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Bone thin and bone hard he was, with a face that might have been chipped from flint. His eyes were flinty too, black and sharp, but the years and the salt winds had turned his hair the grey of a winter sea, flecked with whitecaps. Unbound, it hung past the small of the back.
他体瘦如柴，一副硬骨架，而那张脸简直就像用燧石凿出，惟独一双黑眼十分锐利。父亲的头发历经岁月和海风摧残，成了冬日大海的灰色，其间缀了几朵白浪，未经扎理，垂下过肩。
Nine years, is it? Lord Balon said at last.
“九年了？”最后巴隆大王开口。
Ten, Theon answered, pulling off his torn gloves.
“十年。”席恩回答，脱下被刺破的手套。
A boy they took, his father said. "What are you now?"
“你被他们带走时是个孩子，”父亲说，“现在呢？”
A man, Theon answered. "Your blood and your heir."
“我已长大成人，”席恩答道，“我是您的亲生骨肉，也是您的继承人。”
Lord Balon grunted. "We shall see."
那是好久以前的事了巴隆大王哼了一声，“这我可不敢确定。”
You shall, Theon said.
“我会让您确定。”席恩向他保证。
Ten years, you say. Stark had you as long as I. And now you come as his envoy.
“你说十年？史塔克那家伙养你的时间和我一样长，你现在更成了他的使节。”
Not his, Theon said. "Lord Eddard is dead, beheaded by the Lannister queen."
“不。”席恩道，“艾德大人已死，他被兰尼斯特家的太后斩首示众。”
They are both dead, Stark and that Robert who broke my walls with his stones. I vowed I'd live to see them both in their graves, and I have. He grimaced. "Yet the cold and the damp still make my joints ache, as when they were alive. So what does it serve?" "It serves." Theon moved closer. "I bring a letter—"
“史塔克和那个砸破我城墙的劳勃，他们两个都死了。我发过誓一定要亲眼见他们进坟墓，现在果真如愿以偿。”他皱起眉头，“可遇上湿冷天气，我的关节还是会痛，和他们在世时没两样。所以到头来这有什么意义呢？”“当然有意义，”席恩走上前，“我带来一封信——”
Did Ned Stark dress you like that? his father interrupted, squinting up from beneath his robe. "Was it his pleasure to garb you in velvets and silks and make you his own sweet daughter?"
“是奈德·史塔克教你穿成这样？”父亲眯起眼睛，打断他的话，“他喜欢你穿天鹅绒和丝衣服，当他的乖女儿？”
