Perhaps it's a kindness, Theon told himself as he stalked off in the other direction.
或许这算是发善心吧,席恩转身直直地走开,边走边想。
Stygg was hardly the most expert of headsmen, and Benfred had a neck thick as a boar's, heavy with muscle and fat.
斯提吉不是个利索的刽子手,而本福德的颈项粗得像猪脖子,又肥又胖。
I used to mock him for it, just to see how angry I could make him, he remembered.
我还拿这个取笑过他,就为了逗他生气,席恩回忆着。
That had been, what, three years past?
呵,那是什么时候的事啦?三年前吧?
When Ned Stark had ridden to Torrhen's Square to see Ser Helman, Theon had accompanied him and spent a fortnight in Benfred's company.
当年艾德·史塔克前去托伦方城拜访赫曼爵士,席恩也跟去了,跟本福德做了两个星期的伙伴。
He could hear the rough noises of victory from the crook in the road where the battle had been fought...
他听见大路转弯处传来粗鲁的欢呼声,那里是战斗进行的地方……
if you'd go so far as to call it a battle.
如果这也算战斗的话。
More like slaughtering sheep, if truth be told.
事实上,根本就是屠杀绵羊。
Sheep fleeced in steel, but sheep nonetheless.
穿铁衣的绵羊,还是绵羊。
Climbing a jumble of stone, Theon looked down on the dead men and dying horses.
席恩爬上一座乱石冈,俯瞰下方的尸体和死马。
The horses had deserved better.
马的待遇比较好,
Tymor and his brothers had gathered up what mounts had come through the fight unhurt,
泰莫兄弟把战斗中未受伤的马都聚集起来,
while Urzen and Black Lorren silenced the animals too badly wounded to be saved.
乌兹和黑罗伦则把伤势过重的马匹一一砍杀。
The rest of his men were looting the corpses.
他的其他部下在尸体上掠夺战利品。
Gevin Harlaw knelt on a dead man's chest, sawing off his finger to get at a ring.
吉文·哈尔洛跪在死人胸前锯对方指头,以攫取戒指。
Paying the iron price. My lord father would approve.
这就是付铁钱,这就是父亲赞许的方式。
Theon thought of seeking out the bodies of the two men he'd slain himself to see if they had any jewelry worth the taking,
席恩盘算着前去搜刮自己杀的那两人,看看有什么值钱东西好拿,
but the notion left a bitter taste in his mouth.
但一念及此,嘴边却油然滋生一抹淡淡的苦味。
He could imagine what Eddard Stark would have said.
他仿佛能听到艾德·史塔克的评语。
Yet that thought made him angry too.
这种想像让他非常生气。
Stark is dead and rotting, and naught to me, he reminded himself.
史塔克死了烂掉了,他什么也不是,席恩反复提醒自己。
Old Botley, who was called Fishwhiskers, sat scowling by his pile of plunder while his three sons added to it.
老波特里,人称“鱼胡子”,阴沉地坐在他那堆小山般的战利品上,三个儿子将搜刮的东西不断拿过来。
One of them was in a shoving match with a fat man named Todric,
其中一个和肥胖的托德利克推搡起来。
who was reeling among the slain with a horn of ale in one hand and an axe in the other,
托德利克一手握角杯一手执斧头,在死人堆上晃荡,
clad in a cloak of white foxfur only slightly stained by the blood of its previous owner.
穿戴的白色狐皮披风迎风招展,纯白的皮料上只沾染了几滴故主的血液。
Drunk, Theon decided, watching him bellow.
他醉了,席恩明白,看他吼叫的模样。
It was said that the ironmen of old had oft been blood-drunk in battle,
传说古代铁民上战场前要豪饮鲜血,
so berserk that they felt no pain and feared no foe, but this was a common ale-drunk.
由此带来的狂暴将让他们不觉痛苦、无所畏惧,但眼前这人只是麦酒喝过了头。
"Wex, my bow and quiver." The boy ran and fetched them.
“威克斯,弓箭给我。”男孩跑过来递上弓。
Theon bent the bow and slipped the string into its notches as Todric knocked down the Botley boy and flung ale into his eyes.
席恩弯弓搭箭,静静地看着托德利克击倒波特里的孩子,并把酒泼进他的眼睛。