grrm.astormofswords-第106章

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tle　birds　were　to　blame。
　What　difference　did　it　make？　They　were　laughing　at　him　all　the　same。　The　only　person　in　the　Red　Keep　who　didn't　seem　to　find　his　marriage　a　source　of　amusement　was　his　lady　wife。
　Sansa's　misery　was　deepening　every　day。　Tyrion　would　gladly　have　broken　through　her　courtesy　to　give　her　what　solace　he　might；　but　it　was　no　good。　No　words　would　ever　make　him　fair　in　her　eyes。　Or　any　less　a　Lannister。　This　was　the　wife　they　had　given　him；　for　all　the　rest　of　his　life；　and　she　hated　him。
　And　their　nights　together　in　the　great　bed　were　another　source　of　torment。　He　could　no　longer　bear　to　sleep　naked；　as　had　been　his　custom。　His　wife　was　too　well　trained　ever　to　say　an　unkind　word；　but　the　revulsion　in　her　eyes　whenever　she　looked　on　his　body　was　more　than　he　could　bear。　Tyrion　had　manded　Sansa　to　wear　a　sleeping　shift　as　well。　I　want　her；　he　realized。　I　want　Winterfell；　yes；　but　I　want　her　as　well；　child　or　woman　or　whatever　she　is。　I　want　to　fort　her。　I　want　to　hear　her　laugh。　I　want　her　to　e　to　me　willingly；　to　bring　me　her　joys　and　her　sorrows　and　her　lust。　His　mouth　twisted　in　a　bitter　smile。　Yes；　and　I　want　to　be　tall　as　Jaime　and　as　strong　as　Ser　Gregor　the　Mountain　too；　for　all　the　bloody　good　it　does。
　Unbidden；　his　thoughts　went　to　Shae。　Tyrion　had　not　wanted　her　to　hear　the　news　from　any　lips　but　his　own；　so　he　had　manded　Varys　to　bring　her　to　him　the　night　before　his　wedding。　They　met　again　in　the　eunuch's　chambers；　and　when　Shae　began　to　undo　the　laces　of　his　jerkin；　he'd　caught　her　by　the　wrist　and　pushed　her　away。　〃Wait；〃　he　said；　〃there　is　something　you　must　hear。　On　the　morrow　I　am　to　be　wed　。　。　。
　〃　。　。　。　to　Sansa　Stark。　I　know。〃
　He　was　speechless　for　an　instant。　Even　Sansa　did　not　know；　not　then。　〃How　could　you　know？　Did　Varys　tell　you？〃
　〃Some　page　was　telling　Ser　Tallad　about　it　when　I　took　Lollys　to　the　sept。　He　had　it　from　this　serving　girl　who　heard　Ser　Kevan　talking　to　your　father。〃　She　wriggled　free　of　his　grasp　and　pulled　her　dress　up　over　her　head。　As　ever；　she　was　naked　underneath。　〃I　don't　care。　She's　only　a　little　girl。　You'll　give　her　a　big　belly　and　e　back　to　me。〃
　Some　part　of　him　had　hoped　for　less　indifference。　Had　hoped；　he　jeered　bitterly；　but　now　you　know　better；　dwarf。　Shae　is　all　the　love　you're　ever　like　to　have。
　Muddy　Way　was　crowded；　but　soldiers　and　townfolk　alike　made　way　for　the　Imp　and　his　escort。　Hollow…eyed　children　swarmed　underfoot；　some　looking　up　in　silent　appeal　whilst　others　begged　noisily。　Tyrion　pulled　a　big　fistful　of　coppers　from　his　purse　and　tossed　them　in　the　air；　and　the　children　went　running　for　them；　shoving　and　shouting。　The　lucky　ones　might　be　able　to　buy　a　heel　of　stale　bread　tonight。　He　had　never　seen　markets　so　crowded；　and　for　all　the　food　the　Tyrells　were　bringing　in；　prices　remained　shockingly　high。　Six　coppers　for　a　melon；　a　silver　stag　for　a　bushel　of　corn；　a　dragon　for　a　side　of　beef　or　six　skinny　piglets。　Yet　there　seemed　no　lack　of　buyers。　Gaunt　men　and　haggard　women　crowded　around　every　wagon　and　stall；　while　others　even　more　ragged　looked　on　sullenly　from　the　mouths　of　alleys。
　〃This　way；〃　Bronn　said；　when　they　reached　the　foot　of　the　Hook。　〃If　you　still　mean　to　。　。　。　？〃
　〃I　do。〃　The　riverfront　had　made　a　convenient　excuse；　but　Tyrion　had　another　purpose　today。　It　was　not　a　task　he　relished；　but　it　must　be　done。
　They　turned　away　from　Aegon's　High　Hill；　into　the　maze　of　smaller　streets　that　clustered　around　the　foot　of　Visenya's。　Bronn　led　the　way。　Once　or　twice　Tyrion　glanced　back　over　his　shoulder　to　see　if　they　were　being　followed；　but　there　was　nothing　to　be　seen　except　the　usual　rabble：　a　carter　beating　his　horse；　an　old　woman　throwing　nightsoil　from　her　window；　two　little　boys　fighting　with　sticks；　three　gold　cloaks　escorting　a　captive　。　。　。　they　all　looked　innocent；　but　any　one　of　them　could　be　his　undoing。　Varys　had　informers　everywhere。
　They　turned　at　a　corner；　and　again　at　the　next；　and　rode　slowly　through　a　crowd　of　women　at　a　well。　Bronn　led　him　along　a　curving　wynd；　through　an　alley；　under　a　broken　archway。　They　cut　through　the　rubble　where　a　house　had　burned　and　walked　their　horses　up　a　shallow　flight　of　stone　steps。　The　buildings　were　close　and　poor。　Brorm　halted　at　the　mouth　of　a　crooked　alley；　too　narrow　for　two　to　ride　abreast。　〃There's　two　jags　and　then　a　dead　end。　The　sink　is　in　the　cellar　of　the　last　building。〃
　Tyrion　swung　down　off　his　horse。　〃See　that　no　one　enters　or　leaves　till　I　return。　This　won't　take　long。〃　His　hand　went　into　his　cloak；　to　make　certain　the　gold　was　still　there　in　the　hidden　pocket。　Thirty　dragons。　A　bloody　fortune；　for　a　man　like　him。　He　waddled　up　the　alley　quickly；　anxious　to　be　done　with　this。
　The　wine　sink　was　a　dismal　place；　dark　and　damp；　walls　pale　with　niter；　the　ceiling　so　low　that　Bronn　would　have　had　to　duck　to　keep　from　hitting　his　head　on　the　beams。　Tyrion　Lannister　had　no　such　problem。　At　this　hour；　the　front　room　was　empty　but　for　a　dead…eyed　woman　who　sat　on　a　stool　behind　a　rough　plank　bar。　She　handed　him　a　cup　of　sour　wine　and　said；　〃In　the　back。〃
　The　back　room　was　even　darker。　A　flickering　candle　burned　on　a　low　table；　beside　a　flagon　of　wine。　The　man　behind　it　scarce　looked　a　danger；　a　short　man…though　all　men　were　tall　to　Tyrion…with　thinning　brown　hair；　pink　cheeks；　and　a　little　pot　pushing　at　the　bone　buttons　of　his　doeskin　jerkin。　In　his　soft　hands　he　held　a　twelve…stringed　woodharp　more　deadly　than　a　longsword。
　Tyrion　sat　across　from　him。　〃Symon　Silver　Tongue。〃
　The　man　inclined　his　head。　He　was　bald　on　top。　〃My　lord　Hand；〃　he　said。
　〃You　mistake　me。　My　father　is　the　King's　Hand。　I　am　no　longer　even　a　finger；　I　fear。〃
　〃You　shall　rise　again；　I　am　sure。　A　man　like　you。　My　sweet　lady　Shae　tells　me　you　are　newly　wed。　Would　that　you　had　sent　for　me　earlier。　I　should　have　been　honored　to　sing　at　your　feast。〃
　〃The　last　thing　my　wife　needs　is　more　songs；〃　said　Tyrion。　〃As　for　Shae；　we　both　know　she　is　no　lady；　and　I　would　thank　you　never　to　speak　her　name　aloud。〃
　〃As　the　Hand　mands；〃　Symon　said。
　The　last　time　Tyrion　had　seen　the　man；　a　sharp　word　had　been　enough　to　set　him　sweating；　but　it　seemed　the　singer　had　found　some　courage　somewhere。　Most　like　in　that　flagon。　Or　perhaps　Tyrion　himself　was　to　blame　for　this　new　boldness。　I　threatened　him；　but　nothing　ever　came　of　the　threat；　so　now　he　believes　me　toothless。　He　sighed。　〃I　am　told　you　are　a　very　gifted　singer。〃
　〃You　are　most　kind　to　say　so；　my　lord。〃
　Tyrion　gave　him　a　smile。　〃I　think　it　is　time　you　brought　your　music　to　the　Free　Cities。　They　are　great　lovers　of　song　in　Braavos　and　Pentos　and　Lys；　and　generous　with　those　who　please　them。〃　He　took　a　sip　of　wine。　It　was　foul　stuff；　but　strong。　〃A　tour　of　all　nine　cities　would　be　best。　You　wouldn't　want　to　deny　anyone　the　joy　of　hearing　you　sing。　A　year　in　each　should　suffice。〃　He　reached　inside　his　cloak；　to　where　the　gold　was　hidden。　〃With　the　port　closed；　you　will　need　to　go　to　Duskendale　to　take　ship；　but　my　man　Brorm　will　find　a　horse　for　you；　and　I　would　be　honored　if　you　would　let　me　pay　your　passage　。　。　。〃
　〃But　my　lord；〃　the　man　objected；　〃you　have　never　heard　me　sing。　Pray　listen　a　moment。〃　His　fingers　moved　deftly　over　the　strings　of　the　woodharp；　and　soft　music　filled　the　cellar。　Symon　began　to　sing。
　He　rode　through　the　streets　of　the　city；　down　from　his　hill　on　high；
　O'er　the　wynds　and　the　steps　and　the　cobbles；　he　rode　to　a　woman's　sigh。
　For　she　was　his　secret　treasure；　she　was　his　shame　and　his　bliss。
　And　a　chain　and　a　keep　are　nothing；　pared　to　a　woman's　kiss。
　〃There's　more；〃　the　man　said　as　he　broke　off；　〃Oh；　a　good　deal　more。　The　refrain　is　especially　nice；　I　think。　For　hands　of　gold　are　always　cold；　but　a　woman's　hands　are　warm　。　。　。〃
　〃Enough。〃　Tyrion　slid　his　fingers　from　his　cloak；　empty。　〃That's　not　a　song　I　would　care　to　hear　again。　Ever。〃
　〃No？〃　Symon　Silver　Tongue　put　his　harp　aside　and　took　a　sip　of　wine。　〃A　pity。　Still；　each　man　has　his　song；　as　my　old　master　used　to　say　when　he　was　teaching　me　to　play。　Others　might　like　my　tune　better。　The　queen；　perhaps。　Or　your　lord　father。〃
　Tyrion　rubbed　the　scar　over　his　nose；　and　said；　〃My　father　has　no　time　for　singers；　an