[Read what you love, care for your heart; master English, open your third eye]
Catelyn saw a shadow sneak in through the open door behind the man. Then there was a low cry, not a roar, just a whisper of intimidation. But the man must have heard something, for just as the wolf flew up, he just turned around. They fell at the same time and fell to Catelyn on the ground. The wolf bit right under the man's chin. The man had just let out a half-scream when the giant wolf jerked his head back and pulled his half-cut throat off.
The man's blood sprayed on Catelyn's face like it was raining warmly. 】
【Catelyn saw the shadow slip through the open door behind him. There was a low rumble, less than a snarl, the merest whisper of a threat, but he must have heard something, because he started to turn just as the wolf made its leap. They went down together, half sprawled over Catelyn where she’d fallen. The wolf had him under the jaw. The man’s shriek lasted less than a second before the beast wrenched back its head, taking out half his throat.
His blood felt like warm rain as it sprayed across her face.】
【English Tips: About Understanding People's Names and Place Names in English】
One of the challenges english learners face in their learning process is to understand, pronounce, and remember personal and place names in English. My advice to my friends is: in this A Song of Ice and Fire series, I don't translate all the names, so let's see if you can try to spell out the names yourself and then understand and remember the names. An important lesson of mine is: don't translate names into Chinese. Now the feedback is that remembering English names is no longer a problem.
All names in English are phonetic transcripts of the pronunciation of names. You can spell it out, and you basically know its spelling letters. If you can remember the pronunciation of phonics, you will basically remember the spelling of letters. The extra homework you need to do is to memorize as much as possible the more standardized way of reading it in English by listening and reading.
Since Chinese text is not a phonetic record of sounds, the consequence of translating English names into Chinese is that, on the one hand, Chinese cannot accurately record the pronunciation of English, and on the other hand, the pronunciation of English names is separated from the spelling of pronunciation. As a result, we can neither remember Chinese translations of foreign names (e.g., Fyodor Dostoevsky, spelled Fyodor Dostoyevsky) nor associate them with their English spellings.
There was a time when many people debated whether the Chinese translation of the American movie "Titanic" was a good translation of "Titanic" or a good translation of "Titanic" or a good translation of "Titanic". Many literati complained of different opinions. What most people don't know is that the essence of the difference between these two translations lies in the difference between Cantonese and Mandarin, and has little to do with English. In Cantonese, the sound "tai" is rarely pronounced.
There are also experts in China calling for the unification of Chinese translations of foreign names. My advice to English learners is that the key to remembering English names is to forget the Chinese translations of those names. Remember the pronunciation with English spelling, try the spelling of English names with the pronunciation you remember. Someone asked, what should I do if my phonics pronunciation is not accurate? The best thing to do is to watch the spelling and listen to the standardized pronunciation. However, even if your pronunciation is not accurate, it must be much more accurate than the canonical Chinese translation. If you don't believe it, try reading john and tom pronunciation (Chinese the standard translation is "John" and "Tom")
【Translated by Dr. Liu】
A Song of Ice and Fire series – the first Game of Thrones: Catelyn
It's been eight days since Ned left Winterfell with his daughters. That night, Dr. Luwin met With an oil lamp and a ledger in Bran's hospital room. "It's time for us to go through the accounts, ma'am," he said. "You must be wondering how much this king's visit cost us."
Catelyn looked at Bran lying on the bed, and she pulled Bran's hair from her forehead to the back of her head. She suddenly realized that Bran's hair had grown very long. It was time for her to cut Bran's hair. "I don't need to look at the numbers, Dr. Luwin," she said to the doctor, her gaze never leaving Bran for a moment. "I know how much this visit cost us. Take the accounts away. ”
"Madame, the king's gang really ate a lot of us. We've got to replenish our inventory, we've got to get in time—"
Catelyn interrupted him, "I said, take the accounts away. The housekeeper will take care of these things. ”
"We don't have a butler anymore," Dr. Luwin reminded her. The Doctor was sometimes really like a little gray mouse, unforgiving, Catelyn thought to himself. "Poole has also gone to the South to help Lord Eddard take care of his new home in the Royal City."
Catelyn nodded absently. "Oh, yes, I remember." Bran looked so pale. Catelyn didn't know if he should move his bed under the window so he could get the morning sun.
Dr. Luwin put the lamp in a small compartment by the door, and he dialed the wick. "Madam, there are several other matters that need to be handled immediately by you. In addition to a new butler, we need a new Guard Chief to take Jory's place, and a new groom—"
Catelyn's eyes jerked as she stared at Luwin. "Groom?" Her voice sounded like a whiplash.
The Doctor was startled. "Yes, ma'am. Hullen also went south with lord Eddard, so—"
"Luwin, my son is lying here unable to move, his life is almost gone, and you want to discuss the new groom with me?" Do you think I care about the stables? Do you think it has to do with me for a dime? If that woke up Bran, you'd let me kill every horse in Winterfell with my own hands, and I'd be willing, you know? Do you understand? ”
Luwin lowered his head. "Yes, ma'am, but the matter of arranging manpower—"
"I'll arrange it," Robb's voice said.
Catelyn hadn't heard when Robb had come in, but now Robb was standing in the doorway watching her. She suddenly felt a pang of shame, and she realized that she had been shouting all the time. What's wrong with her? She was probably too tired, and she kept having headaches these days.
Luwin turned her gaze from Catelyn to her son. "I've prepared a list of people we can consider filling the vacancies," he said as he drew a piece of paper from his cuff and handed it to Robb.
Her son went through the list. Catelyn could tell that he had just come in from outside the castle. His cheeks were frozen red, and his hair was long and erect by the wind. "These people are good," he said. "We'll talk about them tomorrow." He returned the list to the Doctor.
"Okay, sir." The piece of paper disappeared into the Doctor's cuff again.
"Now you can go," Robb said. Dr. Luwin bowed, then left. Robb closed the door and turned to face his mother. Catelyn saw that Robb was now carrying a sword with him. "Mom, what are you doing?"
Catelyn had always felt that Robb looked like himself. Like Bran, Rickon, and Sansa, he inherited the Tully family's skin color and hair color, with brownish red hair and blue eyes. But now, for the first time, she saw the shadow of Eddard Stark on Robb's face, a kind of seriousness and fortitude that only the North has. "What am I doing?" She repeated Robb's words, not understanding what he meant. "How can you ask me that? What do you think I'm doing? I'm taking care of your brother. I'm taking care of Bran. ”
"You call this care?" You haven't left this room since Bran was injured. Even on the day your father and sisters set out for the South, you didn't go to the gate to say goodbye. ”
"I'm here to say goodbye to them, and I watched them leave on horseback through that window." Katelyn had begged Ned not to go, and now he couldn't go to the South, especially after this had happened. Now that everything has changed, can't Ned see it? She said nothing worked. Ned told Catelyn that he had no choice. However, he left, and that was his choice.
"I can't leave him, I can't leave him for a moment, because any moment could be the last moment of his life. I have to be with him if... If. Catelyn held Bran's feeble hand, and she wrapped Bran's fingers between her fingers. Bran was so fragile and emaciated now that his hands had lost any strength, but Catelyn could still feel his warm life through Bran's skin.
Robb's voice softened. "He's not going to die, Mom. Dr. Luwin said the most dangerous phase had passed. ”
"But what if Dr. Luwin is wrong?" What if I'm not there for Bran when he needs me? ”
"Rickon needs you too," Robb snapped. "He was only three years old, and he had no idea what had happened. He thought everyone had abandoned him, so he ran around after me all day, grabbing my legs and crying. I really don't know what to do with him. "Robb paused for a moment as he bit his lower lip, a movement he used to do as a child." Mom, I need you too. I've tried very hard, but I can't... I can't do it alone. He was suddenly agitated, and he couldn't go on. Catelyn remembered that he was only 14 years old. She tried to get up and walk over to Robb, but Bran was still holding her hand, and she couldn't move.
Outside the tower, a wolf began to howl. Catelyn started shaking, but only for a moment.
"It's Bran's wolf cub." As Robb spoke, he opened the window and let the night air flow into the airtight tower house. The howl became louder and louder. It was a cold and lonely cry, a cry full of sorrow and despair.
"Don't open the window," Catelyn told Robb, "Bran needs to stay in a warm place." ”
"He needs to hear those wolves," Robb said. Somewhere at Winterfell Castle, the second wolf began to respond to the first wolf's cry. Then came the voice of the third wolf, which was even closer. "It's the long-haired dog and the gray wind," said Robb, listening to their repeated cries, "and if you listen carefully, you can distinguish their voices." ”
Catelyn trembled, both in sadness, cold, and in the howl of the giant wolf. How many nights had the howling, the cold wind, and the gray empty castle never stopped, never changed, only her son lay there in a terrible way, her most likable child, her most gentle, her most laughing, her favorite climbing, dreaming of one day becoming a knight's son Bran, and all this was now gone from her, and she could no longer hear Bran's laughter. Catelyn sobbed and broke his hand away from Bran's, covering his ears so that he wouldn't hear those terrible howls. "Shut them up!" She shouted, "I can't stand it, let them shut up, let them shut up, if it doesn't work, you can kill them, as long as you can make them shut up!" ”
Catelyn can't remember when she fell to the ground, but she was on the ground at the moment, and Robb was holding her with his strong arm. "Don't be afraid, Mom. Those wolves would never hurt Bran. "He helped Catelyn to her narrow bed in the corner of the house and lay down." "Close your eyes," Robb said softly. "Rest. Dr. Luwin told me that you had hardly slept since Bran fell. ”
"I can't sleep," catelyn cried, "O gods, forgive me, but I can't sleep, Robb, what if he dies while I'm asleep, what if he dies, what if he dies..." The wolf was still howling. Catelyn screamed, and she covered her ears again. "Oh my God, close the window!"
"If you promise me that you'll sleep for a while, I'll shut up." Robb went to the window, but as soon as he reached out to close it, another cry was added to the wailing of the giant wolves. "The dogs are barking too," Robb said as he listened, "and all the dogs are barking." They've never been like this before..." Catelyn heard Robb hold his breath. When she looked up at Robb, Robb's face looked extremely pale under the oil lamp. "It's on fire," he whispered.
It caught fire, and the word flashed through Catelyn's mind, and then she understood what was going on, and she remembered Bran! "Help me," she said anxiously as she sat up, "help me carry Bran out." ”
Robb didn't seem to hear her, "It's the library tower that's on fire," he added.
Now, Catelyn could see a flickering red glow through the open window. She breathed a sigh of relief. Bran was not in danger. The library was on the opposite side of the outer wall of their tower, and the fire could not burn here. "Thank goodness," she whispered to herself.
Robb looked at Catelyn with a strange look, as if she had gone mad. "Mom, stay here. I'll be back as soon as the fire goes out. With that, he ran out. Catelyn heard Robb shouting at the guards outside the house and heard them rush down together, jumping two or three steps at a time.
Outside the castle, the courtyard was full of people "on fire!" There were shouts, screams, running footsteps, the hissing of frightened horses, and the barking of dogs everywhere in the castle. As Catelyn listened to the cacophony, she realized again that the wolf howl had stopped. The wolves had quieted down.
Catelyn silently recited words of thanks to the God of The Seven Faces in his heart as he walked to the window. On the other side of the façade, long flames drifted out of the library window. Catelyn watched the smoke rise into the sky, feeling sorry that all the books the Stark family had collected for centuries were now burned to the ground. Then she closed the window.
When she turned around from the window, she noticed that there was another person in the room.
"You shouldn't be here," the man muttered in a nonchalant manner, "there should be no one here." ”
He was a short, dirty man, dressed in a dirty brown dress, and the sour smell of a horse was still on his body. Catelyn knew all the people who worked in the castle stables, and this man was certainly not the groom in the stables. He had a gaunt look, his blond hair hunched over his head, and a pair of light-colored eyes embedded deep in his skinny face. He had a dagger in his hand.
Catelyn looked at the dagger, then at Bran again. "No," she said. Her words were stuck in her throat, and her voice was too low to be heard.
The man must have heard What Catelyn said, "It's for his own good," he said, "he's long dead." ”
"No," Catelyn said again, recovering from her shock, her voice louder now. "No, you can't do that." She jerked against the window and began to shout for help, but the man moved faster than she thought. He covered her mouth with one hand, pushed her head back, and then raised the dagger to her throat with the other. The stench on his body was disgusting.
Catelyn raised her hands, and with all her strength she grabbed the blade and pushed the dagger away from her throat. She heard the man cursing in her ear. Her fingers were covered with blood and she kept slipping, but she just wouldn't let go of the dagger. The hand covering her mouth was even harder, and she couldn't breathe. Catelyn twisted his head to the side and bit a piece of his flesh with his teeth. She bit the man's palm hard. The man cried out in pain. Catelyn clenched his teeth and tore hard. The man suddenly let go of his hand. Catelyn's mouth was full of the taste of the man's blood. She took a deep breath and screamed again. That person
Grabbing Catelyn by the hair and pushing her away from him, Catelyn stumbled and fell to the ground. Then the man stood in front of her again, shaking and gasping for breath. His right hand was still clutching the dagger tightly, and the dagger was covered with blood. "You shouldn't be here," the man repeated stupidly.
Catelyn saw a shadow sneak in through the open door behind the man. Then there was a low cry, not a roar, just a whisper of intimidation. But the man must have heard something, for just as the wolf flew up, he just turned around. They fell at the same time and fell to Catelyn on the ground. The wolf bit right under the man's chin. The man had just let out a half-scream, and then the giant wolf jerked his head back and pulled his half-cut throat off.
The man's blood sprayed on Catelyn's face like it was raining warmly.
The giant wolf looked at Catelyn. Its jaw was red and wet, and its eyes shone golden in the dark room. Catelyn realized that this was Bran's wolf cub, it must be it. "Thank you," Catelyn whispered, her voice weak and thin. She trembled and held out her hand. The giant wolf approached her, sniffed her fingers, and licked the blood with its wet and rough tongue. When it had licked the blood from Catelyn's hand clean, it quietly turned around, jumped onto Bran's bed, and lay down beside him. Catelyn began to laugh hysterically.
When Robb, Dr. Luwin, and Sir Rodrik stormed into the house with half of the guards at Winterfell Castle, they saw the scene. When Catelyn finally stopped laughing, the people wrapped her up in thick blankets and led her back to her own room at The Castle at the Grand Gate. The old nurse undressed her, helped her into the hot tub, and wiped the blood off her body with a towel.
After that, Dr. Luwin came to bandage her wound. The wound on her finger was so deep that it almost hurt her bones, her scalp was worn, and there was still blood in one place where the man had pulled out her hair. The Doctor told her that it would hurt more in a moment and asked her to drink some poppy milk to help her fall asleep.
Finally, she closed her eyes.
When she opened her eyes again, people told her she had slept for a full four days. Catelyn nodded and sat up on the bed. Everything that had happened since Bran fell down was now like a nightmare for her, a nightmare full of blood and sadness, and yet the pain on her hand was telling her that it was all true. She felt unusually weak and top-heavy, but her thoughts were unusually firm, as if she had finally unloaded a huge burden on her.
"Bring me some bread and honey," she said to the servant, "and then send a message to Dr. Luwin, telling him that it was time for me to change the bandages." The servants looked at her with a look of surprise, and then ran to do what she had commanded.
Catelyn remembered what she had looked before, and she was ashamed of it. She let everyone down, including her children, her husband, and her family. This kind of thing will never happen again. She wanted these northerners to see how strong the Tully family from Riverrun Castle would be.
Her meal had not yet been served, but Robb came first. Along with him were Sir Rodrik Cassel and her husband's ward, Theon Greyjoy, followed by Hallis Mollen, a burly guard with a square brown beard. Robb told her that he was the newly appointed Head of the Guard. Catelyn noticed that her son was wearing a soft leather top with chain armor over it, and a sword hanging from his waist.
"Did you find out who that person was?" Catelyn asked them.
"No one knows what his name is," replied Hallis Mollen, "and he is not a native of Winterfell, Madame, but it has been said that they had seen this man wandering around the castle a few weeks before. ”
"So he might be a man under the king," she said, "or someone from the Lannister family." It is very likely that he secretly stayed behind after the others had left. ”
"It's possible," said Hallis, "that winterfell has been full of these outliers lately, and it's hard to tell which side he belongs to." ”
Greyjoy then said, "He's been hiding in your stables, and you can smell him." ”
"So, how could no one notice him?" Catelyn asked sharply.
Hallis Mollen looked ashamed, "Lord Eddard, they rode south to the horses and closed themselves on one side of the stables, and on the other side were the horses we had given to the Night Guard Camp. The stables between the two sides were largely empty. It's not hard to hide inside without being discovered by the groom. Hodor may have seen him, and it is said that the child has been acting strangely lately, but a simple-minded person like him..." Hallis shook his head.
"We did find his place to sleep," Robb interjected, "and he hid a leather bag under a straw mattress with 90 silver coins in it." ”
"So my son's life is worth some money," Catelyn said sarcastically.
Hallis Mollen looked at Catelyn with a puzzled look on his face, "With all due respect, Ma'am, did you mean that he came here to assassinate your son?" ”
Greyjoy was also suspicious, "That man is sick." ”
"He came for Bran," Catelyn said, "and he kept muttering that I shouldn't be in that place." He set fire to the library, thinking I would run out to fight the fire and take all the guards with him. If I hadn't been so sad as crazy, his plan would have worked. ”
"Why would anyone want to assassinate Bran?" Robb said. "Oh my God, he's just a little kid, a unconscious kid with no chicken in his hands..."
Catelyn looked at her eldest son with a challenging look, "If you're going to rule the North, you have to think these things through, Robb. Now you answer your question yourself, why would anyone want to assassinate a comatose child?
Before Robb could answer, the servants returned with a plate of food that had just been prepared from the kitchen. That was far more than Catelyn had asked for: hot bread, butter, honey, and blackberry jam, a slice of bacon and a boiled egg, a small piece of cheese and a pot of mint tea. Then Dr. Luwin came.
"How is my son now, Doctor?" Catelyn asked, generally looking at all the food, and it was only then that she realized that she had no appetite.
Dr. Luwin lowered his eyes. "He's still the same, ma'am."
Catelyn had anticipated this answer, exactly as she had thought. Her hand twitched with pain, as if the blade of a dagger was still piercing deep inside her. She sent the servants away, then turned to look at Rob, "Do you have the answer?" ”
"There was fear that Bran would wake up," Robb said, "for fear of what he might say or do, of what he knew." ”
Catelyn was proud of her son. "The staff were very friendly and helpful." She turned to the newly appointed Head of the Guard. "We have to keep Bran safe. Since there is one Assassin, there may be other Assassins. ”
"Madam, how many guards do you need?" Hallis asked.
"As long as Lord Eddard hasn't returned, my son is winterfell's owner," Catelyn told Hallis.
Robb stood a little straighter, "All day long one person was arranged to be in the ward, one person outside the door, and two other people at the landing." No one is allowed to see Bran without my permission or my mother's permission. ”
"Do as you are told, my lord."
"Arrange it now," Catelyn suggested.
"Also, let his wolf stay in the room with him," Robb added.
"Yes," Catelyn said, and then she repeated again: "Yes." ”
Hallis Mollen bowed and left the room.
Sir Rodrick waited until the captain of the guard was gone and asked, "Lady Stark, have you noticed the assassin's dagger?" ”
"The circumstances didn't allow me to examine it carefully, but I can guarantee that it was very sharp," Catelyn replied with a sarcastic laugh, "why are you asking that?" ”
"We found this dagger in the hands of that villain. In my opinion, this dagger is too delicate for such a guy, so I carefully studied this dagger. Its blade is made of Valyrian City steel, and its hilt is made of keel. A weapon like this should not appear in the hands of a person of this status. Someone must have given him the dagger. ”
Catelyn nodded thoughtfully, "Robb, close the door. ”
Robb looked at his mother strangely, but he did so.
"What I'm going to tell you must never go outside this room," Catelyn said to them, "and I need you to swear to me about it." Maybe only part of my suspicions are true, but I think Ned and my daughters are already involved in a deadly danger, and a single careless word could cost them their lives. ”
"Lord Eddard is like my second father to me," said Theon Greyjoy, "and I swear to you." ”
"I swear to you," Dr. Luwin said.
"I swear too, madame," sir Rodrick echoed.
Catelyn looked at her son, "What about you, Robb?" ”
Robb nodded in agreement.
"My sister Lysa believes that it was the Lannister family who murdered her husband, Lord Arryn, the Prime Minister of the King," Catelyn told them. "I remember now that on the day Bran fell, Jaime Lannister did not take part in the king's hunt. He was staying in the castle. "The room was dead quiet." I don't think Bran fell off that watchtower," Catelyn said in a silence. "I think he was pushed down."
Everyone's face was a look of obvious shock. "Madam, this idea is terrible," rodrik Cassel said. "Even for the king-killer, he doesn't have the guts to murder an innocent child."
"Oh, is it?" Theon Grey asked, "I'm not sure. ”
"The arrogance and ambition of the Lannister family is endless." Catelyn said.
"This child has never lost his hand before," said Dr. Luwin thoughtfully, "and he is familiar with every stone in Winterfell Castle. ”
"Oh my God," Robb cursed, his young face looking evil with anger, "if that's the case, he's going to have to pay his debts in blood." He drew his sword and waved it in the air, "I'm going to kill him with my own hands!" ”
Sir Rodrick was furious at Robb, "Put away your sword!" The Lannister family is now a hundred miles away. Don't pull out your sword unless you really intend to use it. How many times do I have to say to you, silly kid? ”
Robb, ashamed, slipped his sword back into its scabbard, and suddenly he was a child again. Catelyn said to Sir Rodrick, "I see that my son is wearing a real sword now. ”
Old martial artist Rodrick replied, "I think it's time." ”
Robb looked nervously at his mother. "It's long overdue," she said. "Winterfell may soon need to use all of its swords, preferably not made of wood."
Theon Greyjoy put his hand on the hilt of his sword and said, "Madam, if this day comes, our family will owe your family a great debt." ”
Dr. Luwin tugged at his chain collar, which hurt his neck. "What we have now is just inference. The person we want to accuse is the Queen's biological brother. She's not going to give up. We must have evidence, otherwise we would better never mention it. ”
"The evidence you want is in this dagger," said Sir Rodrick, "and a good dagger like this is not going to be recognized by no one." ”
Catelyn realized that there was only one place where the truth about the dagger could be found. "We must send someone to the royal city."
"I'll go," Robb said.
"No," Catelyn said to Robb. "This is where you are needed. Winterfell City must have the Talent of the Stark family. She looked at Sir Rodrick, who had a white beard, then at Dr. Luwin, who was dressed in a gray robe, and then at grey, dark, and unruly Greyjoy. Who should be sent? Who will they believe? Then she knew the answer. Catelyn struggled to lift the blanket, her bandaged fingers stiff and clumsy like stones. She got out of bed. "I have to go myself."
"Madame," said Dr. Luwin, "is it wise to do so?" The people of the Lannister family will surely be suspicious of your arrival. ”
"What about Bran?" Robb asked. The poor boy now looked completely confused. "You don't want to leave him alone."
"What I could do for Bran, I've done it," Catelyn said as he put an injured hand on his arm. "His life and death are now in the hands of the gods and Dr. Luwin. Robb, you yourself have reminded me that I have other children to consider taking care of. ”
"You need a very strong guard, madame," Theon said.
"I'll send Hal to lead a guard to protect you," Robb said.
"No," catelyn said, "a large contingent of men and horses will attract unwanted attention." I didn't want the Lannisters to know that I had come to the Royal City. ”
Sir Rodrick protested, "Madame, at least let me accompany you." It is dangerous for a woman to walk alone on the King's Road. ”
Catelyn replied, "I'm not going to take the King's Road. She thought again, then nodded in agreement. Two people on horseback are not necessarily slower than one man on horseback, but they must be much faster than a large group of men and horses pulling carriages and RVs. I welcome you on board, Sir Rodrick. We would follow white knife all the way to the sea and then rent a boat at white port. With the help of good horses and downwind, we were able to get to the royal city before Ned and the Lannister family. She thought to herself, wait until then, let's take another step and look at it.
【Original English】
A Song of Ice and Fire----Book One: Game of Thrones
Catelyn
Ned and the girls were eight days gone when Maester Luwin came to her one night in Bran’s sickroom, carrying a reading lamp and the books of account. “It is past time that we reviewed the figures, my lady,” he said. “You’ll want to know how much this royal visit cost us.”
Catelyn looked at Bran in his sickbed and brushed his hair back off his forehead. It had grown very long, she realized. She would have to cut it soon. “I have no need to look at figures, Maester Luwin,” she told him, never taking her eyes from Bran. “I know what the visit cost us. Take the books away.”
“My lady, the king’s party had healthy appetites. We must replenish our stores before-“ She cut him off. “I said, take the books away. The steward will attend to our needs.”
“We have no steward,” Maester Luwin reminded her. Like a little grey rat, she thought, he would not let go. “Poole went south to establish Lord Eddard’s household at King’s Landing.”
Catelyn nodded absently. “Oh, yes. I remember.” Bran looked so pale. She wondered whether they might move his bed under the window, so he could get the morning sun.
Maester Luwin set the lamp in a niche by the door and fiddled with its wick. “There are several appointments that require your immediate attention, my lady. Besides the steward, we need a captain of the guards to fill Jory’s place, a new master of horse-“
Her eyes snapped around and found him. “A master of horse?” Her voice was a whip. The maester was shaken. “Yes, my lady. Hullen rode south with Lord Eddard, so-”
“My son lies here broken and dying, Luwin, and you wish to discuss a new master of horse? Do you think I care what happens in the stables? Do you think it matters to me one whit? I would gladly butcher every horse in Winterfell with my own hands if it would open Bran’s eyes, do you understand that? Do you?”
He bowed his head. “Yes, my lady, but the appointments-“ “I’ll make the appointments,” Robb said.
Catelyn had not heard him enter, but there he stood in the doorway, looking at her. She had been shouting, she realized with a sudden flush of shame. What was happening to her? She was so tired, and her head hurt all the time.
Maester Luwin looked from Catelyn to her son. “I have prepared a list of those we might wish to consider for the vacant offices,” he said, offering Robb a paper plucked from his sleeve.
Her son glanced at the names. He had come from outside, Catelyn saw; his cheeks were red from the cold, his hair shaggy and windblown. “Good men,” he said. “We’ll talk about them tomorrow.” He handed back the list of names.
“Very good, my lord.” The paper vanished into his sleeve.
“Leave us now,” Robb said. Maester Luwin bowed and departed. Robb closed the door behind him and turned to her. He was wearing a sword, she saw. “Mother, what are you doing?”
Catelyn had always thought Robb looked like her; like Bran and Rickon and Sansa, he had the Tully coloring, the auburn hair, the blue eyes. Yet now for the first time she saw something of Eddard Stark in his face, something as stern and hard as the north. “What am I doing?” she echoed, puzzled. “How can you ask that? What do you imagine I’m doing? I am taking care of your brother. I am taking care of Bran.”
“Is that what you call it? You haven’t left this room since Bran was hurt. You didn’t even come to the gate when Father and the girls went south.”
“I said my farewells to them here, and watched them ride out from that window.” She had begged Ned not to go, not now, not after what had happened; everything had changed now, couldn’t he see that? It was no use. He had no choice, he had told her, and then he left, choosing. “I can’t leave him, even for a moment, not when any moment could be his last. I have to be with him, if ... if.” She took her son’s limp hand, sliding his fingers through her own. He was so frail and thin, with no strength left in his hand, but she could still feel the warmth of life through his skin.
Robb’s voice softened. “He’s not going to die, Mother. Maester Luwin says the time of greatest danger has passed.”
“And what if Maester Luwin is wrong? What if Bran needs me and I’m not here?”
“Rickon needs you,” Robb said sharply. “He’s only three, he doesn’t understand what’s happening. He thinks everyone has deserted him, so he follows me around all day, clutching my leg and crying. I don’t know what to do with him.” He paused a moment, chewing on his lower lip the way he’d done when he was little. “Mother, I need you too. I’m trying but I can’t . . . I can’t do it all by myself.” His voice broke with sudden emotion, and Catelyn remembered that he was only fourteen. She wanted to get up and go to him, but Bran was still holding her hand and she could not move.
Outside the tower, a wolf began to howl. Catelyn trembled, just for a second.
“Bran’s.” Robb opened the window and let the night air into the stuffy tower room. The howling grew louder. It was a cold and lonely sound, full of melancholy and despair.
“Don’t,” she told him. “Bran needs to stay warm.”
“He needs to hear them sing,” Robb said. Somewhere out in Winterfell, a second wolf began to howl in chorus with the first. Then a third, closer. “Shaggydog and Grey Wind,” Robb said as their voices rose and fell together. “You can tell them apart if you listen close.”
Catelyn was shaking. It was the grief, the cold, the howling of the direwolves. Night after night, the howling and the cold wind and the grey empty castle, on and on they went, never changing, and her boy lying there broken, the sweetest of her children, the gentlest, Bran who loved to laugh and climb and dreamt of knighthood, all gone now, she would never hear him laugh again. Sobbing, she pulled her hand free of his and covered her ears against those terrible howls. “Make them stop!” she cried. “I can’t stand it, make them stop, make them stop, kill them all if you must, just make them stop!”
She didn’t remember falling to the floor, but there she was, and Robb was lifting her, holding her in strong arms. “Don’t be afraid, Mother. They would never hurt him.” He helped her to her narrow bed in the corner of the sickroom. “Close your eyes,” he said gently. “Rest. Maester Luwin tells me you’ve hardly slept since Bran’s fall.”
“I can’t,” she wept. “Gods forgive me, Robb, I can’t, what if he dies while I’m asleep, what if he dies, what if he dies . . .,” The wolves were still howling. She screamed and held her ears again. “Oh, gods, close the window!”
“If you swear to me you’ll sleep.” Robb went to the window, but as he reached for the shutters another sound was added to the mournful howling of the direwolves. “Dogs,” he said, listening. “All the dogs are barking. They’ve never done that before . . .” Catelyn heard his breath catch in his throat. When she looked up, his face was pale in the lamplight. “Fire, “ he whispered.
Fire, she thought, and then, Bran! “Help me,” she said urgently, sitting up. “Help me with Bran.” Robb did not seem to hear her. “The library tower’s on fire,” he said.
Catelyn could see the flickering reddish light through the open window now. She sagged with relief. Bran was safe. The library was across the bailey; there was no way the fire would reach them here. “Thank the gods,” she whispered.
Robb looked at her as if she’d gone mad. “Mother, stay here. I’ll come back as soon as the fire’s out.” He ran then. She heard him shout to the guards outside the room, heard them descending together in a wild rush, taking the stairs two and three at a time.
Outside, there were shouts of “Fire!” in the yard, screams, running footsteps, the whinny of frightened horses, and the frantic barking of the castle dogs. The howling was gone, she realized as she listened to the cacophony. The direwolves had fallen silent.
Catelyn said a silent prayer of thanks to the seven faces of god as she went to the window. Across the bailey, long tongues of flame shot from the windows of the library. She watched the smoke rise into the sky and thought sadly of all the books the Starks had gathered over the centuries. Then she closed the shutters.
When she turned away from the window, the man was in the room with her.
“You weren’t s’posed to be here,” he muttered sourly. “No one was s’posed to be here.”
He was a small, dirty man in filthy brown clothing, and he stank of horses. Catelyn knew all the men who worked in their stables, and he was none of them. He was gaunt, with limp blond hair and pale eyes deep-sunk in a bony face, and there was a dagger in his hand.
Catelyn looked at the knife, then at Bran. “No,” she said. The word stuck in her throat, the merest whisper.
He must have heard her. “It’s a mercy,” he said. “He’s dead already.”
“No,” Catelyn said, louder now as she found her voice again. “No, you can’t.” She spun back toward the window to scream for help, but the man moved faster than she would have believed. One hand clamped down over her mouth and yanked back her head, the other brought the dagger up to her windpipe. The stench of him was overwhelming.
She reached up with both hands and grabbed the blade with all her strength, pulling it away from her throat. She heard him cursing into her ear. Her fingers were slippery with blood, but she would not let go of the dagger. The hand over her mouth clenched more tightly, shutting off her air. Catelyn twisted her head to the side and managed to get a piece of his flesh between her teeth. She bit down hard into his palm. The man grunted in pain. She ground her teeth together and tore at him, and all of a sudden he let go. The taste of his blood filled her mouth. She sucked in air and screamed, and he grabbed her hair and pulled her away from him, and she stumbled and went down, and then he was standing over her, breathing hard, shaking. The dagger was still clutched tightly in his right hand, slick with blood. “You weren’t s’posed to be here,” he repeated stupidly.
Catelyn saw the shadow slip through the open door behind him. There was a low rumble, less than a snarl, the merest whisper of a threat, but he must have heard something, because he started to turn just as the wolf made its leap. They went down together, half sprawled over Catelyn where she’d fallen. The wolf had him under the jaw. The man’s shriek lasted less than a second before the beast wrenched back its head, taking out half his throat.
His blood felt like warm rain as it sprayed across her face.
The wolf was looking at her. Its jaws were red and wet and its eyes glowed golden in the dark room. It was Bran’s wolf, she realized. Of course it was. “Thank you,” Catelyn whispered, her voice faint and tiny. She lifted her hand, trembling. The wolf padded closer, sniffed at her fingers, then licked at the blood with a wet rough tongue. When it had cleaned all the blood off her hand, it turned away silently and jumped up on Bran’s bed and lay down beside him. Catelyn began to laugh hysterically.
That was the way they found them, when Robb and Maester Luwin and Ser Rodrik burst in with half the guards in Winterfell. When the laughter finally died in her throat, they wrapped her in warm blankets and led her back to the Great Keep, to her own chambers. Old Nan undressed her and helped her into a scalding hot bath and washed the blood off her with a soft cloth.
Afterward Maester Luwin arrived to dress her wounds. The cuts in her fingers went deep, almost to the bone, and her scalp was raw and bleeding where he’d pulled out a handful of hair. The maester told her the pain was just starting now, and gave her milk of the poppy to help her sleep.
Finally she closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, they told her that she had slept four days. Catelyn nodded and sat up in bed. It all seemed like a nightmare to her now, everything since Bran’s fall, a terrible dream of blood and grief, but she had the pain in her hands to remind her that it was real. She felt weak and lightheaded, yet strangely resolute, as if a great weight had lifted from her.
“Bring me some bread and honey,” she told her servants, “and take word to Maester Luwin that my bandages want changing.” They looked at her in surprise and ran to do her bidding.
Catelyn remembered the way she had been before, and she was ashamed. She had let them all down, her children, her husband, her House. It would not happen again. She would show these northerners how strong a Tully of Riverrun could be.
Robb arrived before her food. Rodrik Cassel came with him, and her husband’s ward Theon Greyjoy, and lastly Hallis Mollen, a muscular guardsman with a square brown beard. He was the new captain of the guard, Robb said. Her son was dressed in boiled leather and ringmail, she saw, and a sword hung at his waist.
“Who was he?” Catelyn asked them.
“No one knows his name,” Hallis Mollen told her. “He was no man of Winterfell, m’lady, but some says they seen him here and about the castle these past few weeks.”
“One of the king’s men, then,” she said, “or one of the Lannisters’. He could have waited behind when the others left.”
“Maybe,” Hal said. “With all these strangers filling up Winterfell of late, there’s no way of saying who he belonged to.”
“He’d been biding in your stables,” Greyjoy said. “You could smell it on him.” “And how could he go unnoticed?” she said sharply.
Hallis Mollen looked abashed. “Between the horses Lord Eddard took south and them we sent north to the Night’s Watch, the stalls were half-empty. It were no great trick to hide from the stable boys. Could be Hodor saw him, the talk is that boy’s been acting queer, but simple as he is . . .” Hal shook his head.
“We found where he’d been sleeping,” Robb put in. “He had ninety silver stags in a leather bag buried beneath the straw.”
“It’s good to know my son’s life was not sold cheaply,” Catelyn said bitterly.
Hallis Mollen looked at her, confused. “Begging your grace, m’lady, you saying he was out to kill your boy?”
Greyjoy was doubtful. “That’s madness.”
“He came for Bran,” Catelyn said. “He kept muttering how I wasn’t supposed to be there. He set the library fire thinking I would rush to put it out, taking any guards with me. If I hadn’t been half-mad with grief, it would have worked.”
“Why would anyone want to kill Bran?” Robb said. “Gods, he’s only a little boy, helpless, sleeping . . .”
Catelyn gave her firstborn a challenging look. “If you are to rule in the north, you must think these things through, Robb. Answer your own question. Why would anyone want to kill a sleeping child?”
Before he could answer, the servants returned with a plate of food fresh from the kitchen. There was much more than she’d asked for: hot bread, butter and honey and blackberry preserves, a rasher of bacon and a soft-boiled egg, a wedge of cheese, a pot of mint tea. And with it came Maester Luwin.
“How is my son, Maester?” Catelyn looked at all the food and found she had no appetite. Maester Luwin lowered his eyes. “Unchanged, my lady.”
It was the reply she had expected, no more and no less. Her hands throbbed with pain, as if the blade were still in her, cutting deep. She sent the servants away and looked back to Robb. “Do you have the answer yet?”
“Someone is afraid Bran might wake up,” Robb said, “afraid of what he might say or do, afraid of something he knows.”
Catelyn was proud of him. “Very good.” She turned to the new captain of the guard. “We must keep Bran safe. If there was one killer, there could be others.”
“How many guards do you want, m’lady?” Hal asked.
“So long as Lord Eddard is away, my son is the master of Winterfell,” she told him.
Robb stood a little taller. “Put one man in the sickroom, night and day, one outside the door, two at the bottom of the stairs. No one sees Bran without my warrant or my mother’s.”
“As you say, m’lord.”
“Do it now,” Catelyn suggested.
“And let his wolf stay in the room with him,” Robb added. “Yes,” Catelyn said. And then again: “Yes.”
Hallis Mollen bowed and left the room.
“Lady Stark,” Ser Rodrik said when the guardsman had gone, “did you chance to notice the dagger the killer used?”
“The circumstances did not allow me to examine it closely, but I can vouch for its edge,” Catelyn replied with a dry smile. “Why do you ask?”
“We found the knife still in the villain’s grasp. It seemed to me that it was altogether too fine a weapon for such a man, so I looked at it long and hard. The blade is Valyrian steel, the hilt dragonbone. A weapon like that has no business being in the hands of such as him. Someone gave it to him.”
Catelyn nodded, thoughtful. “Robb, close the door.” He looked at her strangely, but did as she told him.
“What I am about to tell you must not leave this room,” she told them. “I want your oaths on that. If even part of what I suspect is true, Ned and my girls have ridden into deadly danger, and a word in the wrong ears could mean their lives.”
“Lord Eddard is a second father to me,” said Theon Greyjoy. “I do so swear.” “You have my oath,” Maester Luwin said.
“And mine, my lady,” echoed Ser Rodrik.
She looked at her son. “And you, Robb?”
He nodded his consent.
“My sister Lysa believes the Lannisters murdered her husband, Lord Arryn, the Hand of the King,” Catelyn told them. “It comes to me that Jaime Lannister did not join the hunt the day Bran fell. He remained here in the castle.” The room was deathly quiet. “I do not think Bran fell from that tower,” she said into the stillness. “I think he was thrown.”
The shock was plain on their faces. “My lady, that is a monstrous suggestion,” said Rodrik Cassel. “Even the Kingslayer would flinch at the murder of an innocent child.”
“Oh, would he?” Theon Greyjoy asked. “I wonder.”
“There is no limit to Lannister pride or Lannister ambition,” Catelyn said.
“The boy had always been sure handed in the past,” Maester Luwin said thoughtfully. “He knew every stone in Winterfell.”
“Gods, “ Robb swore, his young face dark with anger. “ If this is true, he will pay for it.” He drew his sword and waved it in the air. “I’ll kill him myself!”
Ser Rodrik bristled at him. “Put that away! The Lannisters are a hundred leagues away. Never draw your sword unless you mean to use it. How many times must I tell you, foolish boy?”
Abashed, Robb sheathed his sword, suddenly a child again. Catelyn said to Ser Rodrik, “I see my son is wearing steel now.”
The old master-at-arms said, “I thought it was time.”
Robb was looking at her anxiously. “Past time,” she said. “Winterfell may have need of all its swords soon, and they had best not be made of wood.”
Theon Greyjoy put a hand on the hilt of his blade and said, “My lady, if it comes to that, my House owes yours a great debt.”
Maester Luwin pulled at his chain collar where it chafed against his neck. “All we have is conjecture. This is the queen’s beloved brother we mean to accuse. She will not take it kindly. We must have proof, or forever keep silent.”
“Your proof is in the dagger,” Ser Rodrik said. “A fine blade like that will not have gone unnoticed.”
There was only one place to find the truth of it, Catelyn realized. “Someone must go to King’s Landing.”
“I’ll go,” Robb said.
“No,” she told him. “Your place is here. There must always be a Stark in Winterfell.” She looked at Ser Rodrik with his great white whiskers, at Maester Luwin in his grey robes, at young Greyjoy, lean and dark and impetuous. Who to send? Who would be believed? Then she knew. Catelyn struggled to push back the blankets, her bandaged fingers as stiff and unyielding as stone. She climbed out of bed. “I must go myself.”
“My lady,” said Maester Luwin, “is that wise? Surely the Lannisters would greet your arrival with suspicion.”
“What about Bran?” Robb asked. The poor boy looked utterly confused now. “You can’t mean to leave him.”
“I have done everything I can for Bran,” she said, laying a wounded hand on his arm. “His life is in the hands of the gods and Maester Luwin. As you reminded me yourself, Robb, I have other children to think of now.”
“You will need a strong escort, my lady,” Theon said. “I’ll send Hal with a squad of guardsmen,” Robb said.
“No,” Catelyn said. “A large party attracts unwelcome attention. I would not have the Lannisters know I am coming.”
Ser Rodrik protested. “My lady, let me accompany you at least. The kingsroad can be perilous for a woman alone.”
“I will not be taking the kingsroad,” Catelyn replied. She thought for a moment, then nodded her consent. “Two riders can move as fast as one, and a good deal faster than a long column burdened by wagons and wheelhouses. I will welcome your company, Ser Rodrik. We will follow the White Knife down to the sea, and hire a ship at White Harbor. Strong horses and brisk winds should bring us to King’s Landing well ahead of Ned and the Lannisters.” And then, she thought, we shall see what we shall see.