Chapter 第三十三章 提利昂（八）
TYRION
当Selaesori Qhoran号从瓦兰提斯启程七天后，佩妮才终于从她的舱里出来，像个刚从冬眠中睡醒的胆小的丛林生物一样爬到甲板。
The Selaesori Qhoran was seven days from Volantis when Penny finally emerged from her cabin, creeping up on deck like some timid woodland creature emerging from a long winter’s sleep.
已经是黄昏了，红袍僧在船中央的火盆里点燃夜火以便信徒们环绕着它祈祷。莫阔罗的低如鼓声的嗓音似乎是从他巨大的身躯的深处发出的。“我们感谢太阳赐予我们温暖，”他祈祷道。“我们感谢星星在我们驶过这片冰冷的黑海时指引我们方向。”这是一个比乔拉高大并且几乎有他两个那么宽的体型庞大的男子——神僧穿着猩红色的袍子绣花的袖子和兜帽，领子则镶嵌着橘红的火焰绸缎。他的皮肤如沥青一样黝黑，头发像雪一样白，脸上有刺青的火焰和黄色河橘色的眉毛。他和他一样高的铁权杖头顶一只龙头，当他用它的末端敲击甲板时，龙口吐出小股绿焰。来自遥远过去的陌生声音呼喊着她。“梅洛妮，” 她听到一个女人在哭喊。一个男人的声音在叫，“第七组。（Lot Seven）” 她在哭泣， 从她眼里流出的泪都是火焰。 而她只能默默地吞掉。
It was dusk and the red priest had lit his nightfire in the great iron brazier amidships as the crew gathered round to pray. Moqorro’s voice was a bass drum that seemed to boom from somewhere deep within his massive torso. “We thank you for your sun that keeps us warm,” he prayed. “We thank you for your stars that watch over us as we sail this cold black sea.” A huge man, taller than Ser Jorah and wide enough to make two of him, the priest wore scarlet robes embroidered at sleeve and hem and collar with orange satin flames. His skin was black as pitch, his hair as white as snow; the flames tattooed across his cheeks and brow yellow and orange. His iron staff was as tall as he was and crowned with a dragon’s head; when he stamped its butt upon the deck, the dragon’s maw spat crackling green flame.
他的卫兵是五个炎之手的奴隶勇士，引领着回应。他们用古瓦兰提斯与咏唱，但是提利昂已经听得足够多次以领会大意。点燃我们的火焰保护我们免除黑暗的侵扰云云，照亮我们的前路温暖我们的身躯，长夜黑暗处处恐怖，将我们从可怕的事物中拯救出来，云云还有其他的。
His guardsmen, five slave warriors of the Fiery Hand, led the responses. They chanted in the tongue of Old Volantis, but Tyrion had heard the prayers enough to grasp the essence. Light our fire and protect us from the dark, blah blah, light our way and keep us toasty warm, the night is dark and full of terrors, save us from the scary things, and blah blah blah some more.
他知道有比大声说出这些想法更好的办法。提里昂·兰尼斯特不需要神灵。但是在这艘船上对拉赫洛致以一定的敬意依旧是明智之举。乔拉·莫尔蒙自他们航行稳定后就已经解除了提利昂的镣铐，他可不准备再给他什么理由重新戴上它们。
He knew better than to voice such thoughts aloud. Tyrion Lannister had no use for any god, but on this ship it was wise to show a certain respect for red R’hllor. Jorah Mormont had removed Tyrion’s chains and fetters once they were safely under way, and the dwarf did not wish to give him cause to clap them on again.
Selaesori Qhoran号是一艘500吨级的颠簸的有着深深的船舱和高高的前后船楼的单桅慢船。在她的前船楼上立着一座怪诞的船首像，这个虫蛀的木雕大人物看上去似乎患了便秘，其中一只胳膊下塞着一个卷轴。提利昂再没看过比她更丑的船了，但是似乎她的船员们也不比她号多少。她的船长，一个说话刻薄的生硬的壶肚的男人，长着一对瞳距甚小的贪婪的眼睛，而且是个糟糕的锡瓦斯棋玩家以及一个更糟的输家。他手下有四个大副和50个船奴，每个人的一边脸颊上都纹着个粗糙的本船船首像的形状（the cog’s figurehead） 。无论提利昂怎么提醒他们他的名字叫雨果·希山，那群人依旧喜欢叫提利昂“没鼻子”。 梅丽珊卓以前就在火焰中看见过了， 她已经警告过他， 他身处险境， 从四面包围着他的敌人， 黑暗中的匕首。
The Selaesori Qhoran was a wallowing tub of five hundred tons, with a deep hold, high castles fore and aft, and a single mast between. At her forecastle stood a grotesque figurehead, some worm-eaten wooden eminence with a constipated look and a scroll tucked up under one arm. Tyrion had never seen an uglier ship. Her crew was no prettier. Her captain, a mean-mouthed, flinty, kettle-bellied man with close-set, greedy eyes, was a bad cyvasse player and a worse loser. Under him served four mates, freedmen all, and fifty slaves bound to the ship, each with a crude version of the cog’s figurehead tattooed upon one cheek. No-Nose, the sailors liked to call Tyrion, no matter how many times he told them his name was Hugor Hill.
四分之三的大副还有多于四分之三的船员都是光之王的狂热信徒。提利昂不太确定那个船长的信仰，他总在晚祷时出席但是却不参与其他人的行为。但是莫阔罗才是Selaesori Qhoran号的真正主人，至少在这趟旅行是。
Three of the mates and more than three-quarters of the crew were fervent worshipers of the Lord of Light. Tyrion was less certain about the captain, who always emerged for the evening prayers but took no other part in them. But Moqorro was the true master of the Selaesori Qhoran, at least for this voyage.
“光之王，祝福您的奴仆莫阔罗吧，在世界的黑暗中为他照亮道路，”红袍僧突然提高嗓音。“并保卫您忠实的奴仆班奈罗，赐予他勇气，赐予他智慧，用火焰充满他的心灵。”
“Lord of Light, bless your slave Moqorro, and light his way in the dark places of the world,” the red priest boomed. “And defend your righteous slave Benerro. Grant him courage. Grant him wisdom. Fill his heart with fire.”
这时提利昂注意到了佩妮，她正在通往后船楼下的木质楼梯上看着那荒谬的仪式。她站在一个低处的台阶上，所以只露出了她的脑袋。在夜火的光芒下她兜帽下的大眼睛闪耀着白色的光芒。她带着她的狗，那只在小丑格斗时她骑的灰色大猎犬。
That was when Tyrion noticed Penny, watching the mummery from the steep wooden stair that led down beneath the sterncastle. She stood on one of the lower steps, so only the top of her head was visible. Beneath her hood her eyes shone big and white in the light of the nightfire. She had her dog with her, the big grey hound she rode in the mock jousts.
“小姐，”提利昂柔声唤她。实际上，她算不上什么小姐，但是对于她那愚蠢的名字他依旧说不出口，而他也不准备叫女孩或者侏儒。
“My lady,” Tyrion called softly. In truth, she was no lady, but he could not bring himself to mouth that silly name of hers, and he was not about to call her girl or dwarf.
她向后缩了缩。“我……我没看到你。”
She cringed back. “I … I did not see you.”
“好吧，我是很小。”
“Well, I am small.”
“我……我不太舒服……”她的狗吠叫。
“I … I was unwell …” Her dog barked.
为悲伤而恶心，这是你的意思。“若如要我的协助的话……”
Sick with grief, you mean. “If I can be of help …”
“不。”她就像她转身离去那样飞快的拒绝了，退回她下面她和她的猪和狗一起待的那个舱位。提利昂没法责备她，那些Selaesori Qhoran号的船员在他上船时已经娱乐够了；毕竟一个侏儒象征着好运。他的头不停地被狠狠揉搓，而他还没成秃子称得上是一个奇迹。但是对待佩妮的反应就有些复杂了。她是个侏儒没错，但她同时也是个女人，而带女人船会招致厄运。相对于每一个试图揉她脑袋的人来说，就有三个人在她经过时低声咒骂。
“No.” And quick as that she was gone again, retreating back below to the cabin she shared with her dog and sow. Tyrion could not fault her. The crew of the Selaesori Qhoran had been pleased enough when he first came on board; a dwarf was good luck, after all. His head had been rubbed so often and so vigorously that it was a wonder he wasn’t bald. But Penny had met with a more mixed reaction. She might be a dwarf, but she was also a woman, and women were bad luck aboard ship. For every man who tried to rub her head, there were three who muttered maledictions under their breath when she went by.
见到我就好比在她的伤口上撒盐。他们希望砍掉我的脑袋但不幸的是那是她哥哥的，而我却坐在这里像个该死的兽形滴水嘴，流出的皆是些空洞的安慰。换做我是她，除了把我丢到海里别无他求。
And the sight of me can only be salt in her wound. They hacked off her brother’s head in the hope that it was mine, yet here I sit like some bloody gargoyle, offering empty consolations. If I were her, I’d want nothing more than to shove me into the sea.
他除了对女孩报以遗憾外还有什么呢？他不应在瓦兰提斯经历那种恐怖，甚至比她哥哥所受的要更甚。上次他看见她还是在他们离港前，她双眼因为痛哭而红肿，像是两团红色的圆洞嵌在她苍白无血色的脸上。一直到他们扬帆起航前她一直把自己锁在舱里，和她的狗猪呆在一块，但是晚上他们能听到她的啜泣声。就是昨天他还听到一个大副说他们应该在她的眼泪淹了船之前把她丢下海。提利昂不太确定他是不是在开玩笑。
He felt nothing but pity for the girl. She did not deserve the horror visited on her in Volantis, any more than her brother had. The last time he had seen her, just before they left port, her eyes had been raw from crying, two ghastly red holes in a wan, pale face. By the time they raised sail she had locked herself in her cabin with her dog and her pig, but at night they could hear her weeping. Only yesterday he had heard one of the mates say that they ought to throw her overboard before her tears could swamp the ship. Tyrion was not entirely sure he had been japing.
当晚祷结束而船员们又再一次散开回到他们的岗位或者去填饱肚子喝点朗姆酒或直接翻回吊床休息，莫阔罗依旧如他每晚所作的一样待在夜火旁边。这个红袍僧白天休息而在黑暗的时段中则一直清醒的看顾他神圣的火焰，这样在黎明时太阳才会回归他们。
When the evening prayers had ended and the ship’s crew had once again dispersed, some to their watch and others to food and rum and hammocks, Moqorro remained beside his nightfire, as he did every night. The red priest rested by day but kept vigil through the dark hours, to tend his sacred flames so that the sun might return to them at dawn.
提利昂蹲在他对面烤手以应对夜寒。莫阔罗则一直盯着摇摆的火焰，陷在某种思绪当中。他能像他声称的那样看见未来么？若是这样的话，那真是个可怕的天赋。过了好一会儿神僧抬起眼直接对上了提利昂的。“雨果·希山，”他说，严肃地微微颔首。“你是来和我一起祈祷的吗？”
Tyrion squatted across from him and warmed his hands against the night’s chill. Moqorro took no notice of him for several moments. He was staring into the flickering flames, lost in some vision. Does he see days yet to come, as he claims? If so, that was a fearsome gift. After a time the priest raised his eyes to meet the dwarf’s. “Hugor Hill,” he said, inclining his head in a solemn nod. “Have you come to pray with me?”
“有人告诉我长夜黑暗处处恐怖。你在火焰里看见了什么？” 自从史坦尼斯南行后， 床就没什么用了。 她感到全世界的命运都压在自己肩上， 她没时间睡觉。何况她害怕做梦。 睡眠只不过是短时间的死亡， 而梦境则是异鬼的呓语， 异鬼会把我们都拖进他那永恒的黑夜。 她宁愿坐在光之王的圣火前， 沐浴在红艳艳的火光中， 让火焰的热浪冲刷着她的脸颊， 红扑扑的像是情人吻过一样。 有时候她也打盹， 但从不超过一个小时。梅丽珊卓祈求着，总有一天， 她会再也不需要睡觉。总有一天， 她会再也不害怕做梦。 梅洛妮， 她回想着。 第七组。
“Someone told me that the night is dark and full of terrors. What do you see in those flames?”
“龙们，”莫阔罗用维斯特洛伊通用语说。他说的很好几乎听不出一丝口音。毫无疑问这是大神僧班奈罗选择他将拉赫洛的信仰传递给丹妮莉丝·坦格利安的原因之一。“年龄大的龙与年纪小的龙，真龙与伪龙，光敏与黑暗。而你，一个有着巨影的小个子男人，在他们中间咆哮。”
“Dragons,” Moqorro said in the Common Tongue of Westeros. He spoke it very well, with hardly a trace of accent. No doubt that was one reason the high priest Benerro had chosen him to bring the faith of R’hllor to Daenerys Targaryen. “Dragons old and young, true and false, bright and dark. And you. A small man with a big shadow, snarling in the midst of all.”
“咆哮？像我这样一个好脾气的家伙？”提利昂几乎感到荣幸了。而毫无疑问那也是他的打算，每个愚者都喜欢听别人说他重要。“也许你看到的是佩妮。我们的身材差不多。”
“Snarling? An amiable fellow like me?” Tyrion was almost flattered. And no doubt that is just what he intends. Every fool loves to hear that he’s important. “Perhaps it was Penny you saw. We’re almost of a size.”
“不，我的朋友。”
“No, my friend.”
我的朋友？那是什么时候的事？我得想想。“你看到我们还有多久才会到弥林？”
My friend? When did that happen, I wonder? “Did you see how long it will take us to reach Meereen?”
“你很急切的想看看这个世界的救世主？”
“You are eager to behold the world’s deliverer?”
是也不是。这个世界的救世主可能会割下我的脑袋或者把我当做调料喂给她的龙。“不是我，”提利昂说。“对我来说，这一切都事关橄榄。但我担心在我变老而死前我能不能尝到一颗。我狗刨都能游得比这艘船快。告诉我，Selaesori Qhoran号到底是元老还是龟佬？”
Yes and no. The world’s deliverer may snick off my head or give me to her dragons as a savory. “Not me,” said Tyrion. “For me, it is all about the olives. Though I fear I may grow old and die before I taste one. I could dog-paddle faster than we’re sailing. Tell me, was Selaesori Qhoran a triarch or a turtle?”
红袍僧轻笑。“都不是，Qhoran是……她不是个统治者只是个提供服务给出忠告管理实务的人。你们维斯特洛伊人肯那个称之为管家或者教师。”
The red priest chuckled. “Neither. Qhoran is … not a ruler, but one who serves and counsels such, and helps conduct his business. You of Westeros might say steward or magister.”
国王之手？这让他乐起来。“那么Selaesori呢？”
King’s Hand? That amused him. “And selaesori?”
莫阔罗碰了碰鼻子。“充满了令人愉悦的气味。芳香的，你们怎么说？如花儿般的？”
Moqorro touched his nose. “Imbued with a pleasant aroma. Fragrant, would you say? Flowery?”
“所以Selaesori Qhoran的意思说来说去就是臭烘烘的管家？”
“So Selaesori Qhoran means Stinky Steward, more or less?”
“说芳香的管家更好点。”
“Fragrant Steward, rather.”
提利昂露出一个扭曲的微笑。“我想还是臭烘烘的更好点，但是还是很感谢您的指教。”
Tyrion gave a crooked grin. “I believe I will stay with Stinky. But I do thank you for the lesson.”
“我很高兴开导了你。也许某天你还会让我教你拉赫洛的真理。”
“I am pleased to have enlightened you. Perhaps someday you will let me teach you the truth of R’hllor as well.”
“后会有期。”当我的脑袋插在矛尖上时。
“Someday.” When I am a head on a spike.
他和乔拉爵士共享的房间只可勉为其难地成为一个舱位；潮湿阴暗一股异味的壁橱脸一双吊床都挂不了，只好重叠着挂。他发现莫尔蒙占据了那个矮点的，随着船的摆动而缓缓摇动。“那个女孩总算把鼻子探上甲板了，”提利昂告诉他。“只消看我一眼她就立马跑回下面去了。”
The quarters he shared with Ser Jorah were a cabin only by courtesy; the dank, dark, foul-smelling closet had barely enough space to hang a pair of sleeping hammocks, one above the other. He found Mormont stretched out in the lower one, swaying slowly with the motion of the ship. “The girl finally poked her nose abovedecks,” Tyrion told him. “One look at me and she scurried right back down below.”
“你看起来可称不上赏心悦目。”
“You’re not a pretty sight.”
“可不是人人都能生的像你那么英俊潇洒。那个女孩迷失了。要是那个可怜的东西突发奇想跑到传遍跳下去淹死可一点儿不会让我吃惊。”
“Not all of us can be as comely as you. The girl is lost. It would not surprise me if the poor creature wasn’t sneaking up to jump over the side and drown herself.”
“那个可怜的东西的名字叫佩妮。”
“The poor creature’s name is Penny.”
“我知道她的名字。”他憎恨那个名字。他的兄弟顶着一个“四分铜板”的名字死掉，而他真实的名字却是“奥博”。“四分铜板”和“一分铜板”。都是些最小的钱币，价值最少，更糟糕的是，他们是自己选择了那些个名字。这让提利昂的嘴里有点苦涩。“无论叫什么名字，她都需要个朋友。”
“I know her name.” He hated her name. Her brother had gone by the name of Groat, though his true name had been Oppo. Groat and Penny. The smallest coins, worth the least, and what’s worse, they chose the names themselves. It left a bad taste in Tyrion’s mouth. “By any name, she needs a friend.”
乔拉爵士从他的吊床里坐起来。“那么，和她交朋友。娶了她，我所关心的就这么多。”
Ser Jorah sat up in his hammock. “Befriend her, then. Marry her, for all I care.”
这也让他的嘴里阵阵苦涩。“物以类聚，这就是你的逻辑？你是不是准备自己给自己找头母熊，爵士？”
That left a bad taste in his mouth as well. “Like with like, is that your notion? Do you mean to find a she-bear for yourself, ser?”
“你才是那个坚持要带上她的人。”
“You were the one who insisted that we bring her.”
“我说过我们不能把她丢在瓦兰提斯。那不意味着我想操她。你难道忘掉她想杀了我吗？要是她想交朋友，我是她最后的选择。”
“I said we could not abandon her in Volantis. That does not mean I want to fuck her. She wants me dead, have you forgotten? I’m the last person she’s like to want as a friend.”
“你们都是侏儒。”
“You’re both dwarfs.”
“是啊，她哥哥也是，而他因为几个醉鬼白痴把他当做了我而被杀掉了。”
“Yes, and so was her brother, who was killed because some drunken fools took him for me.”
“你感觉愧疚了，是不是？”
“Feeling guilty, are you?”
“不是。”提利昂被激怒了。“我有足够多的罪行要负责；对这个却清清白白。我可能对她和她哥哥因为在乔佛里婚礼的那夜上演的闹剧而有点不好的心思，但是我不希望他们受到伤害。”
“No.” Tyrion bristled. “I have sins enough to answer for; I’ll have no part of this one. I might have nurtured some ill will toward her and her brother for the part they played the night of Joffrey’s wedding, but I never wished them harm.”
“显然你是个无害的东西。像羔羊一般纯洁。”乔拉爵士站起身。“那个侏儒女孩是你的责任。亲吻她，杀了她，或者回避她，随你便。与我无关。”他与提利昂擦肩而过出了船舱。
“You are a harmless creature, to be sure. Innocent as a lamb.” Ser Jorah got to his feet. “The dwarf girl is your burden. Kiss her, kill her, or avoid her, as you like. It’s naught to me.” He shouldered past Tyrion and out of the cabin.
两次被放逐，却毫不惊奇，提利昂想。要是我能的话我也会放逐他。这个男人冷酷，沉闷，阴郁，对幽默装聋作哑。而这些还都得算作优点。乔拉爵士醒着的时候基本上都在前船楼上踱步或者倚在围栏上看海。找着他的银女王，找着丹妮莉丝，希望船开得快点。好吧，要是泰莎在弥林等着我的话，我大概也会做同样的事。
Twice exiled, and small wonder, Tyrion thought. I’d exile him too if I could. The man is cold, brooding, sullen, deaf to humor. And those are his good points. Ser Jorah spent most of his waking hours pacing the forecastle or leaning on the rail, gazing out to sea. Looking for his silver queen. Looking for Daenerys, willing the ship to sail faster. Well, I might do the same if Tysha waited in Meereen.
奴隶湾是妓女的去处吗？看起来不太可能。从他曾经读过的资料显示，奴隶城邦是妓女的来源。莫尔蒙该给他自己买一个。一个美丽的奴隶女孩大概能使他的脾气做出奇迹般的提升……特别是个有银发的，就像那个在赛尔霍利斯坐在他老二上的那个妓女。
Could Slaver’s Bay be where whores went? It seemed unlikely. From what he’d read, the slaver cities were the place where whores were made. Mormont should have bought one for himself. A pretty slave girl might have done wonders to improve his temper … particularly one with silvery hair, like the whore who had been sitting on his cock back in Selhorys.
在河上提利昂得忍受格里夫，但是至少在那儿有船长的真正身份的谜题可供消遣，而且在平底船上的小小集团里也有更意气相投的伙伴。在这艘船上，哎呀，每一个人就是他们表现出来的那样，没有什么特别谈得来的人，而只有那个红袍僧有点趣。他，还有大概佩妮。但是那个女孩恨我，而她确实该如此。
On the river Tyrion had to endure Griff, but there had at least been the mystery of the captain’s true identity to divert him and the more congenial companionship of the rest of the poleboat’s little company. On the cog, alas, everyone was just who they appeared to be, no one was particularly congenial, and only the red priest was interesting. Him, and maybe Penny. But the girl hates me, and she should.
提利昂发现，平底船上的生活除了无聊再无它物。他每天生活的高潮就是用把刀扎自己的脚趾手指。在河上，还有些奇景可看：巨大的乌龟，荒废的都市，石人，没穿衣服的修女。没有人会知道下一次转弯后潜伏着什么。而在海上，白天黑夜全都一样。离开瓦兰提斯之后，一开始船还能在看得到大陆的地方航行，所以提利昂可以眺望路过的岬角，海鸟从石崖和破碎的瞭望塔边群起而飞，数一数经过的光秃秃的棕色岛屿。他也看见了很多其他的船：渔船，伐木商的船，骄傲的战舰用它们的桨拍打着海浪激起白色的水花。但一旦它们进入到深水区，就只剩下蓝天碧海，空气与水。水看起来就是水，天看起来就是天，有时会飘过一朵云。太多的蓝色。
Life aboard the Selaesori Qhoran was nothing if not tedious, Tyrion had found. The most exciting part of his day was pricking his toes and fingers with a knife. On the river there had been wonders to behold: giant turtles, ruined cities, stone men, naked septas. One never knew what might be lurking around the next bend. The days and nights at sea were all the same. Leaving Volantis, the cog had sailed within sight of land at first, so Tyrion could gaze at passing headlands, watch clouds of seabirds rise from stony cliffs and crumbling watchtowers, count bare brown islands as they slipped past. He saw many other ships as well: fishing boats, lumbering merchantmen, proud galleys with their oars lashing the waves into white foam. But once they struck out into deeper waters, there was only sea and sky, air and water. The water looked like water. The sky looked like sky. Sometimes there was a cloud. Too much blue.
晚上就更糟了，提利昂即使在最好的时间也睡眠糟糕，更别提现在远非如此。睡觉意味着会做梦，无论想不想，而他的伤心地总在他的梦里等着他，还有一个长着他父亲脸庞的冷酷国王。这让他不得不以乞丐的选择爬进他的吊床听着乔拉·莫尔蒙在他下面打呼噜或者在待在甲板上对大海凝神思考。在无月的夜晚，四围天际，海水黑得如同学士的墨水。冷峻黢黑深邃，从寒冷的角度看还挺美，但是当他看得过久就会发现自己开始想，要是翻过船缘跳进那团黑暗是多么的容易。一声小小的水花声，然后那个可悲的小小传说就完了，而那便是他的一生。但若真有地狱而我父亲在等着我的话呢？
And the nights were worse. Tyrion slept badly at the best of times, and this was far from that. Sleep meant dreams as like as not, and in his dreams the Sorrows waited, and a stony king with his father’s face. That left him with the beggar’s choice of climbing up into his hammock and listening to Jorah Mormont snore beneath him, or remaining abovedecks to contemplate the sea. On moonless nights the water was as black as maester’s ink, from horizon to horizon. Dark and deep and forbidding, beautiful in a chilly sort of way, but when he looked at it too long Tyrion found himself musing on how easy it would be to slip over the gunwale and drop down into that darkness. One very small splash, and the pathetic little tale that was his life would soon be done. But what if there is a hell and my father’s waiting for me?
每晚的最佳时光便是晚餐了。吃的并不算太好，但至少品种丰富，所以那便是侏儒接下来要去的地方。他解决他三餐的厨房是个狭小的不太舒服的场所，有着将高一点的旅客置于随时碰头危险的过低的天花板，而那些高大的炎之手的奴隶士兵看起来尤其可能发生这类危险。虽然提利昂对那番景象窃笑一番，他还是喜欢独自进餐。坐在一个挤满了人的桌上听着和你不说一种语言的人们玩笑交谈却什么也听不懂，这很快就让人厌烦了。尤其当他发现那些玩笑和嘲笑似乎都指向他。
The best part of each evening was supper. The food was not especially good, but it was plentiful, so that was where the dwarf went next. The galley where he took his meals was a cramped and uncomfortable space, with a ceiling so low that the taller passengers were always in danger of cracking their heads, a hazard the strapping slave soldiers of the Fiery Hand seemed particularly prone to. As much as Tyrion enjoyed sniggering at that, he had come to prefer taking his meals alone. Sitting at a crowded table with men who did not share a common language with you, listening to them talk and jape whilst understanding none of it, had quickly grown wearisome. Particularly since he always found himself wondering if the japes and laughter were directed at him.
厨房也是船上的书本的所在之处。她的船长是个特别好学的人，她载着三本——一套优劣不等的海员诗歌集，一本可以令人竖起大拇指的关于一个年轻奴隶女孩在里斯枕头房里的情色冒险的砖头书，还有《元老百利科的一生》的第四和最终卷，这是个著名的瓦兰提斯爱国者，他战无不胜的东征西讨的连任期在巨人吃掉他后戛然终止。在出海的第三天提利昂就读完了它们，接下来由于缺乏其他书本，他只好在又拿起他们重读。奴隶女孩的故事是写的最糟糕但同时却最引人入胜，他一边解决他的晚餐——黄油甜菜，冷炖鱼，还有能用来钉钉子的饼干——一边将它读完。
The galley was also where the ship’s books were kept. Her captain being an especially bookish man, she carried three—a collection of nautical poetry that went from bad to worse, a well-thumbed tome about the erotic adventures of a young slave girl in a Lysene pillow house, and the fourth and final volume of The Life of the Triarch Belicho, a famous Volantene patriot whose unbroken succession of conquests and triumphs ended rather abruptly when he was eaten by giants. Tyrion had finished them all by their third day at sea. Then, for lack of any other books, he started reading them again. The slave girl’s story was the worst written but the most engrossing, and that was the one he took down this evening to see him through a supper of buttered beets, cold fish stew, and biscuits that could have been used to drive nails.
佩妮进来厨房时，他正在读女孩描述关于她和她的妹妹被奴隶贩子抓走那天的事。“哦，”她说，“我想……我不是有意打扰大人的，我……”
He was reading the girl’s account of the day she and her sister were taken by slavers when Penny entered the galley. “Oh,” she said, “I thought … I did not mean to disturb m’lord, I …”
“你没有打扰我。希望你也不会试图再杀了我。”
“You are not disturbing me. You’re not going to try to kill me again, I hope.”
“不。”她避开眼，脸红了。
“No.” She looked away, her face reddening.
“若那样的话，我希望有人作陪。这船上东西少得很。”提利昂合上书。“来吧，坐下来，吃点东西。”女孩最近对留在她舱位门外的餐饭纹丝未动。现在她一定饿坏了。“炖菜还是差不多能下口的，而鱼至少很新鲜。”
“In that case, I would welcome some company. There’s little enough aboard this ship.” Tyrion closed the book. “Come. Sit. Eat.” The girl had left most of her meals untouched outside her cabin door. By now she must be starving. “The stew is almost edible. The fish is fresh, at least.”
“不，我……我曾经被鱼刺卡住过，我不会吃鱼。”
“No, I … I choked on a fish bone once, I can’t eat fish.”
