　were。
　When　he　knelt　in　the　snow　beside　her；　her　eyes　opened。　〃Jon　Snow；〃　she　said；　very　softly。　It　sounded　as　though　the　arrow　had　found　a　lung。　〃Is　this　a　proper　castle　now？　Not　just　a　tower？〃
　〃It　is。〃　Jon　took　her　hand。
　〃Good；〃　she　whispered。　〃I　wanted　t'　see　one　proper　castle；　before　。　。　。　before　I　。　。　。〃
　〃You'll　see　a　hundred　castles；〃　he　promised　her。　〃The　battle's　done。　Maester　Aemon　will　see　to　you。〃　He　touched　her　hair。　〃You're　kissed　by　fire；　remember？　Lucky。　It　will　take　more　than　an　arrow　to　kill　you。
　Aemon　will　draw　it　out　and　patch　you　up；　and　we'll　get　you　some　milk　of　the　poppy　for　the　pain。〃
　She　just　smiled　at　that。　〃D'you　remember　that　cave？　We　should　have　stayed　in　that　cave。　I　told　you　so。〃
　〃We'll　go　back　to　the　cave；〃　he　said。　〃You're　not　going　to　die；　Ygritte。　You're　not。〃
　〃Oh。〃　Ygritte　cupped　his　cheek　with　her　hand。　〃You　know　nothing；　Jon　Snow；〃　she　sighed；　dying。
　
　CHAPTER　56
　BRAN
　
　〃It　is　only　another　empty　castle；〃　Meera　Reed　said　as　she　gazed　across　the　desolation　of　rubble；　ruins；　and　weeds。
　No；　thought　Bran；　it　is　the　Nightfort；　and　this　is　the　end　of　the　world。　In　the　mountains；　all　he　could　think　of　was　reaching　the　Wall　and　finding　the　three…eyed　crow；　but　now　that　they　were　here　he　was　filled　with　fears。　The　dream　he'd　had　。　。　。　the　dream　Summer　had　had　。　。　。　No；　I　mustn't　think　about　that　dream。　He　had　not　even　told　the　Reeds；　though　Meera　at　least　seemed　to　sense　that　something　was　wrong。　If　he　never　talked　of　it　maybe　he　could　forget　he　ever　dreamed　it；　and　then　it　wouldn't　have　happened　and　Robb　and　Grey　Wind　would　still　be　。　。　。
　〃Hodor。〃　Hodor　shifted　his　weight；　and　Bran　with　it。　He　was　tired。　They　had　been　walking　for　hours。　At　least　he's　not　afraid。　Bran　was　scared　of　this　p