评论
打印
Ser Balon Swann’s men, most like, or Lancel’s, trying to throw the enemy back into the water as they swarmed ashore off the burning ships.
敌人从燃烧的舰船中蜂拥上岸，巴隆·史文和蓝赛尔的人正竭力抵抗。
“We’ll ride for the Mud Gate,” he commanded.
“去烂泥门！”他下令。
Ser Mandon shouted, “The Mud Gate!”
曼登爵士喊道：“烂泥门！”
And they were off again.
于是他们再次出发。
“King’s Landing!” his men cried raggedly, and “Halfman! Halfman!”
“君临万岁！”途中他的人此起彼伏地叫嚷，还有人喊“半人万岁！半人万岁！”
He wondered who had taught them that.
真不知是谁教他们的。
Through the steel and padding of his helm, he heard anguished screams, the hungry crackle of flame,
透过加衬垫的厚重钢盔，传来痛苦的嘶叫，火焰饥渴的劈啪声，
the shuddering of warhorns, and the brazen blast of trumpets.
颤抖的战号，嘹亮的铜喇叭。
Fire was everywhere.
到处都是火。
Gods be good, no wonder the Hound was frightened.
诸神慈悲，难怪猎狗吓坏了。
It’s the flames he fears …
他怕的是火……
A splintering crash rang across the Blackwater as a stone the size of a horse landed square amidships on one of the galleys.
一声巨响回荡在黑水河上，有艘船被一块马大的石头扎扎实实地截为两段。
Ours or theirs?
这是我军还是敌军？
Through the roiling smoke, he could not tell.
烟雾弥漫，无法分辨。
His wedge was gone; every man was his own battle now.
楔形队列已经散乱，每个人都各自为战。
I should have turned back, he thought, riding on.
我该回去了，他一边这么想，一边继续往前骑。
The axe was heavy in his fist.
手中的战斧越来越沉，
A handful still followed him, the rest dead or fled.
身边只剩几个人，其余的要么死去要么逃散。
He had to wrestle his stallion to keep his head to the east.
他使劲拽马，迫使它始终向东。
The big destrier liked fire no more than Sandor Clegane had, but the horse was easier to cow.
这匹大红马跟桑铎·克里冈一样不喜欢火，但好歹容易驾驭。
Men were crawling from the river, men burned and bleeding, coughing up water, staggering, most dying.
许多敌人狼狈不堪地从河里爬出，身带烧伤，通体浴血，一边不住呛水，多数都快死去。
He led his troop among them, delivering quicker cleaner deaths to those strong enough to stand.
他带着他的小队伍在他们中间穿行，给那些还能站起来的人一个利落的死亡。
The war shrank to the size of his eye slit.
战争局限于眼缝之前，
Knights twice his size fled from him, or stood and died.
比他高出一倍的骑士若不拔腿逃窜，就得死于非命。
They seemed little things, and fearful.
他们变得如此渺小，如此惊恐。
“Lannister!” he shouted, slaying.
“兰尼斯特万岁！”他纵声高呼，大开杀戒，
His arm was red to the elbow, glistening in the light off the river.
手臂一直到肘成了红色，在河面的光线照耀下泛着血光。
When his horse reared again, he shook his axe at the stars and heard them call out “Halfman! Halfman!”
他勒马直立，向着天上的群星一振战斧，只听众人狂喊：“半人万岁！半人万岁！”
Tyrion felt drunk.
提利昂醉了。
The battle fever.
这就是战斗狂热吧。
He had never thought to experience it himself, though Jaime had told him of it often enough.
詹姆从前经常描述，但他从未想过会亲身体验。
How time seemed to blur and slow and even stop, how the past and the future vanished until there was nothing but the instant,
时间变得含糊，变得缓慢，终至停顿，过去和将来一齐消失，惟有此情此景、此时此刻，
how fear fled, and thought fled, and even your body.
而恐惧、思想、甚至身体都不复存在。
