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Not as grotesquely huge as Harrenhal, nor as solid and impregnable to look at as Storm’s End,
它不若赫伦堡那么荒诞地庞大，也不如风息堡那么坚不可摧，
yet there had been a great strength in those stones, a sense that within those walls a man might feel safe.
但石墙里自有一股蕴涵的力量，让置身其中的人觉得安全。
The news of the castle’s fall had come as a wrenching shock.
此城陷落的消息让他深感震撼。
“The gods give with one hand and take with the other,” he muttered under his breath when Varys told him.
“诸神一手付出，一手收取，”瓦里斯告诉他时，他喃喃低语。
They had given the Starks Harrenhal and taken Winterfell, a dismal exchange.
他们把赫伦堡交给史塔克家，同时取走临冬城。一次拙劣的交换。
No doubt he should be rejoicing.
当然，他应该高兴。
Robb Stark would have to turn north now.
从今往后，罗柏·史塔克不得不用兵北方——
If he could not defend his own home and hearth, he was no sort of king at all.
如果连自己的堡垒和家园都守不住，他算哪门子国王？
It meant reprieve for the west, for House Lannister, and yet …
看来兰尼斯特家西境根据地的形势暂缓，然而……
Tyrion had only the vaguest memory of Theon Greyjoy from his time with the Starks.
对席恩·葛雷乔伊，在作客北境的短短时间，提利昂只有极模糊的记忆。
A callow youth, always smiling, skilled with a bow;
他是个乳臭未干的小子，很爱笑，擅用弓；
it was hard to imagine him as Lord of Winterfell.
很难想像他竟成了临冬城主。
The Lord of Winterfell would always be a Stark.
临冬城主一直都是史塔克啊。
He remembered their godswood;
他想起他们的神木林：
the tall sentinels armored in their grey-green needles, the great oaks, the hawthorn and ash and soldier pines,
高大的哨兵树以灰绿的松针作铠甲，还有大橡树、山楂树、铁树、岑树及士卒松。
and at the center the heart tree standing like some pale giant frozen in time.
心树挺立于核心，好似冻结在时光之中的白巨人。
He could almost smell the place, earthy and brooding, the smell of centuries, and he remembered how dark the wood had been even by day.
他仿佛还能闻到那里沉静的乡土气息，那种酝酿千年的味道，那片树林纵然白天亦是阴暗。
That wood was Winterfell.
那片树林就是临冬城。
It was the north.
那片树林就是北境。
I never felt so out of place as I did when I walked there, so much an unwelcome intruder.
当我在林间行走，从未有过的格格不入感油然而生，仿佛自己就是一个不受欢迎的闯入者。
He wondered if the Greyjoys would feel it too.
不知葛雷乔伊家的人会不会有同感。
The castle might well be theirs, but never that godswood.
城堡也许由他们掌控，但那片神木林绝不会。
Not in a year, or ten, or fifty.
一年不会，十年不会，再过五十年仍不可能。
Tyrion Lannister walked his horse slowly toward the Mud Gate.
提利昂·兰尼斯特策马缓缓朝烂泥门骑去。
Winterfell is nothing to you, he reminded himself.
临冬城与你无关，他提醒自己，
Be glad the place has fallen, and look to your own walls.
它的陷落是你的幸运，该留心的是自己的城防。
The gate was open.
城门大开，
Inside, three great trebuchets stood side by side in the market square, peering over the battlements like three huge birds.
三座巨大的投石机并排矗立于市集广场，如三头站着的巨鸟，向城垛外张望。
Their throwing arms were made from the trunks of old oaks, and banded with iron to keep them from splitting.
投掷臂由老橡树的树干制成，铁箍以防断裂。
