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He glimpsed the bull moose of the Hornwoods, the Karstark sunburst, Lord Cerwyn's battle-axe, and the mailed fist of the Glovers... and the twin towers of Frey, blue on grey. So much for his father's certainty that Lord Walder would not bestir himself. The white of House Stark was seen everywhere, the grey direwolves seeming to run and leap as the banners swirled and streamed from the high staffs. Where is the boy? Tyrion wondered.
他瞥见霍伍德家族的驼鹿旗帜、卡史塔克家族的日芒旗、赛文伯爵的战斧旗、葛洛佛家族的盔甲铁拳……其间更有佛雷家族的灰底蓝色双塔旗，前几天父亲还信誓旦旦地说瓦德大人不会出兵。史塔克家族的白色旗帜四处可见，旌旗在风中飘荡，翻飞于长竿之上，灰色的冰原狼仿佛也在旗帜上奔跃。那小鬼在哪里？提利昂纳闷。
A warhorn blew. Haroooooooooooooooooooooooo, it cried, its voice as long and low and chilling as a cold wind from the north. The Lannister trumpets answered, da-DA da-DA da-DAAAAAAAAA, brazen and defiant, yet it seemed to Tyrion that they sounded somehow smaller, more anxious. He could feel a fluttering in his bowels, a queasy liquid feeling; he hoped he was not going to die sick.
军号响起，呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜，低沉而悠长，有如来自北方的冷风，令人不寒而栗。兰尼斯特的喇叭随即回应，嘟——嘟、嘟——嘟、嘟——嘟嘟嘟嘟嘟嘟嘟嘟嘟嘟，宏亮而不驯，只是提利昂的心中却觉得比较小声，且有些不安。他的五脏六腑一阵翻搅，涌起一股恶心，眩然欲呕；他暗暗希望自己可别因反胃而死。
As the horns died away, a hissing filled the air; a vast flight of arrows arched up from his right, where the archers stood flanking the road. The northerners broke into a run, shouting as they came, but the Lannister arrows fell on them like hail, hundreds of arrows, thousands, and shouts turned to screams as men stumbled and went down. By then a second flight was in the air, and the archers were fitting a third arrow to their bowstrings.
当号声渐息，嘶嘶声填满了空缺。在他右边，道路两侧的弓箭手洒出一阵箭雨，北方人开步快跑，边跑边吼。兰尼斯特的弓箭如冰雹一般朝他们身上招呼，百枝，千枝，刹那间不可胜数。不少人中箭倒地，呐喊转为哀嚎。这时第二波攻击已从空中落下，弓箭手们纷纷将第三枝箭搭上弓弦。
