评论
打印
When Pylos returned the girl came with him, shy as ever. Behind her, shuffling and hopping in that queer sideways walk of his, came her fool. On his head was a mock helm fashioned from an old tin bucket, with a rack of deer antlers strapped to the crown and hung with cowbells. With his every lurching step, the bells rang, each with a different voice, clang-a-dang bong-dong ring-a-ling clong clong clong.
小女孩跟着派洛斯一起进来，羞怯一如往常。在她身后拖步轻跳、古怪横行的，则是她的弄臣。他戴着一顶老旧锡桶做的玩具头盔，顶端捆了两根鹿角，上面挂着牛铃，随着他的蹒跚脚步而发出不同声响：铿啷当、碰咚、铃铃、嗑啷啷。
Who comes to see us so early, Pylos? Cressen said.
“派洛斯，是谁一大早来拜访我们？”克礼森问。
It's me and Patches, Maester. Guileless blue eyes blinked at him. Hers was not a pretty face, alas. The child had her lord father's square jut of jaw and her mother's unfortunate ears, along with a disfigurement all her own, the legacy of the bout of greyscale that had almost claimed her in the crib. Across half one cheek and well down her neck, her flesh was stiff and dead, the skin cracked and flaking, mottled black and grey and stony to the touch. "Pylos said we might see the white raven."
“师傅，是我和阿丁。”她天真无瑕的蓝眼睛朝他直眨，只可惜她的脸蛋并不漂亮。这孩子不仅有她父亲突出的方下巴，而且很不幸地继承了她母亲那双耳朵。除此之外，她年幼时曾感染灰鳞病，险些丧命，后虽逃过一劫，却留下可怕的残缺：半边脸颊直到颈部下方，皮肤全部僵硬坏死，表面干裂，层层剥落，夹杂着黑灰斑点，抚触起来宛如硬石。“派洛斯说可以让我们看看白鸦。”
Indeed you may, Cressen answered. As if he would ever deny her. She had been denied too often in her time. Her name was Shireen. She would be ten on her next name day, and she was the saddest child that Maester Cressen had ever known.
“当然可以。”克礼森回答。他怎么忍心拒绝她？难道她失去的还不够多吗？她名叫希琳，就快满十岁了，而她是克礼森学士所见过最哀伤的孩子。
