I am the queen’s man still. Today, tomorrow, always, until my last breath, or hers. Barristan Selmy refused to believe that Daenerys Targaryen was dead.
Perhaps that was why he was being put aside. One by one, Hizdahr removes us all. Strong Belwas lingered at the door of death in the temple, under the care of the Blue Graces … though Selmy half suspected they were finishing the job those honeyed locusts1 had begun. Skahaz Shavepate had been stripped of his command. The Unsullied had withdrawn2 to their barracks. Jhogo, Daario Naharis, Admiral Groleo, and Hero of the Unsullied remained hostages of the Yunkai’i. Aggo and Rakharo and the rest of the queen’s khalasar had been dispatched across the river to search for their lost queen. Even Missandei had been replaced; the king did not think it fit to use a child as his herald3, and a onetime Naathi slave at that. And now me.
There was a time when he might have taken this dismissal as a blot4 upon his honor. But that was in Westeros. In the viper’s pit that was Meereen, honor seemed as silly as a fool’s motley. And this mistrust was mutual5. Hizdahr zo Loraq might be his queen’s consort6, but he would never be his king. “If His Grace wishes for me to remove myself from court …”
“His Radiance,” the seneschal corrected. “No, no, no, you misunderstand me. His Worship is to receive a delegation7 from the Yunkai’i, to discuss the withdrawal8 of their armies. They may ask for … ah … recompense for those who lost their lives to the dragon’s wroth. A delicate situation. The king feels it will be better if they see a Meereenese king upon the throne, protected by Meereenese warriors9. Surely you can understand that, ser.”
I understand more than you know. “Might I know which men His Grace has chosen to protect him?”
Reznak mo Reznak smiled his slimy smile. “Fearsome fighters, who love His Worship well. Goghor the Giant. Khrazz. The Spotted10 Cat. Belaquo Bonebreaker. Heroes all.”
Pit fighters all. Ser Barristan was unsurprised. Hizdahr zo Loraq sat uneasily on his new throne. It had been a thousand years since Meereen last had a king, and there were some even amongst the old blood who thought they might have made a better choice than him. Outside the city sat the Yunkai’i with their sellswords and their allies; inside were the Sons of the Harpy.
And the king’s protectors grew fewer every day. Hizdahr’s blunder with Grey Worm had cost him the Unsullied. When His Grace had tried to put them under the command of a cousin, as he had the Brazen11 Beasts, Grey Worm had informed the king that they were free men who took commands only from their mother. As for the Brazen Beasts, half were freedmen and the rest shavepates, whose true loyalty12 might still be to Skahaz mo Kandaq. The pit fighters were King Hizdahr’s only reliable support, against a sea of enemies.
“May they defend His Grace against all threats.” Ser Barristan’s tone gave no hint of his true feelings; he had learned to hide such back in King’s Landing years ago.
“His Magnificence,” Reznak mo Reznak stressed. “Your other duties shall remain unchanged, ser. Should this peace fail, His Radiance would still wish for you to command his forces against the enemies of our city.”
He has that much sense, at least. Belaquo Bonebreaker and Goghor the Giant might serve as Hizdahr’s shields, but the notion of either leading an army into battle was so ludicrous that the old knight13 almost smiled. “I am His Grace’s to command.”
“Not Grace,” the seneschal complained. “That style is Westerosi. His Magnificence, His Radiance, His Worship.”
His Vanity would fit better. “As you say.”
Reznak licked his lips. “Then we are done.” This time his oily smile betokened14 dismissal. Ser Barristan took his leave, grateful to leave the stench of the seneschal’s perfume behind him. A man should smell of sweat, not flowers.
The Great Pyramid of Meereen was eight hundred feet high from base to point. The seneschal’s chambers16 were on the second level. The queen’s apartments, and his own, occupied the highest step. A long climb for a man my age, Ser Barristan thought, as he started up. He had been known to make that climb five or six times a day on the queen’s business, as the aches in his knees and the small of his back could attest17. There will come a day when I can no longer face these steps, he thought, and that day will be here sooner than I would like. Before it came, he must make certain that at least a few of his lads were ready to take his place at the queen’s side. I will knight them myself when they are worthy18, and give them each a horse and golden spurs.
The royal apartments were still and silent. Hizdahr had not taken up residence there, preferring to establish his own suite19 of rooms deep in the heart of the Great Pyramid, where massive brick walls surrounded him on all sides. Mezzara, Miklaz, Qezza, and the rest of the queen’s young cupbearers—hostages in truth, but both Selmy and the queen had become so fond of them that it was hard for him to think of them that way—had gone with the king, whilst Irri and Jhiqui departed with the other Dothraki. Only Missandei remained, a forlorn little ghost haunting the queen’s chambers at the apex21 of the pyramid.
Ser Barristan walked out onto the terrace. The sky above Meereen was the color of corpse22 flesh, dull and white and heavy, a mass of unbroken cloud from horizon to horizon. The sun was hidden behind a wall of cloud. It would set unseen, as it had risen unseen that morning. The night would be hot, a sweaty, suffocating23, sticky sort of night without a breath of air. For three days rain had threatened, but not a drop had fallen. Rain would come as a relief. It might help wash the city clean.
From here he could see four lesser24 pyramids, the city’s western walls, and the camps of the Yunkishmen by the shores of Slaver’s Bay, where a thick column of greasy25 smoke twisted upward like some monstrous26 serpent. The Yunkishmen burning their dead, he realized. The pale mare27 is galloping28 through their siege camps. Despite all the queen had done, the sickness had spread, both within the city walls and without. Meereen’s markets were closed, its streets empty. King Hizdahr had allowed the fighting pits to remain open, but the crowds were sparse29. The Meereenese had even begun to shun30 the Temple of the Graces, reportedly.
The slavers will find some way to blame Daenerys for that as well, Ser Barristan thought bitterly. He could almost hear them whispering—Great Masters, Sons of the Harpy, Yunkai’i, all telling one another that his queen was dead. Half of the city believed it, though as yet they did not have the courage to say such words aloud. But soon, I think.
Ser Barristan felt very tired, very old. Where have all the years gone? Of late, whenever he knelt to drink from a still pool, he saw a stranger’s face gazing up from the water’s depths. When had those crow’s-feet first appeared around his pale blue eyes? How long ago had his hair turned from sunlight into snow? Years ago, old man. Decades.
Yet it seemed like only yesterday that he had been raised to knighthood, after the tourney at King’s Landing. He could still recall the touch of King Aegon’s sword upon his shoulder, light as a maiden’s kiss. His words had caught in his throat when he spoke32 his vows33. At the feast that night he had eaten ribs34 of wild boar, prepared the Dornish way with dragon peppers, so hot they burned his mouth. Forty-seven years, and the taste still lingered in his memory, yet he could not have said what he had supped on ten days ago if all seven kingdoms had depended on it. Boiled dog, most like. Or some other foul35 dish that tasted no better.
Not for the first time, Selmy wondered at the strange fates that had brought him here. He was a knight of Westeros, a man of the stormlands and the Dornish marches; his place was in the Seven Kingdoms, not here upon the sweltering shores of Slaver’s Bay. I came to bring Daenerys home. Yet he had lost her, just as he had lost her father and her brother. Even Robert. I failed him too.
Perhaps Hizdahr was wiser than he knew. Ten years ago I would have sensed what Daenerys meant to do. Ten years ago I would have been quick enough to stop her. Instead he had stood befuddled36 as she leapt into the pit, shouting her name, then running uselessly after her across the scarlet37 sands. I am become old and slow. Small wonder Naharis mocked him as Ser Grandfather. Would Daario have moved more quickly if he had been beside the queen that day? Selmy thought he knew the answer to that, though it was not one he liked.
He had dreamed of it again last night: Belwas on his knees retching up bile and blood, Hizdahr urging on the dragonslayers, men and women fleeing in terror, fighting on the steps, climbing over one another, screaming and shouting. And Daenerys …
Her hair was aflame. She had the whip in her hand and she was shouting, then she was on the dragon’s back, flying. The sand that Drogon stirred as he took wing had stung Ser Barristan’s eyes, but through a veil of tears he had watched the beast fly from the pit, his great black wings slapping at the shoulders of the bronze warriors at the gates.
The rest he learned later. Beyond the gates had been a solid press of people. Maddened by the smell of dragon, horses below reared in terror, lashing39 out with iron-shod hooves. Food stalls and palanquins alike were overturned, men knocked down and trampled40. Spears were thrown, crossbows were fired. Some struck home. The dragon twisted violently in the air, wounds smoking, the girl clinging to his back. Then he loosed the fire.
It had taken the rest of the day and most of the night for the Brazen Beasts to gather up the corpses41. The final count was two hundred fourteen slain42, three times as many burned or wounded. Drogon was gone from the city by then, last seen high over the Skahazadhan, flying north. Of Daenerys Targaryen, no trace had been found. Some swore they saw her fall. Others insisted that the dragon had carried her off to devour43 her. They are wrong.
Ser Barristan knew no more of dragons than the tales every child hears, but he knew Targaryens. Daenerys had been riding that dragon, as Aegon had once ridden Balerion of old.
“She might be flying home,” he told himself, aloud.
“No,” murmured a soft voice behind him. “She would not do that, ser. She would not go home without us.”
Ser Barristan turned. “Missandei. Child. How long have you been standing44 there?”
“Not long. This one is sorry if she has disturbed you.” She hesitated. “Skahaz mo Kandaq wishes words with you.”
“The Shavepate? You spoke with him?” That was rash, rash. The enmity ran deep between Shakaz and the king, and the girl was clever enough to know that. Skahaz had been outspoken45 in his opposition46 to the queen’s marriage, a fact Hizdahr had not forgotten. “Is he here? In the pyramid?”
“When he wishes. He comes and goes, ser.”
Yes. He would. “Who told you he wants words with me?”
“A Brazen Beast. He wore an owl47 mask.”
He wore an owl mask when he spoke to you. By now he could be a jackal, a tiger, a sloth48. Ser Barristan had hated the masks from the start and never more than now. Honest men should never need to hide their faces. And the Shavepate …
What could he be thinking? After Hizdahr had given command of the Brazen Beasts to his cousin Marghaz zo Loraq, Skahaz had been named Warden49 of the River, with charge of all the ferries, dredges, and irrigation ditches along the Skahazadhan for fifty leagues, but the Shavepate had refused that ancient and honorable office, as Hizdahr called it, preferring to retire to the modest pyramid of Kandaq. Without the queen to protect him, he takes a great risk coming here. And if Ser Barristan were seen speaking with him, suspicion might fall on the knight as well.
He did not like the taste of this. It smelled of deceit, of whispers and lies and plots hatched in the dark, all the things he’d hoped to leave behind with the Spider and Lord Littlefinger and their ilk. Barristan Selmy was not a bookish man, but he had often glanced through the pages of the White Book, where the deeds of his predecessors50 had been recorded. Some had been heroes, some weaklings, knaves51, or cravens. Most were only men—quicker and stronger than most, more skilled with sword and shield, but still prey52 to pride, ambition, lust53, love, anger, jealousy54, greed for gold, hunger for power, and all the other failings that afflicted55 lesser mortals. The best of them overcame their flaws, did their duty, and died with their swords in their hands. The worst …
The worst were those who played the game of thrones. “Can you find this owl again?” he asked Missandei.
“This one can try, ser.”
“Tell him I will speak with … with our friend … after dark, by the stables.” The pyramid’s main doors were closed and barred at sunset. The stables would be quiet at that hour. “Make certain it is the same owl.” It would not serve to have the wrong Brazen Beast hear of this.
“This one understands.” Missandei turned as if to go, then paused a moment and said, “It is said that the Yunkai’i have ringed the city all about with scorpions56, to loose iron bolts into the sky should Drogon return.”
Ser Barristan had heard that too. “It is no simple thing to slay38 a dragon in the sky. In Westeros, many tried to bring down Aegon and his sisters. None succeeded.”
Missandei nodded. It was hard to tell if she was reassured57. “Do you think that they will find her, ser? The grasslands58 are so vast, and dragons leave no tracks across the sky.”
“Aggo and Rakharo are blood of her blood … and who knows the Dothraki sea better than Dothraki?” He squeezed her shoulder. “They will find her if she can be found.” If she still lives. There were other khals who prowled the grass, horselords with khalasars whose riders numbered in the tens of thousands. But the girl did not need to hear that. “You love her well, I know. I swear, I shall keep her safe.”
The words seemed to give the girl some comfort. Words are wind, though, Ser Barristan thought. How can I protect the queen when I am not with her?
Barristan Selmy had known many kings. He had been born during the troubled reign59 of Aegon the Unlikely, beloved by the common folk, had received his knighthood at his hands. Aegon’s son Jaehaerys had bestowed60 the white cloak on him when he was three-and-twenty, after he slew61 Maelys the Monstrous during the War of the Ninepenny Kings. In that same cloak he had stood beside the Iron Throne as madness consumed Jaehaerys’s son Aerys. Stood, and saw, and heard, and yet did nothing.
But no. That was not fair. He did his duty. Some nights, Ser Barristan wondered if he had not done that duty too well. He had sworn his vows before the eyes of gods and men, he could not in honor go against them … but the keeping of those vows had grown hard in the last years of King Aerys’s reign. He had seen things that it pained him to recall, and more than once he wondered how much of the blood was on his own hands. If he had not gone into Duskendale to rescue Aerys from Lord Darklyn’s dungeons62, the king might well have died there as Tywin Lannister sacked the town. Then Prince Rhaegar would have ascended63 the Iron Throne, mayhaps to heal the realm. Duskendale had been his finest hour, yet the memory tasted bitter on his tongue.
It was his failures that haunted him at night, though. Jaehaerys, Aerys, Robert. Three dead kings. Rhaegar, who would have been a finer king than any of them. Princess Elia and the children. Aegon just a babe, Rhaenys with her kitten. Dead, every one, yet he still lived, who had sworn to protect them. And now Daenerys, his bright shining child queen. She is not dead. I will not believe it.
Afternoon brought Ser Barristan a brief respite65 from his doubts. He spent it in the training hall on the pyramid’s third level, working with his boys, teaching them the art of sword and shield, horse and lance … and chivalry66, the code that made a knight more than any pit fighter. Daenerys would need protectors her own age about her after he was gone, and Ser Barristan was determined67 to give her such.
The lads he was instructing ranged in age from eight to twenty. He had started with more than sixty of them, but the training had proved too rigorous for many. Less than half that number now remained, but some showed great promise. With no king to guard, I will have more time to train them now, he realized as he walked from pair to pair, watching them go at one another with blunted swords and spears with rounded heads. Brave boys. Baseborn, aye, but some will make good knights68, and they love the queen. If not for her, all of them would have ended in the pits. King Hizdahr has his pit fighters, but Daenerys will have knights.
“Keep your shield up,” he called. “Show me your strokes. Together now. Low, high, low, low, high, low …”
Selmy took his simple supper out onto the queen’s terrace that night and ate it as the sun went down. Through the purple twilight69 he watched fires waken one by one in the great stepped pyramids, as the many-colored bricks of Meereen faded to grey and then to black. Shadows gathered in the streets and alleys70 below, making pools and rivers. In the dusk, the city seemed a tranquil71 place, even beautiful. That is pestilence72, not peace, the old knight told himself with his last sip73 of wine.
He did not wish to be conspicuous74, so when he was finished with his supper he changed out of his court clothes, trading the white cloak of the Queensguard for a hooded75 brown traveler’s cloak such as any common man might wear. He kept his sword and dagger76. This could still be some trap. He had little trust in Hizdahr and less in Reznak mo Reznak. The perfumed seneschal could well be part of this, trying to lure64 him into a secret meeting so he could sweep up him and Skahaz both and charge them with conspiring77 against the king. If the Shavepate speaks treason, he will leave me no choice but to arrest him. Hizdahr is my queen’s consort, however little I may like it. My duty is to him, not Skahaz.
Or was it?
The first duty of the Kingsguard was to defend the king from harm or threat. The white knights were sworn to obey the king’s commands as well, to keep his secrets, counsel him when counsel was requested and keep silent when it was not, serve his pleasure and defend his name and honor. Strictly78 speaking, it was purely79 the king’s choice whether or not to extend Kingsguard protection to others, even those of royal blood. Some kings thought it right and proper to dispatch Kingsguard to serve and defend their wives and children, siblings80, aunts, uncles, and cousins of greater and lesser degree, and occasionally even their lovers, mistresses, and bastards81. But others preferred to use household knights and men-at-arms for those purposes, whilst keeping their seven as their own personal guard, never far from their sides.
If the queen had commanded me to protect Hizdahr, I would have had no choice but to obey. But Daenerys Targaryen had never established a proper Queensguard even for herself nor issued any commands in respect to her consort. The world was simpler when I had a lord commander to decide such matters, Selmy reflected. Now I am the lord commander, and it is hard to know which path is right.
When at last he came to the bottom of the last flight of steps, he found himself all but alone amongst the torchlit corridors inside the pyramid’s massive brick walls. The great gates were closed and barred, as he had anticipated. Four Brazen Beasts stood guard outside those doors, four more within. It was those that the old knight encountered—big men, masked as boar, bear, vole, and manticore.
“All quiet, ser,” the bear told him.
“Keep it so.” It was not unknown for Ser Barristan to walk around at night, to make certain the pyramid was secure.
Deeper inside the pyramid, another four Brazen Beasts had been set to guard the iron doors outside the pit where Viserion and Rhaegal were chained. The light of the torches shimmered82 off their masks—ape, ram15, wolf, crocodile.
“Have they been fed?” Ser Barristan asked.
“Aye, ser,” replied the ape. “A sheep apiece.”
And how long will that suffice, I wonder? As the dragons grew, so did their appetites.
It was time to find the Shavepate. Ser Barristan made his way past the elephants and the queen’s silver mare, to the back of the stables. An ass20 nickered as he went by, and a few of the horses stirred at the light of his lantern. Elsewise all was dark and silent.
Then a shadow detached itself from inside an empty stall and became another Brazen Beast, clad in pleated black skirt, greaves, and muscled breastplate. “A cat?” said Barristan Selmy when he saw the brass83 beneath the hood31. When the Shavepate had commanded the Brazen Beasts, he had favored a serpent’s-head mask, imperious and frightening.
“Cats go everywhere,” replied the familiar voice of Skahaz mo Kandaq. “No one ever looks at them.”
“If Hizdahr should learn that you are here …”
“Who will tell him? Marghaz? Marghaz knows what I want him to know. The Beasts are still mine. Do not forget it.” The Shavepate’s voice was muffled84 by his mask, but Selmy could hear the anger in it. “I have the poisoner.”
“Who?”
“Hizdahr’s confectioner. His name would mean nothing to you. The man was just a catspaw. The Sons of the Harpy took his daughter and swore she would be returned unharmed once the queen was dead. Belwas and the dragon saved Daenerys. No one saved the girl. She was returned to her father in the black of night, in nine pieces. One for every year she lived.”
“Why?” Doubts gnawed85 at him. “The Sons had stopped their killing86. Hizdahr’s peace—”
“—is a sham87. Not at first, no. The Yunkai’i were afraid of our queen, of her Unsullied, of her dragons. This land has known dragons before. Yurkhaz zo Yunzak had read his histories, he knew. Hizdahr as well. Why not a peace? Daenerys wanted it, they could see that. Wanted it too much. She should have marched to Astapor.” Skahaz moved closer. “That was before. The pit changed all. Daenerys gone, Yurkhaz dead. In place of one old lion, a pack of jackals. Bloodbeard … that one has no taste for peace. And there is more. Worse. Volantis has launched its fleet against us.”
“Volantis.” Selmy’s sword hand tingled88. We made a peace with Yunkai. Not with Volantis. “You are certain?”
“Certain. The Wise Masters know. So do their friends. The Harpy, Reznak, Hizdahr. This king will open the city gates to the Volantenes when they arrive. All those Daenerys freed will be enslaved again. Even some who were never slaves will be fitted for chains. You may end your days in a fighting pit, old man. Khrazz will eat your heart.”
His head was pounding. “Daenerys must be told.”
“Find her first.” Skahaz grasped his forearm. His fingers felt like iron. “We cannot wait for her. I have spoken with the Free Brothers, the Mother’s Men, the Stalwart Shields. They have no trust in Loraq. We must break the Yunkai’i. But we need the Unsullied. Grey Worm will listen to you. Speak to him.”
“To what end?” He is speaking treason. Conspiracy89.
“Life.” The Shavepate’s eyes were black pools behind the brazen cat mask. “We must strike before the Volantenes arrive. Break the siege, kill the slaver lords, turn their sellswords. The Yunkai’i do not expect an attack. I have spies in their camps. There’s sickness, they say, worse every day. Discipline has gone to rot. The lords are drunk more oft than not, gorging90 themselves at feasts, telling each other of the riches they’ll divide when Meereen falls, squabbling over primacy. Bloodbeard and the Tattered91 Prince despise each other. No one expects a fight. Not now. Hizdahr’s peace has lulled92 us to sleep, they believe.”
“Daenerys signed that peace,” Ser Barristan said. “It is not for us to break it without her leave.”
“And if she is dead?” demanded Skahaz. “What then, ser? I say she would want us to protect her city. Her children.”
Her children were the freedmen. Mhysa, they called her, all those whose chains she broke. “Mother.” The Shavepate was not wrong. Daenerys would want her children protected. “What of Hizdahr? He is still her consort. Her king. Her husband.”
“Her poisoner.”
Is he? “Where is your proof?”
“The crown he wears is proof enough. The throne he sits. Open your eyes, old man. That is all he needed from Daenerys, all he ever wanted. Once he had it, why share the rule?”
Why indeed? It had been so hot down in the pit. He could still see the air shimmering93 above the scarlet sands, smell the blood spilling from the men who’d died for their amusement. And he could still hear Hizdahr, urging his queen to try the honeyed locusts. Those are very tasty … sweet and hot … yet he never touched so much as one himself … Selmy rubbed his temple. I swore no vows to Hizdahr zo Loraq. And if I had, he has cast me aside, just as Joffrey did. “This … this confectioner, I want to question him myself. Alone.”
“Is it that way?” The Shavepate crossed his arms against his chest. “Done, then. Question him as you like.”
“If … if what he has to say convinces me … if I join with you in this, this … I would require your word that no harm would come to Hizdahr zo Loraq until … unless … it can be proved that he had some part in this.”
“Why do you care so much for Hizdahr, old man? If he is not the Harpy, he is the Harpy’s firstborn son.”
“All I know for certain is that he is the queen’s consort. I want your word on this, or I swear, I shall oppose you.”
Skahaz’s smile was savage94. “My word, then. No harm to Hizdahr till his guilt95 is proved. But when we have the proof, I mean to kill him with my own hands. I want to pull his entrails out and show them to him before I let him die.”
No, the old knight thought. If Hizdahr conspired96 at my queen’s death, I will see to him myself, but his death will be swift and clean. The gods of Westeros were far away, yet Ser Barristan Selmy paused for a moment to say a silent prayer, asking the Crone to light his way to wisdom. For the children, he told himself. For the city. For my queen.
“I will talk to Grey Worm,” he said.
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locusts
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| n.蝗虫( locust的名词复数 )；贪吃的人；破坏者；槐树 | |
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withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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herald
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| vt.预示...的来临，预告，宣布，欢迎 | |
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blot
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| vt.弄脏（用吸墨纸）吸干；n.污点，污渍 | |
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mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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consort
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| v.相伴；结交 | |
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delegation
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| n.代表团；派遣 | |
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withdrawal
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| n.取回，提款；撤退，撤军；收回，撤销 | |
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warriors
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| 武士，勇士，战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
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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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brazen
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| adj.厚脸皮的，无耻的，坚硬的 | |
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loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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betokened
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| v.预示，表示( betoken的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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ram
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| (random access memory)随机存取存储器 | |
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chambers
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| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
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attest
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| vt.证明，证实；表明 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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suite
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| n.一套(家具)；套房；随从人员 | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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apex
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| n.顶点，最高点 | |
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22
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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suffocating
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| a.使人窒息的 | |
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lesser
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| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
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greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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galloping
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| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
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sparse
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| adj.稀疏的，稀稀落落的，薄的 | |
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30
shun
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| vt.避开，回避，避免 | |
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hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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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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vows
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| 誓言( vow的名词复数 )； 郑重宣布，许愿 | |
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ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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befuddled
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| adj.迷糊的，糊涂的v.使烂醉( befuddle的过去式和过去分词 )；使迷惑不解 | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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slay
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| v.杀死，宰杀，杀戮 | |
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lashing
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| n.鞭打；痛斥；大量；许多v.鞭打( lash的现在分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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trampled
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| 踩( trample的过去式和过去分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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corpses
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| n.死尸，尸体( corpse的名词复数 ) | |
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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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devour
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| v.吞没；贪婪地注视或谛听，贪读；使着迷 | |
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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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outspoken
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| adj.直言无讳的，坦率的，坦白无隐的 | |
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opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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owl
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| n.猫头鹰，枭 | |
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sloth
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| n.[动]树懒；懒惰，懒散 | |
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warden
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| n.监察员，监狱长，看守人，监护人 | |
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predecessors
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| n.前任( predecessor的名词复数 )；前辈；（被取代的）原有事物；前身 | |
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knaves
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| n.恶棍，无赖( knave的名词复数 )；（纸牌中的）杰克 | |
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prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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lust
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| n.性(淫)欲；渴(欲)望；vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
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jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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afflicted
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| 使受痛苦，折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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scorpions
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| n.蝎子( scorpion的名词复数 ) | |
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reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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grasslands
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| n.草原，牧场( grassland的名词复数 ) | |
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reign
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| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
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bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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slew
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| v.（使）旋转；n.大量，许多 | |
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dungeons
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| n.地牢( dungeon的名词复数 ) | |
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ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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lure
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| n.吸引人的东西，诱惑物；vt.引诱，吸引 | |
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respite
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| n.休息，中止，暂缓 | |
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66
chivalry
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| n.骑士气概，侠义；（男人）对女人彬彬有礼，献殷勤 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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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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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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alleys
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| 胡同，小巷( alley的名词复数 )； 小径 | |
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tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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pestilence
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| n.瘟疫 | |
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73
sip
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| v.小口地喝，抿，呷；n.一小口的量 | |
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conspicuous
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| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
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hooded
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| adj.戴头巾的；有罩盖的；颈部因肋骨运动而膨胀的 | |
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76
dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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77
conspiring
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| 密谋( conspire的现在分词 )； 搞阴谋； （事件等）巧合； 共同导致 | |
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78
strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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80
siblings
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| n.兄弟，姐妹( sibling的名词复数 ) | |
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81
bastards
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| 私生子( bastard的名词复数 )； 坏蛋； 讨厌的事物； 麻烦事 （认为别人走运或不幸时说）家伙 | |
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82
shimmered
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| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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83
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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84
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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85
gnawed
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| 咬( gnaw的过去式和过去分词 )； （长时间） 折磨某人； （使）苦恼； （长时间）危害某事物 | |
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86
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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sham
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| n./adj.假冒(的)，虚伪(的) | |
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88
tingled
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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89
conspiracy
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| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
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90
gorging
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| v.（用食物把自己）塞饱，填饱( gorge的现在分词 )；作呕 | |
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91
tattered
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| adj.破旧的，衣衫破的 | |
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92
lulled
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| vt.使镇静，使安静（lull的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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93
shimmering
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| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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94
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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95
guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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96
conspired
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| 密谋( conspire的过去式和过去分词 )； 搞阴谋； （事件等）巧合； 共同导致 | |
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