“They await our coming, my lady,” Ser Wylis Manderly said, “as my lord father swore theywould.”
“Let us not keep them waiting any longer, ser.” Ser Brynden Tully put the spurs to his horse andtrotted briskly toward the banners. Catelyn rode beside him.
Ser Wylis and his brother Ser Wendel followed, leading their levies4, near fifteen hundred men:
some twenty-odd knights5 and as many squires6, two hundred mounted lances, swordsmen, andfreeriders, and the rest foot, armed with spears, pikes and tridents. Lord Wyman had remained behindto see to the defenses of White Harbor. A man of near sixty years, he had grown too stout7 to sit ahorse. “If I had thought to see war again in my lifetime, I should have eaten a few less eels8,” he’d toldCatelyn when he met her ship, slapping his massive belly9 with both hands. His fingers were fat assausages. “My boys will see you safe to your son, though, have no fear.”
His “boys” were both older than Catelyn, and she might have wished that they did not take aftertheir father quite so closely. Ser Wylis was only a few eels short of not being able to mount his ownhorse; she pitied the poor animal. Ser Wendel, the younger boy, would have been the fattest manshe’d ever known, had she only neglected to meet his father and brother. Wylis was quiet and formal,Wendel loud and boisterous10; both had ostentatious walrus11 mustaches and heads as bare as a baby’sbottom; neither seemed to own a single garment that was not spotted12 with food stains. Yet she likedthem well enough; they had gotten her to Robb, as their father had vowed14, and nothing else mattered.
She was pleased to see that her son had sent eyes out, even to the east. The Lannisters would comefrom the south when they came, but it was good that Robb was being careful. My son is leading a hostto war, she thought, still only half believing it. She was desperately15 afraid for him, and for Winterfell,yet she could not deny feeling a certain pride as well. A year ago he had been a boy. What was henow? she wondered.
Outriders spied the Manderly banners—the white merman with trident in hand, rising from a blue-green sea—and hailed them warmly. They were led to a spot of high ground dry enough for a camp.
Ser Wylis called a halt there, and remained behind with his men to see the fires laid and the horsestended, while his brother Wendel rode on with Catelyn and her uncle to present their father’s respectsto their liege lord.
The ground under their horses’ hooves was soft and wet. It fell away slowly beneath them as theyrode past smoky peat fires, lines of horses, and wagons16 heavy-laden with hardbread and salt beef. Ona stony17 outcrop of land higher than the surrounding country, they passed a lord’s pavilion with wallsof heavy sailcloth. Catelyn recognized the banner, the bull moose of the Hornwoods, brown on itsdark orange field.
Just beyond, through the mists, she glimpsed the walls and towers of Moat Cailin … or whatremained of them. Immense blocks of black basalt, each as large as a crofter’s cottage, lay scatteredand tumbled like a child’s wooden blocks, half-sunk in the soft boggy19 soil. Nothing else remained of acurtain wall that had once stood as high as Winterfell’s. The wooden keep was gone entirely21, rotted away a thousand years past, with not so much as a timber to mark where it had stood. All that wasleft of the great stronghold of the First Men were three towers … three where there had once beentwenty, if the taletellers could be believed.
The Gatehouse Tower looked sound enough, and even boasted a few feet of standing22 wall to eitherside of it. The Drunkard’s Tower, off in the bog20 where the south and west walls had once met, leanedlike a man about to spew a bellyful of wine into the gutter23. And the tall, slender Children’s Tower,where legend said the children of the forest had once called upon their nameless gods to send thehammer of the waters, had lost half its crown. It looked as if some great beast had taken a bite out ofthe crenellations along the tower top, and spit the rubble24 across the bog. All three towers were greenwith moss25. A tree was growing out between the stones on the north side of the Gatehouse Tower, itsgnarled limbs festooned with ropy white blankets of ghostskin.
“Gods have mercy,” Ser Brynden exclaimed when he saw what lay before them. “This is MoatCailin? It’s no more than a—”
“—death trap,” Catelyn finished. “I know how it looks, Uncle. I thought the same the first time Isaw it, but Ned assured me that this ruin is more formidable than it seems. The three surviving towerscommand the causeway from all sides, and any enemy must pass between them. The bogs26 here areimpenetrable, full of quicksands and suckholes and teeming27 with snakes. To assault any of the towers,an army would need to wade28 through waist-deep black muck, cross a moat full of lizard-lions, andscale walls slimy with moss, all the while exposing themselves to fire from archers29 in the othertowers.” She gave her uncle a grim smile. “And when night falls, there are said to be ghosts, coldvengeful spirits of the north who hunger for southron blood.”
Ser Brynden chuckled30. “Remind me not to linger here. Last I looked, I was southron myself.”
Standards had been raised atop all three towers. The Karstark sunburst hung from the Drunkard’sTower, beneath the direwolf; on the Children’s Tower it was the Greatjon’s giant in shattered chains.
But on the Gatehouse Tower, the Stark banner flew alone. That was where Robb had made his seat.
Catelyn made for it, with Ser Brynden and Ser Wendel behind her, their horses stepping slowly downthe log-and-plank road that had been laid across the green-and-black fields of mud.
She found her son surrounded by his father’s lords bannermen, in a drafty hall with a peat firesmoking in a black hearth31. He was seated at a massive stone table, a pile of maps and papers in frontof him, talking intently with Roose Bolton and the Greatjon. At first he did not notice her … but hiswolf did. The great grey beast was lying near the fire, but when Catelyn entered he lifted his head,and his golden eyes met hers. The lords fell silent one by one, and Robb looked up at the sudden quietand saw her. “Mother!” he said, his voice thick with emotion.
Catelyn wanted to run to him, to kiss his sweet brow, to wrap him in her arms and hold him sotightly that he would never come to harm … but here in front of his lords, she dared not. He wasplaying a man’s part now, and she would not take that away from him. So she held herself at the farend of the basalt slab32 they were using for a table. The direwolf got to his feet and padded across theroom to where she stood. It seemed bigger than a wolf ought to be. “You’ve grown a beard,” she saidto Robb, while Grey Wind sniffed33 her hand.
He rubbed his stubbled jaw34, suddenly awkward. “Yes.” His chin hairs were redder than the ones onhis head.
“I like it.” Catelyn stroked the wolf’s head, gently. “It makes you look like my brother Edmure.”
Grey Wind nipped at her fingers, playful, and trotted3 back to his place by the fire.
Ser Helman Tallhart was the first to follow the direwolf across the room to pay his respects,kneeling before her and pressing his brow to her hand. “Lady Catelyn,” he said, “you are fair as ever,a welcome sight in troubled times.” The Glovers followed, Galbart and Robett, and Greatjon Umber,and the rest, one by one. Theon Greyjoy was the last. “I had not looked to see you here, my lady,” hesaid as he knelt.
“I had not thought to be here,” Catelyn said, “until I came ashore35 at White Harbor, and LordWyman told me that Robb had called the banners. You know his son, Ser Wendel,” Wendel Manderlystepped forward and bowed as low as his girth would allow. “And my uncle, Ser Brynden Tully, whohas left my sister’s service for mine.”
“The Blackfish,” Robb said. “Thank you for joining us, ser. We need men of your courage. Andyou, Ser Wendel, I am glad to have you here. Is Ser Rodrik with you as well, Mother? I’ve missedhim.”
“Ser Rodrik is on his way north from White Harbor. I have named him castellan and commandedhim to hold Winterfell till our return. Maester Luwin is a wise counsellor, but unskilled in the arts ofwar.”
dhim to hold Winterfell till our return. Maester Luwin is a wise counsellor, but unskilled in the arts ofwar.”
“Have no fear on that count, Lady Stark,” the Greatjon told her in his bass36 rumble37. “Winterfell issafe. We’ll shove our swords up Tywin Lannister’s bunghole soon enough, begging your pardons, andthen it’s on to the Red Keep to free Ned.”
“My lady, a question, as it please you.” Roose Bolton, Lord of the Dreadfort, had a small voice,yet when he spoke38 larger men quieted to listen. His eyes were curiously39 pale, almost without color,and his look disturbing. “It is said that you hold Lord Tywin’s dwarf40 son as captive. Have youbrought him to us? I vow13, we should make good use of such a hostage.”
“I did hold Tyrion Lannister, but no longer,” Catelyn was forced to admit. A chorus ofconsternation greeted the news. “I was no more pleased than you, my lords. The gods saw fit to freehim, with some help from my fool of a sister.” She ought not to be so open in her contempt, she knew,but her parting from the Eyrie had not been pleasant. She had offered to take Lord Robert with her, tofoster him at Winterfell for a few years. The company of other boys would do him good, she haddared to suggest. Lysa’s rage had been frightening to behold41. “Sister or no,” she had replied, “if youtry to steal my son, you will leave by the Moon Door.” After that there was no more to be said.
The lords were anxious to question her further, but Catelyn raised a hand. “No doubt we will havetime for all this later, but my journey has fatigued42 me. I would speak with my son alone. I know youwill forgive me, my lords.” She gave them no choice; led by the ever-obliging Lord Hornwood, thebannermen bowed and took their leave. “And you, Theon,” she added when Greyjoy lingered. Hesmiled and left them.
There was ale and cheese on the table. Catelyn filled a horn, sat, sipped43, and studied her son. Heseemed taller than when she’d left, and the wisps of beard did make him look older. “Edmure wassixteen when he grew his first whiskers.”
“I will be sixteen soon enough,” Robb said.
“And you are fifteen now. Fifteen, and leading a host to battle. Can you understand why I mightfear, Robb?”
His look grew stubborn. “There was no one else.”
“No one?” she said. “Pray, who were those men I saw here a moment ago? Roose Bolton, RickardKarstark, Galbart and Robett Glover, the Greatjon, Helman Tallhart … you might have given thecommand to any of them. Gods be good, you might even have sent Theon, though he would not bemy choice.”
“They are not Starks,” he said.
“They are men, Robb, seasoned in battle. You were fighting with wooden swords less than a yearpast.”
She saw anger in his eyes at that, but it was gone as quick as it came, and suddenly he was a boyagain. “I know,” he said, abashed44. “Are you … are you sending me back to Winterfell?”
Catelyn sighed. “I should. You ought never have left. Yet I dare not, not now. You have come toofar. Someday these lords will look to you as their liege. If I pack you off now, like a child being sentto bed without his supper, they will remember, and laugh about it in their cups. The day will comewhen you need them to respect you, even fear you a little. Laughter is poison to fear. I will not do thatto you, much as I might wish to keep you safe.”
“You have my thanks, Mother,” he said, his relief obvious beneath the formality.
She reached across his table and touched his hair. “You are my firstborn, Robb. I have only to lookat you to remember the day you came into the world, red-faced and squalling.”
He rose, clearly uncomfortable with her touch, and walked to the hearth. Grey Wind rubbed hishead against his leg. “You know … about Father?”
“Yes.” The reports of Robert’s sudden death and Ned’s fall had frightened Catelyn more than shecould say, but she would not let her son see her fear. “Lord Manderly told me when I landed at WhiteHarbor. Have you had any word of your sisters?”
“There was a letter,” Robb said, scratching his direwolf under the jaw. “One for you as well, but itcame to Winterfell with mine.” He went to the table, rummaged45 among some maps and papers, andreturned with a crumpled46 parchment. “This is the one she wrote me, I never thought to bring yours.”
Something in Robb’s tone troubled her. She smoothed out the paper and read. Concern gave way to disbelief, then to anger, and lastly to fear. “This is Cersei’s letter, not your sister’s,” she said whenshe was done. “The real message is in what Sansa does not say. All this about how kindly47 and gentlythe Lannisters are treating her … I know the sound of a threat, even whispered. They have Sansahostage, and they mean to keep her.”
r’s,” she said whenshe was done. “The real message is in what Sansa does not say. All this about how kindly and gentlythe Lannisters are treating her … I know the sound of a threat, even whispered. They have Sansahostage, and they mean to keep her.”
“There’s no mention of Arya,” Robb pointed48 out, miserable49.
“No.” Catelyn did not want to think what that might mean, not now, not here.
“I had hoped … if you still held the Imp18, a trade of hostages …” He took Sansa’s letter andcrumpled it in his fist, and she could tell from the way he did it that it was not the first time. “Is thereword from the Eyrie? I wrote to Aunt Lysa, asking help. Has she called Lord Arryn’s banners, do youknow? Will the knights of the Vale come join us?”
“Only one,” she said, “the best of them, my uncle … but Brynden Blackfish was a Tully first. Mysister is not about to stir beyond her Bloody50 Gate.”
Robb took it hard. “Mother, what are we going to do? I brought this whole army together, eighteenthousand men, but I don’t … I’m not certain …” He looked to her, his eyes shining, the proud younglord melted away in an instant, and quick as that he was a child again, a fifteen-year-old boy lookingto his mother for answers.
It would not do.
“What are you so afraid of, Robb?” she asked gently.
“I …” He turned his head away, to hide the first tear. “If we march … even if we win … theLannisters hold Sansa, and Father. They’ll kill them, won’t they?”
“They want us to think so.”
“You mean they’re lying?”
“I do not know, Robb. What I do know is that you have no choice. If you go to King’s Landingand swear fealty51, you will never be allowed to leave. If you turn your tail and retreat to Winterfell,your lords will lose all respect for you. Some may even go over to the Lannisters. Then the queen,with that much less to fear, can do as she likes with her prisoners. Our best hope, our only true hope,is that you can defeat the foe52 in the field. If you should chance to take Lord Tywin or the Kingslayercaptive, why then a trade might very well be possible, but that is not the heart of it. So long as youhave power enough that they must fear you, Ned and your sister should be safe. Cersei is wise enoughto know that she may need them to make her peace, should the fighting go against her.”
“What if the fighting doesn’t go against her?” Robb asked. “What if it goes against us?”
Catelyn took his hand. “Robb, I will not soften53 the truth for you. If you lose, there is no hope forany of us. They say there is naught54 but stone at the heart of Casterly Rock. Remember the fate ofRhaegar’s children.”
She saw the fear in his young eyes then, but there was a strength as well. “Then I will not lose,” hevowed.
“Tell me what you know of the fighting in the riverlands,” she said. She had to learn if he wastruly ready.
“Less than a fortnight past, they fought a battle in the hills below the Golden Tooth,” Robb said.
“Uncle Edmure had sent Lord Vance and Lord Piper to hold the pass, but the Kingslayer descendedon them and put them to flight. Lord Vance was slain55. The last word we had was that Lord Piper wasfalling back to join your brother and his other bannermen at Riverrun, with Jaime Lannister on hisheels. That’s not the worst of it, though. All the time they were battling in the pass, Lord Tywin wasbringing a second Lannister army around from the south. It’s said to be even larger than Jaime’s host.
“Father must have known that, because he sent out some men to oppose them, under the king’sown banner. He gave the command to some southron lordling, Lord Erik or Derik or something likethat, but Ser Raymun Darry rode with him, and the letter said there were other knights as well, and aforce of Father’s own guardsmen. Only it was a trap. Lord Derik had no sooner crossed the Red Forkthan the Lannisters fell upon him, the king’s banner be damned, and Gregor Clegane took them in therear as they tried to pull back across the Mummer’s Ford56. This Lord Derik and a few others may haveescaped, no one is certain, but Ser Raymun was killed, and most of our men from Winterfell. LordTywin has closed off the kingsroad, it’s said, and now he’s marching north toward Harrenhal, burningas he goes.”
Grim and grimmer, thought Catelyn. It was worse than she’d imagined. “You mean to meet him here?” she asked.
“If he comes so far, but no one thinks he will,” Robb said. “I’ve sent word to Howland Reed,Father’s old friend at Greywater Watch. If the Lannisters come up the Neck, the crannogmen willbleed them every step of the way, but Galbart Glover says Lord Tywin is too smart for that, andRoose Bolton agrees. He’ll stay close to the Trident, they believe, taking the castles of the river lordsone by one, until Riverrun stands alone. We need to march south to meet him.”
The very idea of it chilled Catelyn to the bone. What chance would a fifteen-year-old boy haveagainst seasoned battle commanders like Jaime and Tywin Lannister? “Is that wise? You are stronglyplaced here. It’s said that the old Kings in the North could stand at Moat Cailin and throw back hoststen times the size of their own.”
“Yes, but our food and supplies are running low, and this is not land we can live off easily. We’vebeen waiting for Lord Manderly, but now that his sons have joined us, we need to march.”
She was hearing the lords bannermen speaking with her son’s voice, she realized. Over the years,she had hosted many of them at Winterfell, and been welcomed with Ned to their own hearths57 andtables. She knew what sorts of men they were, each one. She wondered if Robb did.
And yet there was sense in what they said. This host her son had assembled was not a standingarmy such as the Free Cities were accustomed to maintain, nor a force of guardsmen paid in coin.
Most of them were smallfolk: crofters, fieldhands, fishermen, sheepherders, the sons of innkeeps andtraders and tanners, leavened58 with a smattering of sellswords and freeriders hungry for plunder59. Whentheir lords called, they came … but not forever. “Marching is all very well,” she said to her son, “butwhere, and to what purpose? What do you mean to do?”
Robb hesitated. “The Greatjon thinks we should take the battle to Lord Tywin and surprise him,”
he said, “but the Glovers and the Karstarks feel we’d be wiser to go around his army and join up withUncle Ser Edmure against the Kingslayer.” He ran his fingers through his shaggy mane of auburnhair, looking unhappy. “Though by the time we reach Riverrun … I’m not certain …”
“Be certain,” Catelyn told her son, “or go home and take up that wooden sword again. You cannotafford to seem indecisive in front of men like Roose Bolton and Rickard Karstark. Make no mistake,Robb—these are your bannermen, not your friends. You named yourself battle commander.
Command.”
Her son looked at her, startled, as if he could not credit what he was hearing. “As you say, Mother.”
“I’ll ask you again. What do you mean to do?”
Robb drew a map across the table, a ragged60 piece of old leather covered with lines of faded paint.
One end curled up from being rolled; he weighed it down with his dagger61. “Both plans have virtues,but … look, if we try to swing around Lord Tywin’s host, we take the risk of being caught betweenhim and the Kingslayer, and if we attack him … by all reports, he has more men than I do, and a lotmore armored horse. The Greatjon says that won’t matter if we catch him with his breeches down, butit seems to me that a man who has fought as many battles as Tywin Lannister won’t be so easilysurprised.”
“Good,” she said. She could hear echoes of Ned in his voice, as he sat there, puzzling over themap. “Tell me more.”
“I’d leave a small force here to hold Moat Cailin, archers mostly, and march the rest down thecauseway,” he said, “but once we’re below the Neck, I’d split our host in two. The foot can continuedown the kingsroad, while our horsemen cross the Green Fork at the Twins.” He pointed. “WhenLord Tywin gets word that we’ve come south, he’ll march north to engage our main host, leaving ourriders free to hurry down the west bank to Riverrun.” Robb sat back, not quite daring to smile, butpleased with himself and hungry for her praise.
Catelyn frowned down at the map. “You’d put a river between the two parts of your army.”
“And between Jaime and Lord Tywin,” he said eagerly. The smile came at last. “There’s nocrossing on the Green Fork above the ruby62 ford, where Robert won his crown. Not until the Twins, allthe way up here, and Lord Frey controls that bridge. He’s your father’s bannerman, isn’t that so?”
The Late Lord Frey, Catelyn thought. “He is,” she admitted, “but my father has never trusted him.
Nor should you.”
“I won’t,” Robb promised. “What do you think?”
She was impressed despite herself. He looks like a Tully, she thought, yet he’s still his father’s son,and Ned taught him well. “Which force would you command?”
“The horse,” he answered at once. Again like his father; Ned would always take the moredangerous task himself.
“And the other?”
“The Greatjon is always saying that we should smash Lord Tywin. I thought I’d give him thehonor.”
It was his first misstep, but how to make him see it without wounding his fledgling confidence?
“Your father once told me that the Greatjon was as fearless as any man he had ever known.”
Robb grinned. “Grey Wind ate two of his fingers, and he laughed about it. So you agree, then?”
“Your father is not fearless,” Catelyn pointed out. “He is brave, but that is very different.”
Her son considered that for a moment. “The eastern host will be all that stands between LordTywin and Winterfell,” he said thoughtfully. “Well, them and whatever few bowmen I leave here atthe Moat. So I don’t want someone fearless, do I?”
“No. You want cold cunning, I should think, not courage.”
“Roose Bolton,” Robb said at once. “That man scares me.”
“Then let us pray he will scare Tywin Lannister as well.”
Robb nodded and rolled up the map. “I’ll give the commands, and assemble an escort to take youhome to Winterfell.”
Catelyn had fought to keep herself strong, for Ned’s sake and for this stubborn brave son of theirs.
She had put despair and fear aside, as if they were garments she did not choose to wear … but nowshe saw that she had donned them after all.
“I am not going to Winterfell,” she heard herself say, surprised at the sudden rush of tears thatblurred her vision. “My father may be dying behind the walls of Riverrun. My brother is surroundedby foes63. I must go to them.”
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stark
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| adj.荒凉的；严酷的；完全的；adv.完全地 | |
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reined
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| 勒缰绳使（马）停步( rein的过去式和过去分词 )； 驾驭； 严格控制； 加强管理 | |
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trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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levies
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| （部队）征兵( levy的名词复数 )； 募捐； 被征募的军队 | |
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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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squires
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| n.地主，乡绅( squire的名词复数 ) | |
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eels
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| abbr. 电子发射器定位系统（=electronic emitter location system） | |
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belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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boisterous
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| adj.喧闹的，欢闹的 | |
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walrus
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| n.海象 | |
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spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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vow
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| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
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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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desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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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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stony
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| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
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imp
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| n.顽童 | |
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boggy
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| adj.沼泽多的 | |
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bog
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| n.沼泽；室...陷入泥淖 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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gutter
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| n.沟，街沟，水槽，檐槽，贫民窟 | |
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rubble
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| n.（一堆）碎石，瓦砾 | |
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moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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bogs
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| n.沼泽，泥塘( bog的名词复数 )；厕所v.（使）陷入泥沼， （使）陷入困境( bog的第三人称单数 )；妨碍，阻碍 | |
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teeming
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| adj.丰富的v.充满( teem的现在分词 )；到处都是；（指水、雨等）暴降；倾注 | |
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wade
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| v.跋涉，涉水；n.跋涉 | |
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archers
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| n.弓箭手，射箭运动员( archer的名词复数 ) | |
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chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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slab
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| n.平板，厚的切片；v.切成厚板，以平板盖上 | |
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sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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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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ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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bass
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| n.男低音(歌手)；低音乐器；低音大提琴 | |
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rumble
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| n.隆隆声；吵嚷；v.隆隆响；低沉地说 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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dwarf
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| n.矮子，侏儒，矮小的动植物；vt.使…矮小 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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fatigued
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| adj. 疲乏的 | |
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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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abashed
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| adj.窘迫的，尴尬的v.使羞愧，使局促，使窘迫( abash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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rummaged
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| 翻找，搜寻( rummage的过去式和过去分词 )； 已经海关检查 | |
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crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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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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fealty
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| n.忠贞，忠节 | |
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foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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soften
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| v.(使)变柔软；(使)变柔和 | |
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naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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Ford
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| n.浅滩，水浅可涉处；v.涉水，涉过 | |
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hearths
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| 壁炉前的地板，炉床，壁炉边( hearth的名词复数 ) | |
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leavened
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| adj.加酵母的v.使（面团）发酵( leaven的过去式和过去分词 )；在…中掺入改变的因素 | |
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plunder
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| vt.劫掠财物，掠夺；n.劫掠物，赃物；劫掠 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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ruby
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| n.红宝石，红宝石色 | |
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foes
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| 敌人，仇敌( foe的名词复数 ) | |
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