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The king eats, Robert had said, and the Hand takes the shit. How he had laughed. Yet he had gotten it wrong. The king dies, Ned Stark thought, and the Hand is buried.
国王吃席，劳勃这么说，首相拉屎。那时他笑得好不开心哪，只可惜他弄错了。应该是国王一死，奈德·史塔克心想，首相陪葬。
The dungeon was under the Red Keep, deeper than he dared imagine. He remembered the old stories about Maegor the Cruel, who murdered all the masons who labored on his castle, so they might never reveal its secrets.
地牢位于红堡之下，到底有多深，他不敢去想。他想起与“残酷的”梅葛有关的那些故事，传说所有为他建筑城堡的工匠都遭他谋害，如此一来他们便永不能泄露其中秘密。
He damned them all: Littlefinger, Janos Slynt and his gold cloaks, the queen, the Kingslayer, Pycelle and Varys and Sir Barristan, even Lord Renly, Robert's own blood, who had run when he was needed most. Yet in the end he blamed himself. "Fool," he cried to the darkness, "thrice-damned blind fool."
他诅咒他们每个人小指头、杰诺·史林特和他的金袍卫队、王后、弑君者、派席尔、瓦里斯和巴利斯坦爵士，甚至劳勃的亲弟弟蓝礼公爵，因为他在自己最需要他的时候逃之夭夭。然而到了最后，他责怪的是自己。“蠢才！”他对着黑暗大喊，“你这个天杀的蠢才！”
Cersei Lannister's face seemed to float before him in the darkness. Her hair was full of sunlight, but there was mockery in her smile. "When you play the game of thrones, you win or you die," she whispered. Ned had played and lost, and his men had paid the price of his folly with their life's blood.
瑟曦·兰尼斯特的脸庞在黑暗中浮现眼前。她的秀发宛若阳光，微笑中带着嘲弄。“在权力的游戏之中，你不当赢家，就只有死路一条。”她悄声说。奈德输了这场游戏，他的部属以鲜血和生命为他的愚蠢付出了代价。
When he thought of his daughters, he would have wept gladly, but the tears would not come. Even now, he was a Stark of Winterfell, and his grief and his rage froze hard inside him.
思及两个女儿，他只想放声痛哭一场，可眼泪却硬是掉不下来。纵然到了这步田地，他依旧是个临冬城的史塔克，他的悲伤和狂怒都冻结在体内。
