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PROLOGUE
序章
The day was grey and bitter cold, and the dogs would not take the scent.
天灰灰的，冷得怕人，狗闻不到气味。
The big black bitch had taken one sniff at the bear tracks, backed off, and skulked back to the pack with her tail between her legs.
黑色的大母狗嗅嗅熊的踪迹，缩了回去，夹着尾巴躲进狗群里。
The dogs huddled together miserably on the riverbank as the wind snapped at them.
这群狗凄惨地蜷缩在河岸边，任凭寒风抽打。
Chett felt it too, biting through his layers of black wool and boiled leather.
风钻过层层羊毛和皮衣，齐特也觉得冷，
It was too bloody cold for man or beast, but here they were.
该死的寒气对人对狗都一样，可他却不得不待在原地。
His mouth twisted, and he could almost feel the boils that covered his cheeks and neck growing red and angry.
想到这里，他的嘴扭成一团，满脸疖子因恼怒而发红。
I should be safe back at the Wall, tending the bloody ravens and making fires for old Maester Aemon.
我本该安安全全留在长城，照料那群臭乌鸦，为伊蒙老师傅生火才对。
It was the bastard Jon Snow who had taken that from him, him and his fat friend Sam Tarly.
琼恩·雪诺这狗杂种为安插他的胖子朋友山姆·塔利，抢了我的位子，才害我落到这步田地！
It was their fault he was here, freezing his bloody balls off with a pack of hounds deep in the haunted forest.
妈的，跟这群猎狗一块儿呆在鬼影森林深处，卵蛋都快冻掉了。
“Seven hells.”
“七层地狱！”
He gave the leashes a hard yank to get the dogs’ attention.
他猛地拽住狗的缰绳，
“Track, you bastards.
“闻啊，杂种！
That’s a bear print. You want some meat or no? Find!”
这是熊的痕迹，还想不想吃肉？快闻！”
But the hounds only huddled closer, whining.
狗们却缩得更紧，并发出哀鸣。
Chett snapped his short lash above their heads, and the black bitch snarled at him.
齐特用短鞭在它们头上虚劈，惹得那头黑母狗对他咆哮。
“Dog meat would taste as good as bear,” he warned her, his breath frosting with every word.
“狗肉不比熊肉差，”他警告她，吐息出口，立即结霜。
Lark the Sisterman stood with his arms crossed over his chest and his hands tucked up into his armpits.
姐妹男拉克环抱胳膊，手掌插在腋窝，
He wore black wool gloves, but he was always complaining how his fingers were frozen.
尽管戴着厚厚的黑羊毛手套，还在不停抱怨指头冻得厉害。
“It’s too bloody cold to hunt,” he said.
“该死，冷得要命，怎么打猎啊？”他说，
“Bugger this bear, he’s not worth freezing over.”
“去他妈的熊，不值得我们冻坏身子。”
“We can’t go back emptyhand, Lark,” rumbled Small Paul through the brown whiskers that covered most of his face.
“俺不能空手回去，拉克，”一脸棕色摞腮胡的小保罗低吼，
“The Lord Commander wouldn’t like that.”
“司令大人会不高兴的。”
There was ice under the big man’s squashed pug nose, where his snot had frozen.
壮汉的鼻涕在扁扁的狮子鼻下结冰，
A huge hand in a thick fur glove clenched tight around the shaft of a spear.
穿大皮手套的巨手紧攥着一根长矛。
“Bugger that Old Bear too,” said the Sisterman, a thin man with sharp features and nervous eyes.
“熊老也去他妈的，”身材消瘦，眼神游离不定的姐妹男应道，
“Mormont will be dead before daybreak, remember?
“记得吗，莫尔蒙明天就完蛋了，
Who cares what he likes?”
谁关心他高不高兴？”
Small Paul blinked his black little eyes.
小保罗眨眨小小的黑眼珠。
Maybe he had forgotten, Chett thought; he was stupid enough to forget most anything.
或许他又健忘了，齐特心想，这人蠢得什么都记不清。“
