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Even the truest knight cannot protect a king against himself, Ned said. "Robert loved to hunt boar. I have seen him take a thousand of them." He would stand his ground without flinching, his legs braced, the great spear in his hands, and as often as not he would curse the boar as it charged, and wait until the last possible second, until it was almost on him, before he killed it with a single sure and savage thrust. "No one could know this one would be his death."
“再忠勇的骑士，也没法避免国王伤害自己，”奈德说，“劳勃喜欢猎野猪，我看他杀死过不下一千只。”他总是毫不退缩地站稳脚跟，立定原地，手握长枪，还常趁野猪冲锋时大声咒骂，只等最后一刻，只等野猪几乎要扑到他身上时，他才准确利落地将其一枪刺死。“谁知道他竟会被这只猪所杀呢？”
You are kind to say so, Lord Eddard.
“艾德大人，您太仁慈了。”
The king himself said as much. He blamed the wine.
“连国王自己也这么说。他说是酒坏了事。”
The white-haired knight gave a weary nod. "His Grace was reeling in his saddle by the time we flushed the boar from his lair, yet he commanded us all to stand aside."
白发苍苍的骑士虚弱地点头。“我们把野猪从窝里赶出来时，陛下他已经连马都坐不稳了，但他还是命令我们站到一边。”
I wonder, Sir Barristan, asked Varys, so quietly, "who gave the king this wine?"
“巴利斯坦爵士，我倒是很好奇，”瓦里斯轻声细语地问，“这酒是谁拿给国王的？”
Ned had not heard the eunuch approach, but when he looked around, there he stood. He wore a black velvet robe that brushed the floor, and his face was freshly powdered.
奈德根本没听见太监走近的声音，然而一转头，他就在那儿，穿着曳地的黑天鹅绒长袍，脸上新扑过粉。
The wine was from the king's own skin, Sir Barristan said.
“国王喝的是带在自己身上酒袋里的酒。”巴利斯坦爵士道。
Only one skin? Hunting is such thirsty work.
“就那么一袋？打猎很容易口渴哪。”
I did not keep count. More than one, for a certainty. His squire would fetch him a fresh skin whenever he required it.
“我没有数，但陛下喝的肯定不止一袋。只要他开口，他的侍从就会拿一袋新的给他。”
Such a dutiful boy, said Varys, "to make certain His Grace did not lack for refreshment."
“真是个忠于职守的好孩子，”瓦里斯道，“陛下他永远都不愁没得喝哟。”
