“The king’s tourney,” Ned corrected, wincing1. “I assure you, the Hand wants no part of it.”
“Call it what you will, my lord. Knights2 have been arriving from all over the realm, and for everyknight we get two freeriders, three craftsmen4, six men-at-arms, a dozen merchants, two dozen whores,and more thieves than I dare guess. This cursed heat had half the city in a fever to start, and now withall these visitors … last night we had a drowning, a tavern5 riot, three knife fights, a rape6, two fires,robberies beyond count, and a drunken horse race down the Street of the Sisters. The night before awoman’s head was found in the Great Sept, floating in the rainbow pool. No one seems to know howit got there or who it belongs to.”
“How dreadful,” Varys said with a shudder7.
Lord Renly Baratheon was less sympathetic. “If you cannot keep the king’s peace, Janos, perhapsthe City Watch should be commanded by someone who can.”
Stout8, jowly Janos Slynt puffed9 himself up like an angry frog, his bald pate10 reddening. “Aegon theDragon himself could not keep the peace, Lord Renly. I need more men.”
“How many?” Ned asked, leaning forward. As ever, Robert had not troubled himself to attend thecouncil session, so it fell to his Hand to speak for him.
“As many as can be gotten, Lord Hand.”
“Hire fifty new men,” Ned told him. “Lord Baelish will see that you get the coin.”
“I will?” Littlefinger said.
“You will. You found forty thousand golden dragons for a champion’s purse, surely you canscrape together a few coppers12 to keep the king’s peace.” Ned turned back to Janos Slynt. “I will alsogive you twenty good swords from my own household guard, to serve with the Watch until thecrowds have left.”
“All thanks, Lord Hand,” Slynt said, bowing. “I promise you, they shall be put to good use.”
When the Commander had taken his leave, Eddard Stark13 turned to the rest of the council. “Thesooner this folly14 is done with, the better I shall like it.” As if the expense and trouble were notirksome enough, all and sundry15 insisted on salting Ned’s wound by calling it “the Hand’s tourney,” asif he were the cause of it. And Robert honestly seemed to think he should feel honored!
“The realm prospers16 from such events, my lord,” Grand Maester Pycelle said. “They bring thegreat the chance of glory, and the lowly a respite17 from their woes18.”
“And put coins in many a pocket,” Littlefinger added. “Every inn in the city is full, and thewhores are walking bowlegged and jingling19 with each step.”
Lord Renly laughed. “We’re fortunate my brother Stannis is not with us. Remember the time heproposed to outlaw20 brothels? The king asked him if perhaps he’d like to outlaw eating, shitting, andbreathing while he was at it. If truth be told, I ofttimes wonder how Stannis ever got that uglydaughter of his. He goes to his marriage bed like a man marching to a battlefield, with a grim look inhis eyes and a determination to do his duty.”
Ned had not joined the laughter. “I wonder about your brother Stannis as well. I wonder when heintends to end his visit to Dragonstone and resume his seat on this council.”
“No doubt as soon as we’ve scourged21 all those whores into the sea,” Littlefinger replied, provoking more laughter.
“I have heard quite enough about whores for one day,” Ned said, rising. “Until the morrow.”
Harwin had the door when Ned returned to the Tower of the Hand. “Summon Jory to my chambersand tell your father to saddle my horse,” Ned told him, too brusquely.
“As you say, my lord.”
The Red Keep and the “Hand’s tourney” were chafing23 him raw, Ned reflected as he climbed. Heyearned for the comfort of Catelyn’s arms, for the sounds of Robb and Jon crossing swords in thepractice yard, for the cool days and cold nights of the north.
In his chambers22 he stripped off his council silks and sat for a moment with the book while hewaited for Jory to arrive. The Lineages and Histories of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms,With Descriptions of Many High Lords and Noble Ladies and Their Children, by Grand MaesterMalleon. Pycelle had spoken truly; it made for ponderous24 reading. Yet Jon Arryn had asked for it, andNed felt certain he had reasons. There was something here, some truth buried in these brittle25 yellowpages, if only he could see it. But what? The tome was over a century old. Scarcely a man now alivehad yet been born when Malleon had compiled his dusty lists of weddings, births, and deaths.
He opened to the section on House Lannister once more, and turned the pages slowly, hopingagainst hope that something would leap out at him. The Lannisters were an old family, tracing theirdescent back to Lann the Clever, a trickster from the Age of Heroes who was no doubt as legendaryas Bran the Builder, though far more beloved of singers and taletellers. In the songs, Lann was thefellow who winkled the Casterlys out of Casterly Rock with no weapon but his wits, and stole goldfrom the sun to brighten his curly hair. Ned wished he were here now, to winkle the truth out of thisdamnable book.
A sharp rap on the door heralded26 Jory Cassel. Ned closed Malleon’s tome and bid him enter. “I’vepromised the City Watch twenty of my guard until the tourney is done,” he told him. “I rely on you tomake the choice. Give Alyn the command, and make certain the men understand that they are neededto stop fights, not start them.” Rising, Ned opened a cedar27 chest and removed a light linen28 undertunic.
“Did you find the stableboy?”
“The watchman, my lord,” Jory said. “He vows29 he’ll never touch another horse.”
“What did he have to say?”
“He claims he knew Lord Arryn well. Fast friends, they were.” Jory snorted. “The Hand alwaysgave the lads a copper11 on their name days, he says. Had a way with horses. Never rode his mounts toohard, and brought them carrots and apples, so they were always pleased to see him.”
“Carrots and apples,” Ned repeated. It sounded as if this boy would be even less use than theothers. And he was the last of the four Littlefinger had turned up. Jory had spoken to each of them inturn. Ser Hugh had been brusque and uninformative, and arrogant30 as only a new-made knight3 can be.
If the Hand wished to talk to him, he should be pleased to receive him, but he would not bequestioned by a mere31 captain of guards … even if said captain was ten years older and a hundredtimes the swordsman. The serving girl had at least been pleasant. She said Lord Jon had been readingmore than was good for him, that he was troubled and melancholy32 over his young son’s frailty33, andgruff with his lady wife. The potboy, now cordwainer, had never exchanged so much as a word withLord Jon, but he was full of oddments of kitchen gossip: the lord had been quarreling with the king,the lord only picked at his food, the lord was sending his boy to be fostered on Dragonstone, the lordhad taken a great interest in the breeding of hunting hounds, the lord had visited a master armorer tocommission a new suit of plate, wrought34 all in pale silver with a blue jasper falcon35 and a mother-ofpearlmoon on the breast. The king’s own brother had gone with him to help choose the design, thepotboy said. No, not Lord Renly, the other one, Lord Stannis.
“Did our watchman recall anything else of note?”
“The lad swears Lord Jon was as strong as a man half his age. Often went riding with LordStannis, he says.”
Stannis again, Ned thought. He found that curious. Jon Arryn and he had been cordial, but neverfriendly. And while Robert had been riding north to Winterfell, Stannis had removed himself toDragonstone, the Targaryen island fastness he had conquered in his brother’s name. He had given noword as to when he might return. “Where did they go on these rides?” Ned asked.
“The boy says that they visited a brothel.”
“A brothel?” Ned said. “The Lord of the Eyrie and Hand of the King visited a brothel with Stannis Baratheon?” He shook his head, incredulous, wondering what Lord Renly would make of thistidbit. Robert’s lusts36 were the subject of ribald drinking songs throughout the realm, but Stannis was adifferent sort of man; a bare year younger than the king, yet utterly37 unlike him, stern, humorless,unforgiving, grim in his sense of duty.
aratheon?” He shook his head, incredulous, wondering what Lord Renly would make of thistidbit. Robert’s lusts were the subject of ribald drinking songs throughout the realm, but Stannis was adifferent sort of man; a bare year younger than the king, yet utterly unlike him, stern, humorless,unforgiving, grim in his sense of duty.
“The boy insists it’s true. The Hand took three guardsmen with him, and the boy says they werejoking of it when he took their horses afterward38.”
“Which brothel?” Ned asked.
“The boy did not know. The guards would.”
“A pity Lysa carried them off to the Vale,” Ned said dryly. “The gods are doing their best to vexus. Lady Lysa, Maester Colemon, Lord Stannis … everyone who might actually know the truth ofwhat happened to Jon Arryn is a thousand leagues away.”
“Will you summon Lord Stannis back from Dragonstone?”
“Not yet,” Ned said. “Not until I have a better notion of what this is all about and where hestands.” The matter nagged39 at him. Why did Stannis leave? Had he played some part in Jon Arryn’smurder? Or was he afraid? Ned found it hard to imagine what could frighten Stannis Baratheon, whohad once held Storm’s End through a year of siege, surviving on rats and boot leather while the LordsTyrell and Redwyne sat outside with their hosts, banqueting in sight of his walls.
“Bring me my doublet, if you would. The grey, with the direwolf sigil. I want this armorer toknow who I am. It might make him more forthcoming.”
Jory went to the wardrobe. “Lord Renly is brother to Lord Stannis as well as the king.”
“Yet it seems that he was not invited on these rides.” Ned was not sure what to make of Renly,with all his friendly ways and easy smiles. A few days past, he had taken Ned aside to show him anexquisite rose gold locklet. Inside was a miniature painted in the vivid Myrish style, of a lovely younggirl with doe’s eyes and a cascade40 of soft brown hair. Renly had seemed anxious to know if the girlreminded him of anyone, and when Ned had no answer but a shrug41, he had seemed disappointed. Themaid was Loras Tyrell’s sister Margaery, he’d confessed, but there were those who said she lookedlike Lyanna. “No,” Ned had told him, bemused. Could it be that Lord Renly, who looked so like ayoung Robert, had conceived a passion for a girl he fancied to be a young Lyanna? That struck him asmore than passing queer.
Jory held out the doublet, and Ned slid his hands through the armholes. “Perhaps Lord Stannis willreturn for Robert’s tourney,” he said as Jory laced the garment up the back.
“That would be a stroke of fortune, my lord,” Jory said.
Ned buckled42 on a longsword. “In other words, not bloody43 likely.” His smile was grim.
Jory draped Ned’s cloak across his shoulders and clasped it at the throat with the Hand’s badge ofoffice. “The armorer lives above his shop, in a large house at the top of the Street of Steel. Alynknows the way, my lord.”
Ned nodded. “The gods help this potboy if he’s sent me off haring after shadows.” It was a slimenough staff to lean on, but the Jon Arryn that Ned Stark had known was not one to wear jeweled andsilvered plate. Steel was steel; it was meant for protection, not ornament44. He might have changed hisviews, to be sure. He would scarcely have been the first man who came to look on things differentlyafter a few years at court … but the change was marked enough to make Ned wonder.
“Is there any other service I might perform?”
“I suppose you’d best begin visiting whorehouses.”
“Hard duty, my lord.” Jory grinned. “The men will be glad to help. Porther has made a fair startalready.”
Ned’s favorite horse was saddled and waiting in the yard. Varly and Jacks45 fell in beside him as herode through the yard. Their steel caps and shirts of mail must have been sweltering, yet they said noword of complaint. As Lord Eddard passed beneath the King’s Gate into the stink46 of the city, his greyand white cloak streaming from his shoulders, he saw eyes everywhere and kicked his mount into atrot. His guard followed.
He looked behind him frequently as they made their way through the crowded city streets. Tomardand Desmond had left the castle early this morning to take up positions on the route they must take,and watch for anyone following them, but even so, Ned was uncertain. The shadow of the King’sSpider and his little birds had him fretting47 like a maiden48 on her wedding night.
The Street of Steel began at the market square beside the River Gate, as it was named on maps, or the Mud Gate, as it was commonly called. A mummer on stilts49 was striding through the throngslike some great insect, with a horde50 of barefoot children trailing behind him, hooting51. Elsewhere, tworagged boys no older than Bran were dueling52 with sticks, to the loud encouragement of some and thefurious curses of others. An old woman ended the contest by leaning out of her window and emptyinga bucket of slops on the heads of the combatants. In the shadow of the wall, farmers stood beside theirwagons, bellowing54 out, “Apples, the best apples, cheap at twice the price,” and “Blood melons, sweetas honey,” and “Turnips55, onions, roots, here you go here, here you go, turnips, onions, roots, here yougo here.”
rwagons, bellowing out, “Apples, the best apples, cheap at twice the price,” and “Blood melons, sweetas honey,” and “Turnips, onions, roots, here you go here, here you go, turnips, onions, roots, here yougo here.”
The Mud Gate was open, and a squad56 of City Watchmen stood under the portcullis in their goldencloaks, leaning on spears. When a column of riders appeared from the west, the guardsmen spranginto action, shouting commands and moving the carts and foot traffic aside to let the knight enter withhis escort. The first rider through the gate carried a long black banner. The silk rippled57 in the windlike a living thing; across the fabric58 was blazoned59 a night sky slashed60 with purple lightning. “Makeway for Lord Beric!” the rider shouted. “Make way for Lord Beric!” And close behind came theyoung lord himself, a dashing figure on a black courser, with red-gold hair and a black satin cloakdusted with stars. “Here to fight in the Hand’s tourney, my lord?” a guardsman called out to him.
“Here to win the Hand’s tourney,” Lord Beric shouted back as the crowd cheered.
Ned turned off the square where the Street of Steel began and followed its winding61 path up a longhill, past blacksmiths working at open forges, freeriders haggling62 over mail shirts, and grizzledironmongers selling old blades and razors from their wagons53. The farther they climbed, the larger thebuildings grew. The man they wanted was all the way at the top of the hill, in a huge house of timberand plaster whose upper stories loomed63 over the narrow street. The double doors showed a huntingscene carved in ebony and weirwood. A pair of stone knights stood sentry64 at the entrance, armored infanciful suits of polished red steel that transformed them into griffin and unicorn65. Ned left his horsewith Jacks and shouldered his way inside.
The slim young serving girl took quick note of Ned’s badge and the sigil on his doublet, and themaster came hurrying out, all smiles and bows. “Wine for the King’s Hand,” he told the girl,gesturing Ned to a couch. “I am Tobho Mott, my lord, please, please, put yourself at ease.” He wore ablack velvet66 coat with hammers embroidered67 on the sleeves in silver thread. Around his neck was aheavy silver chain and a sapphire68 as large as a pigeon’s egg. “If you are in need of new arms for theHand’s tourney, you have come to the right shop.” Ned did not bother to correct him. “My work iscostly, and I make no apologies for that, my lord,” he said as he filled two matching silver goblets69.
“You will not find craftsmanship70 equal to mine anywhere in the Seven Kingdoms, I promise you.
Visit every forge in King’s Landing if you like, and compare for yourself. Any village smith canhammer out a shirt of mail; my work is art.”
Ned sipped71 his wine and let the man go on. The Knight of Flowers bought all his armor here,Tobho boasted, and many high lords, the ones who knew fine steel, and even Lord Renly, the king’sown brother. Perhaps the Hand had seen Lord Renly’s new armor, the green plate with the goldenantlers? No other armorer in the city could get that deep a green; he knew the secret of putting colorin the steel itself, paint and enamel72 were the crutches73 of a journeyman. Or mayhaps the Hand wanteda blade? Tobho had learned to work Valyrian steel at the forges of Qohor as a boy. Only a man whoknew the spells could take old weapons and forge them anew. “The direwolf is the sigil of HouseStark, is it not? I could fashion a direwolf helm so real that children will run from you in the street,”
he vowed74.
Ned smiled. “Did you make a falcon helm for Lord Arryn?”
Tobho Mott paused a long moment and set aside his wine. “The Hand did call upon me, with LordStannis, the king’s brother. I regret to say, they did not honor me with their patronage75.”
Ned looked at the man evenly, saying nothing, waiting. He had found over the years that silencesometimes yielded more than questions. And so it was this time.
“They asked to see the boy,” the armorer said, “so I took them back to the forge.”
“The boy,” Ned echoed. He had no notion who the boy might be. “I should like to see the boy aswell.”
Tobho Mott gave him a cool, careful look. “As you wish, my lord,” he said with no trace of hisformer friendliness76. He led Ned out a rear door and across a narrow yard, back to the cavernous stonebarn where the work was done. When the armorer opened the door, the blast of hot air that came through made Ned feel as though he were walking into a dragon’s mouth. Inside, a forge blazed ineach corner, and the air stank77 of smoke and sulfur78. Journeymen armorers glanced up from theirhammers and tongs79 just long enough to wipe the sweat from their brows, while bare-chestedapprentice boys worked the bellows81.
rhammers and tongs just long enough to wipe the sweat from their brows, while bare-chestedapprentice boys worked the bellows.
The master called over a tall lad about Robb’s age, his arms and chest corded with muscle. “This isLord Stark, the new Hand of the King,” he told him as the boy looked at Ned through sullen82 blue eyesand pushed back sweat-soaked hair with his fingers. Thick hair, shaggy and unkempt and black as ink.
The shadow of a new beard darkened his jaw83. “This is Gendry. Strong for his age, and he works hard.
Show the Hand that helmet you made, lad.” Almost shyly, the boy led them to his bench, and a steelhelm shaped like a bull’s head, with two great curving horns.
Ned turned the helm over in his hands. It was raw steel, unpolished but expertly shaped. “This isfine work. I would be pleased if you would let me buy it.”
The boy snatched it out of his hands. “It’s not for sale.”
Tobho Mott looked horror-struck. “Boy, this is the King’s Hand. If his lordship wants this helm,make him a gift of it. He honors you by asking.”
“I made it for me,” the boy said stubbornly.
“A hundred pardons, my lord,” his master said hurriedly to Ned. “The boy is crude as new steel,and like new steel would profit from some beating. That helm is journeyman’s work at best. Forgivehim and I promise I will craft you a helm like none you have ever seen.”
“He’s done nothing that requires my forgiveness. Gendry, when Lord Arryn came to see you,what did you talk about?”
“He asked me questions is all, m’lord.”
“What sort of questions?”
The boy shrugged84. “How was I, and was I well treated, and if I liked the work, and stuff about mymother. Who she was and what she looked like and all.”
“What did you tell him?” Ned asked.
The boy shoved a fresh fall of black hair off his forehead. “She died when I was little. She hadyellow hair, and sometimes she used to sing to me, I remember. She worked in an alehouse.”
“Did Lord Stannis question you as well?”
“The bald one? No, not him. He never said no word, just glared at me, like I was some raper85 whodone for his daughter.”
“Mind your filthy86 tongue,” the master said. “This is the King’s own Hand.” The boy lowered hiseyes. “A smart boy, but stubborn. That helm … the others call him bullheaded, so he threw it in theirteeth.”
Ned touched the boy’s head, fingering the thick black hair. “Look at me, Gendry.” The apprenticelifted his face. Ned studied the shape of his jaw, the eyes like blue ice. Yes, he thought, I see it. “Goback to your work, lad. I’m sorry to have bothered you.” He walked back to the house with themaster. “Who paid the boy’s apprentice80 fee?” he asked lightly.
Mott looked fretful. “You saw the boy. Such a strong boy. Those hands of his, those hands weremade for hammers. He had such promise, I took him on without a fee.”
“The truth now,” Ned urged. “The streets are full of strong boys. The day you take on anapprentice without a fee will be the day the Wall comes down. Who paid for him?”
“A lord,” the master said reluctantly. “He gave no name, and wore no sigil on his coat. He paid ingold, twice the customary sum, and said he was paying once for the boy, and once for my silence.”
“Describe him.”
“He was stout, round of shoulder, not so tall as you. Brown beard, but there was a bit of red in it,I’ll swear. He wore a rich cloak, that I do remember, heavy purple velvet worked with silver threads,but the hood87 shadowed his face and I never did see him clear.” He hesitated a moment. “My lord, Iwant no trouble.”
“None of us wants trouble, but I fear these are troubled times, Master Mott,” Ned said. “Youknow who the boy is.”
“I am only an armorer, my lord. I know what I’m told.”
“You know who the boy is,” Ned repeated patiently. “That is not a question.”
“The boy is my apprentice,” the master said. He looked Ned in the eye, stubborn as old iron.
“Who he was before he came to me, that’s none of my concern.”
Ned nodded. He decided88 that he liked Tobho Mott, master armorer. “If the day ever comes whenGendry would rather wield89 a sword than forge one, send him to me. He has the look of a warrior90.
Until then, you have my thanks, Master Mott, and my promise. Should I ever want a helm to frightenchildren, this will be the first place I visit.”
His guard was waiting outside with the horses. “Did you find anything, my lord?” Jacks asked asNed mounted up.
“I did,” Ned told him, wondering. What had Jon Arryn wanted with a king’s bastard91, and why wasit worth his life?
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wincing
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的现在分词 ) | |
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knights
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| 骑士； （中古时代的）武士( knight的名词复数 )； 骑士； 爵士； （国际象棋中）马 | |
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knight
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craftsmen
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tavern
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rape
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shudder
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puffed
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pate
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copper
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coppers
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stark
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folly
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sundry
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prospers
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respite
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woes
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jingling
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outlaw
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chambers
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chafing
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ponderous
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brittle
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heralded
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cedar
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linen
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frailty
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wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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35
falcon
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| n.隼，猎鹰 | |
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36
lusts
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| 贪求（lust的第三人称单数形式） | |
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37
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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39
nagged
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| adj.经常遭责怪的；被压制的；感到厌烦的；被激怒的v.不断地挑剔或批评（某人）( nag的过去式和过去分词 )；不断地烦扰或伤害（某人）；无休止地抱怨；不断指责 | |
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40
cascade
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| n.小瀑布，喷流；层叠；vi.成瀑布落下 | |
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41
shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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42
buckled
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| a. 有带扣的 | |
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43
bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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ornament
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| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
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45
jacks
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| n.抓子游戏；千斤顶( jack的名词复数 )；（电）插孔；[电子学]插座；放弃 | |
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46
stink
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| vi.发出恶臭；糟透，招人厌恶；n.恶臭 | |
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47
fretting
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| n. 微振磨损 adj. 烦躁的, 焦虑的 | |
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48
maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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49
stilts
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| n.（支撑建筑物高出地面或水面的）桩子，支柱( stilt的名词复数 )；高跷 | |
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50
horde
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| n.群众，一大群 | |
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51
hooting
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| （使）作汽笛声响，作汽车喇叭声( hoot的现在分词 )； 倒好儿； 倒彩 | |
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52
dueling
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| n. 决斗, 抗争(=duelling) 动词duel的现在分词形式 | |
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53
wagons
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| n.四轮的运货马车( wagon的名词复数 )；铁路货车；小手推车 | |
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54
bellowing
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的现在分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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55
turnips
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| 芜青( turnip的名词复数 )； 芜菁块根； 芜菁甘蓝块根； 怀表 | |
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56
squad
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| n.班，小队，小团体；vt.把…编成班或小组 | |
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rippled
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| 使泛起涟漪（ripple的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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58
fabric
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| n.织物，织品，布；构造，结构，组织 | |
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59
blazoned
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| v.广布( blazon的过去式和过去分词 )；宣布；夸示；装饰 | |
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slashed
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| v.挥砍( slash的过去式和过去分词 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
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winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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62
haggling
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| v.讨价还价( haggle的现在分词 ) | |
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63
loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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sentry
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| n.哨兵，警卫 | |
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65
unicorn
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| n.(传说中的)独角兽 | |
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66
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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68
sapphire
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| n.青玉，蓝宝石；adj.天蓝色的 | |
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goblets
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| n.高脚酒杯( goblet的名词复数 ) | |
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70
craftsmanship
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| n.手艺 | |
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71
sipped
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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72
enamel
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| n.珐琅，搪瓷，瓷釉；(牙齿的)珐琅质 | |
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crutches
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| n.拐杖, 支柱 v.支撑 | |
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74
vowed
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| 起誓，发誓（vow的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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75
patronage
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| n.赞助，支援，援助；光顾，捧场 | |
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76
friendliness
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| n.友谊，亲切，亲密 | |
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77
stank
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| n. (英)坝，堰，池塘 动词stink的过去式 | |
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78
sulfur
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| n.硫，硫磺（=sulphur） | |
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79
tongs
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| n.钳；夹子 | |
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80
apprentice
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| n.学徒，徒弟 | |
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81
bellows
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| n.风箱；发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的名词复数 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的第三人称单数 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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82
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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83
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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84
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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85
raper
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| [法] 强奸犯 | |
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86
filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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87
hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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88
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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89
wield
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| vt.行使，运用，支配；挥，使用(武器等) | |
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90
warrior
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| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
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91
bastard
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| n.坏蛋，混蛋；私生子 | |
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