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Bronn came trotting out of the mists, already armored and ahorse, wearing his battered halfhelm. "Do you know what's happened?" Tyrion asked him.
波隆从雾中跑来，已然全副武装，骑在马上，戴着那顶饱经击打的半罩头盔。“发生什么事了？”提利昂问。
The Stark boy stole a march on us, Bronn said. "He crept down the kingsroad in the night, and now his host is less than a mile north of here, forming up in battle array."
“史塔克那小鬼抢先一步，”波隆道，“他趁夜色沿国王大道南下，就在我们北方不到一里，全军成战斗阵形。”
Hurry, the trumpets called, hurry hurry hurry.
快啊，号角仿佛在喊，快啊，快啊，快啊。
See that the clansmen are ready to ride. Tyrion ducked back inside his tent. "Where are my clothes?" he barked at Shae. "There. No, the leather, damn it. Yes. Bring me my boots."
“叫原住民准备出动。”提利昂缩回帐篷。“我的衣服上哪儿去了？”他朝雪伊叫道。“就那件，不对，是那件皮衣，该死，对对，把我靴子拿来。”
By the time he was dressed, his squire had laid out his armor, such that it was. Tyrion owned a fine suit of heavy plate, expertly crafted to fit his misshapen body. Alas, it was safe at Casterly Rock, and he was not. He had to make do with oddments assembled from Lord Lefford's wagons: mail hauberk and coif, a dead knight's gorget, lobstered greaves and gauntlets and pointed steel boots. Some of it was ornate, some plain; not a bit of it matched, or fit as it should. His breastplate was meant for a bigger man; for his oversize head, they found a huge bucket-shaped greathelm topped with a foot-long triangular spike.
等他穿好衣服，侍从已把他的盔甲排好。这身盔甲实在不起眼。提利昂本有一套上好的重铠，特别精心打造，适合他畸形的身体，只可惜而今好端端放在凯岩城，与他相隔千里。他只好将就一下，在莱佛德伯爵的辎重车辆上东拼西凑：锁甲和头套，一名战死骑士的护喉，圆盘护膝，铁手套和尖角钢靴。其中某几件有装饰，有的则样式普通，通通都不成套，颇不合身。他的胸甲原本是要给个子更大的人穿的；为了对付他那颗不合比例的大头，他们找来一个水桶状的大盔，顶端有根一尺长的三角尖刺。
Shae helped Pod with the buckles and clasps. "If I die, weep for me," Tyrion told the whore.
雪伊协助波德为他扣上扣环和系带。“如果我死了，记得要为我掉眼泪。”提利昂告诉妓女。
How will you know? You'll be dead.
“你人都死了，怎么会知道？”
I'll know.
“我就是知道。”
