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squinteddownriver.“Smoke.”Athingreyfingercrookedthemon.Itwasrisingfromthesouthbankseveralmileson,twistingandcurling.Below,Jaimemadeoutthesmolderingremainsofalargebuilding,andaliveoakfullofdeadwomen.Thecrowshadscarcelystartedontheircorpses.Thethinropescutdeeplyintothesoftfleshoftheirthroats,andwhenthewindblewtheytwistedandswayed.“Thiswasnotchivalrouslydone,”saidBriennewhentheywerecloseenoughtoseeitclearly.“Notrueknightwouldcondonesuchwantonbutchery.”“Trueknightsseeworseeverytimetheyridetowar,wench,”saidJaime.“Anddoworse,yes.”Brienneturnedtheruddertowardtheshore.“I’llleavenoinnocentstobefoodforcrows.”“Aheartlesswench.Crowsneedtoeataswell.Staytotheriverandleavethedeadalone,woman.”Theylandedupstreamofwherethegreatoakleanedoutoverthewater.AsBrienneloweredthesail,Jaimeclimbedout,clumsyinhischains.TheRedForkfilledhisbootsandsoakedthroughtheraggedbreeches.Laughing,hedroppedtohisknees,plungedhisheadunderthewater,andcameupdrenchedanddripping.Hishandswerecakedwithdirt,andwhenherubbedthemcleaninthecurrenttheyseemedthinnerandpalerthanheremembered.Hislegswerestiffaswell,andunsteadywhenheputhisweightuponthem.IwastoobloodylonginHosterTully’sdungeon.BrienneandCleosdraggedtheskiffontothebank.Thecorpseshungabovetheirheads,ripeningindeathlikefoulfruit.“Oneofuswillneedtocutthemdown,”thewenchsaid.“I’llclimb.”Jaimewadedashore,clanking.“Justgetthesechainsoff.”Thewenchwasstaringupatoneofthedeadwomen.Jaimeshuffledcloserwithsmallstuttersteps,theonlykindthefoot-longchainpermitted.Whenhesawthecrudesignhungabouttheneckofthehighestcorpse,hesmiled.“TheyLayWithLions,”heread.“Oh,yes,woman,thiswasmostunchivalrouslydone...butbyyourside,notmine.Iwonderwhotheywere,thesewomen?”“Tavernwenches,”saidSerCleosFrey.“Thiswasaninn,Irememberitnow.SomemenofmyescortspentthenightherewhenwelastreturnedtoRiverrun.”Nothingremainedofthebuildingbutthestonefoundationandatangleofcollapsedbeams,charredblack.Smokestillrosefromtheashes.JaimeleftbrothelsandwhorestohisbrotherTyrion;Cerseiwastheonlywomanhehadeverwanted.“Thegirlspleasuredsomeofmylordfather’ssoldiers,itwouldseem.Perhapsservedthemfoodanddrink.That’showtheyearnedtheirtraitors’collars,withakissandacupofale.”Heglancedupanddowntheriver,tomakecertaintheywerequitealone.“ThisisBrackenland.LordJonosmighthaveorderedthemkilled.Myfatherburnedhiscastle,Ifearhelovesusnot.”“ItmightbeMarqPiper’swork,”saidSerCleos.“Orthatwispo’thewoodBericDondarrion,thoughI’dheardhekillsonlysoldiers.PerhapsabandofRooseBolton’snorthmen?”“BoltonwasdefeatedbymyfatherontheGreenFork.”“Butnotbroken,”saidSerCleos.“HecamesouthagainwhenLordTywinmarchedagainstthefords.ThewordatRiverrunwasthathe’dtakenHarrenhalfromSerAmoryLorch.”Jaimelikedthesoundofthatnotatall.“Brienne,”hesaid,grantingherthecourtesyofthenameinthehopesthatshemightlisten,“ifLordBoltonholdsHarrenhal,boththeTridentandthekingsroadarelikelywatched.”Hethoughthesawatouchofuncertaintyinherbigblueeyes.“Youareundermy

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鐧界櫆椋庡彲浠ユ不鐤楀ソ鍚?
鐧界櫆椋庡彲浠ユ不鐤楀ソ鍚?