《第五人格》冠军专属随从Wolves·2021，

冰与火之歌双语阅读20——Tyrion：把弱点变成自己的武器

【读你所爱，呵护你的心灵；掌握英语，打开你的第三只眼】

【在Winterfell城堡那巨大的石头迷宫里的某个地方，有一只狼在嚎叫。狼嚎声就像是一首挽歌盘旋在城堡的上空。

Tyrion Lannister从他的书中抬起头来。尽管图书馆里又温暖又舒适，他还是打了一个冷战。狼的嚎叫声中有某种东西，它能把一个人的思绪从他的此时此刻带走，让他陷于一片漆黑的思想森林之中，仿佛自己正赤身裸体地被一群狼追赶一般。】

【Somewhere in the great stone maze of Winterfell, a wolf howled. The sound hung over the castle like a flag of mourning.

Tyrion Lannister looked up from his books and shivered, though the library was snug and warm. Something about the howling of a wolf took a man right out of his here and now and left him in a dark forest of the mind, running naked before the pack. 】

【本节导读】

记得《冰与火之歌》的作者是这样来评论Tyrion Lannister的：“在我最早的想法中，Tyrion是一个十恶不赦的恶魔的。然而，却是他给了我救赎的希望。你只有看见了自己心中的恶魔，你才会去想要打败它；当你看不见它的时候，你最终往往会被恶魔所淹没。”

Tyrion Lannister 是Casterly Rock 城堡Lannister家族中Tywin领主最小的儿子。他的龙凤胎哥哥姐姐是Cersei (当今的王后)和Jaime Lannister, 一名长相英俊，人称“弑王者”的前国王近卫队骑士。Tyrion虽然出生在权力庞大的贵族家庭，却是一个丑陋的畸形侏儒（美剧中的形象已经被美化许多了），而他的母亲也在生他的时候死去，因此他从一出生就背负着自己的原罪。他在一生中都在用自己的智慧来克服这个世界对他身体的偏见，思想的偏见，他需要重新找到或是塑造“我是谁”。如果说这个世界给了Tyrion太多的黑暗，书籍不仅使他有了保护自己的武器，也使他找到了拯救自己的出路。Tyrion说过这样一句话：人的思想需要书籍，就像是宝剑需要磨刀石才能够保持锋利一样。

Tyrion 还懂得了：“永远不要忘记你的身份，因为这个世界是肯定不会忘记你是个私生子的。把它变成你的力量。这样它就再也不会成为你的弱点。把它变成保护你的盔甲，这样就再也没有人能够用它来伤害你了。”

Tyrion 把弱点变成自己武器的方法就是懂得“自嘲”。

在Joffrey 继王位不久死后，Tyrion Lannister 被作为凶手推上了审判台。他这样为自己辩护：

【我所犯的最大的罪就是：我是一个侏儒。】

他的父亲回答说：【你可不是因为侏儒的原因而站上审判台的。】

Tyrion 回答说：【得了吧，我这一辈子都因为我是侏儒而在接受所有人的审判！】

看过美剧《权力的游戏》的人有谁知道，Joffrey 究竟是被谁杀的呢？

【刘博士译文】

冰与火之歌系列：

第一部：《权力的游戏》

Tyrion

在Winterfell城堡那巨大的石头迷宫里的某个地方，有一只狼在嚎叫。狼嚎声就像是一首挽歌盘旋在城堡的上空。

Tyrion Lannister从他的书中抬起头来。尽管图书馆里又温暖又舒适，他还是打了一个冷战。狼的嚎叫声中有某种东西，它能把一个人的思绪从他的此时此刻带走，让他陷于一片漆黑的思想森林之中，仿佛自己正赤身裸体地被一群狼追赶一般。

当那只巨狼的嚎叫再次响起时，Tyrion合上了那本他正在阅读的书那厚重的皮革封面。那是一位在一百年前就已仙去的博士所做的有关季节变化的论著。Tyrion用手背抑制住自己的哈欠。他桌上的油灯微弱地闪动着，灯油几乎已经燃尽，而拂晓的阳光正从高高的窗户中照射进来。Tyrion一整夜都在读这本书，不过这也算不上什么新鲜事。他本就不是一个喜欢睡觉的人。

当他慢慢地从长凳上起身时，他的双腿又僵硬又酸痛。他揉搓着自己的腿，直到它们重新有了知觉，然后一瘸一拐地走到了正在轻声打鼾的牧师桌前，牧师的头枕在面前一本翻开的书上。Tyrion瞥了一眼书的标题：《大博士Aethelmure传记》。难怪他会睡着。“Chayle，”Tyrion轻声叫道。年轻的牧师一下子惊醒过来，他眨巴着眼睛，一脸的疑惑，他脖子上的银项链上那一颗代表牧师身份的水晶石剧烈地晃动着。“我要去吃早饭了。你一定要把这本书放回书架上去。你还得小心爱护你那本书，那可是Valyria古城的古卷轴，它的羊皮纸很脆的。书中关于Myrmidon的战争机械的介绍是非常罕见的，你那本书是我见过的唯一一本全本。”Chayle目瞪口呆地看着Tyrion，依旧是一副没有睡醒的样子。Tyrion于是耐心地把话又重复了一遍，然后拍了拍牧师的肩膀，留下他去干他该干的事了。

Tyrion走出图书馆，他深深地吸了一口早晨那冷冷的空气，然后开始费劲地走下那陡峭的石头台阶。台阶是沿着图书馆塔楼的外墙盘旋而建的。由于台阶又高又窄，而他的腿又短又是罗圈腿，Tyrion走得很慢。初生的太阳还没有爬上Winterfell的城墙，然而在下面的院子里，人们早已经忙碌了起来。Sandor Clegane那嘶哑的声音传到了他的耳边，“那孩子挺了那么久还没死。我真希望他能早一些了结。”

Tyrion低头看去，“猎狗”（Sandor Clegane的外号）正站在小王子Joffrey身边，一群随从围在他们周围。“至少他可以安安静静地死，”王子回答到。“倒是那只狼太吵了。我昨晚几乎没怎么睡着。”

Clegane的随从将他那黑色的头盔戴在他的头上，他那高大的身躯在结实的泥地上投下了长长的影子。他掀开面罩说道，“如果你高兴的话，我可以让这个畜生闭嘴，”他的随从把一柄长剑递到他的手里。他试了试剑的重量，然后在清晨的冷风中挥舞了一下。在他的身后，院子里是一片刀剑相击的叮当声。

他这个主意似乎让王子高兴了起来。“派一只狗去杀另外一只狗！”他叫了起来。“Winterfell城里的狼都已经成灾了，少那么一只狼，Stark家的人是不会注意到的。”

Tyrion跳下最后一级台阶，走到了院子里。“恕我不敢苟同，侄子，”他说，“Stark家里的人是能够数清六以上的数字的，不像我所知道的一些王子，他们可是数不清楚的。”

Joffrey至少还知道脸红。

Sandor说话了，“从哪儿传来的声音？”他透过头盔东看看，西看看。“是空气的精灵！”

王子大笑起来，每当他的保镖做出这种滑稽的闹剧时，总是会让他大笑不已。Tyrion早已习惯他这一套了。“往底下这边看。”

高个的Clegane低头往地上巡视，假装这才看见了他。“原来是小主人Tyrion，”他说，“请原谅，我没看见你在那儿。”

“我今天没心情收拾你这个无礼的家伙。”Tyrion转向他的侄子。“Joffrey，你早就该去拜访Eddard领主和他的夫人了，去向他们表示你的同情。”

Joffrey一脸桀骜不驯的模样，那是一种没长大的王子才会有的桀骜不驯。“我安慰他们又有什么好处？”

“没有好处，”Tyrion说,“但这是你作为王子应该做的事情。你要是不去的话，人们都会注意到的。”

Joffrey说：“Stark家的孩子算个什么东西？况且我也受不了女人的哭哭啼啼。”

Tyrion Lannister伸手就给了他侄子一记狠狠的耳光。男孩的脸颊开始红了起来。

Tyrion说，“你要是再说一句， 我还会再给你一巴掌。”

“我要去告诉妈妈！”Joffrey大声叫着。

Tyrion又给了他一巴掌。他现在两边的脸颊都红了起来。

“你去给你妈告状吧，”Tyrion对他说，“但是首先，你要去到Stark领主和他的夫人那里，然后在他们面前跪下，告诉他们，你是多么为他们感到难过；在这个痛苦的时刻，如果他们有任何需要，即使是小小的需要，你也乐意为他们效劳；你还要说，你会与他们一起祈祷的。你明白吗？明白吗？”

Joffrey这孩子似乎就要哭出声来。可他并没有，而是勉强地点了点头。然后，他转过身，两手捂着自己的面颊，头也不回地跑出了庭院。Tyrion看着他离开。

一道阴影落在了他的脸上。Tyrion转身，看见Clegane站在他面前，高大得就像是一道悬崖一般。他那乌黑的盔甲似乎把阳光都遮挡住了。他已经放下了他头盔上的面罩。他的头盔被打造成一条咆哮的黑色猎狗模样，看起来狰狞可怕，但是Tyrion 一直觉得，这比起Clegane那张被烧得丑陋无比的脸来说，看起来已经好多了。

“我的小主人，王子会记住这事的，”猎狗警告他。他的笑声在头盔里变成了空洞的嗡嗡声。

“我希望他会记住，”Tyrion Lannister回答道。“如果他忘记的话，你要做一条好狗，要提醒他。”Tyrion环顾了一圈院子，又问，“你知道我的哥哥在哪儿吗？”

“他和王后一起在吃早餐。”

“噢，”Tyrion回答道。他草草地向Sandor Clegane点了下头，然后一边吹着口哨，一边用他那双罗圈腿能够走得最快的步伐快步走开了。他想，今天要是哪个骑士招惹猎狗的话，那可就倒霉了。猎犬这家伙一旦发起脾气来，他的脾气可是出了名的。

在客房的早餐厅里，早餐已经布置妥当，那是一顿冰冷而无趣的早餐。Jaime与Ceisei和孩子们都坐在桌旁，低声交谈着。

“Robert还没起床吗？”Tyrion一边问着，一边不请自来地坐在了他们身旁的桌子边。

他的姐姐Ceisei瞥了Tyrion一眼，她的脸上依旧带着那种自从Tyrion出生之日起就有的隐隐的憎恶之情。“国王昨晚儿根本就没有回来睡觉，”她告诉Tyrion,“他一直和Eddard领主在一起。他对Stark一家的不幸还真是感同身受啊。”

“我们的Robert国王有一颗宽大仁慈的心。”Jaime带着一副懒洋洋的笑容说道。Jaime是一个玩世不恭的家伙。Tyrion很了解他哥哥这一点，因此并不在意他的态度。在Tyrion那漫长而不幸的童年岁月里，只有哥哥Jaime对他曾有过那么一点点的爱护或是尊重，为此Tyrion愿意原谅他的一切。

一名佣人走了过来。“给我来份面包，”Tyrion对他说到，“再来两条这样的小鱼，再来一杯那种上好的，可以下饭的黑啤酒，对了，再来点熏肉，给我烤得焦一点。”佣人鞠了一躬，走开了。Tyrion又转向他的哥哥姐姐。他们是龙凤双胞胎。他们今天早上看上去尤其相像。两人都穿着与他们眼睛颜色相配的深绿色衣服。他们那金色的卷发都梳理成当下时髦的披肩发型，他们的手腕上、手指上和脖子上也都戴着闪亮的金首饰。

Tyrion很想知道有一个双胞胎兄弟会是怎样的感觉，不过他转念一想，还是不知道为好。他自己每天在镜子面对自己的时候感觉已经够糟的了。要是再有一个长得像他一样的人的话，这个想法简直太可怕了。

Tommen王子的话打断了他的思绪：“叔叔，你有什么Bran的最新消息吗？”

“我昨晚去了一趟他的病房，”Tyrion大声说到，“还是老样子。不过博士觉得这倒是一个好的迹象。”

“我不想Brandon死掉，”Tommen略带胆怯地说。Tommen是个招人喜欢的孩子。他不像他的哥哥Joffrey，不过Jaime和Tyrion就更不像是一个妈妈生出来的了。

“Eddard领主曾有一个哥哥也叫Brandon，”Jaime想了起来，“他也是被Targaryen所杀的人质之一。看起来这是一个不吉利的名字。”

“哦，当然不会这么不吉利，”Tyrion回答道。佣人端来了他的早餐盘，他撕下一大块黑面包。

Cersei警惕地看着Tyrion。“你这是什么意思？”

Tyrion用他那畸形的脸对姐姐微笑了一下。“这有什么奇怪的，只不过Tommen的愿望有可能实现罢了。博士认为这孩子有可能活下来。”他抿了一口啤酒。

Myrcella 公主高兴地惊叫了一声，Tommen也拘束地笑了一下，但是Tyrion的眼睛并没有落在小孩子们身上。Jaime和Cersei相互交换了一下眼神，虽然这只是一瞬间的动作，但这并没有逃过Tyrion的眼睛。他的姐姐立刻将目光落在餐桌上。“这算不上是老天慈悲。北方的众神对那些不幸的孩子是很残忍的。”

“博士是怎么说的？”Jaime问道。

Tyrion拿了一片熏肉放进嘴里咯吱咯吱地嚼了一阵，一副若有所思的样子。过了一会，他说：“博士认为，如果这个孩子会死的话，他早就已经死了。可现在已经四天了，他一点变化也没有。”

“Bran会好起来吗，叔叔？”小Myrcella公主问。她继承了她母亲的所有美貌，却丝毫没有继承她的秉性。

“他的背给摔断了，小公主，”Tyrion告诉她，“那一摔还把他的双腿也摔断了。现在大家一直在给他喂蜂蜜和水，要不然他也会饿死的。也许，如果他苏醒过来的话，他还能吃真正的食物，但是他再也不能走路了。”

“如果他苏醒过来的话，”Cersei重复着，“这有可能吗？”

“只有众神才会知道，”Tyrion回答说，“博士只是希望如此而已。”他继续嚼着面包，“我敢发誓，是那只狼让这个孩子活下来的。那个家伙一直待在他的房间窗外，没日没夜地嚎叫。每次人们把它赶走，它又会返回来。博士说，他们有一次关上了窗户，想让屋里安静一点，可是Bran似乎立刻就不行了。当他们把窗户打开以后，他的心跳才又变得有劲了一点。”

王后打了一个冷战，“这些动物简直太不正常了，”她说。“它们太危险了。我是不会让任何一只狼跟着我们去南方的。”

Jaime说道：“要想阻止他们可不容易，姐姐。那两个女孩子的狼随时随地都跟着她们呢。”

Tyrion一边开始吃他的鱼，一边说，“这么说，你们准备很快就要走了吗？”

“要能再早一点就更好了，”Ceisei说道。不过这时，她的眉头一皱，“你说我们准备要走？”她重复着Tyrion刚才那句话，然后问道，“那你呢？天哪，别告诉我你还要呆在这儿？”

Tyrion耸了耸肩，“Benjen Stark准备带着他兄弟的私生子一起回黑夜守护营。我倒想和他们一起走，去看看那座我们早有耳闻的长墙。”

Jaime笑了起来。“我亲爱的弟弟，你不会是想代表我们加入黑夜守护营吧？”

Tyrion大笑起来，“什么，你是说我吗，去过洁身禁欲的生活？那样的话，南南北北的窑子里的女人都会来求我别去的。不是的，我只是想站在长墙的顶上，然后朝着世界的尽头撒泡尿而已。”

Cersei猛地站了起来，“没有必要让孩子们听到这些脏话。Tommen，Myrcella，跟我来。”她快步地走出早餐间，她的裙裾在身后飘荡，她的孩子们也紧跟在她的身后。

Jaime Lannister用他那双冷冷的绿眼睛若有所思地看着他的兄弟，然后说，“如果Stark的儿子一直这样半死不活的话，他是绝对不会同意离开Winterfell的。”

“如果Robert下命令的话，他会的，”Tyrion说。“而且Robert也会下命令的。不管怎么说，Stark领主现在也帮不了他的孩子什么忙。”

“他可以帮助他的孩子结束痛苦，”Jaime说,“如果这是我的儿子的话，我会这么做的。这会是仁慈之举。”

Tyrion说：“我建议你不要向Eddard领主提这件事，亲爱的兄弟，他可不会感激你的好意的。”

Jaime说：“即使这个孩子能够活下来，他也会是个瘸子，甚至比瘸子还要糟糕，他会是个怪物。我宁愿死得干脆利落。”

Tyrion耸了耸肩，这使得他那扭曲的上半身显得更加畸形。他说，“说到怪物的话，我倒是不敢苟同。人要是死了的话就彻底玩完了，只有活着才会有各种可能性。”

Jaime笑了,“你真是一个变态的小侏儒，不是吗？”

“哦，我是，”Tyrion承认道，“我只希望这孩子能苏醒过来。我更感兴趣的是想听听他会说出什么来。”

Jaime的笑容凝固了，就像是牛奶变质凝固了一般，他阴着脸说道，“Tyrion，我亲爱的弟弟，有时候你真会让我怀疑，你究竟是站在哪一边的。”

Tyrion正大口地吃着面包和鱼。他喝了一大口浓烈的黑啤酒，把嘴里的东西都一股脑地咽了下去，然后他看着Jaime,脸上露出了狼一般的笑容来，“这还用说吗，Jaime，我亲爱的哥哥，你真让我伤心。你知道我是多爱我们这个家。”

【英语文本】

A Song of Ice and Fire

Book 1: Game of Thrones

Tyrion

Somewhere in the great stone maze of Winterfell, a wolf howled. The sound hung over the castle like a flag of mourning.

Tyrion Lannister looked up from his books and shivered, though the library was snug and warm. Something about the howling of a wolf took a man right out of his here and now and left him in a dark forest of the mind, running naked before the pack.

When the direwolf howled again, Tyrion shut the heavy leatherbound cover on the book he was reading, a hundred year-old discourse on the changing of the seasons by a long-dead maester. He covered a yawn with the back of his hand. His reading lamp was flickering, its oil all but gone, as dawn light leaked through the high windows. He had been at it all night, but that was nothing new. Tyrion Lannister was not much a one for sleeping.

His legs were stiff and sore as he eased down off the bench. He massaged some life back into them and limped heavily to the table where the septon was snoring softly, his head pillowed on an open book in front of him. Tyrion glanced at the title. A life of the Grand Maester Aethelmure, no wonder. “Chayle,” he said softly. The young man jerked up, blinking, confused, the crystal of his order swinging wildly on its silver chain. “I’m off to break my fast. See that you return the books to the shelves. Be gentle with the Valyrian scrolls, the parchment is very dry. Myrmidon’s Engines of War is quite rare, and yours is the only complete copy I’ve ever seen.” Chayle gaped at him, still half asleep. Patiently, Tyrion repeated his instructions, then clapped the septon on the shoulder and left him to his tasks.

Outside, Tyrion swallowed a lungful of the cold morning air and began his laborious descent of the steep stone steps that corkscrewed around the exterior of the library tower. It was slow going; the steps were cut high and narrow, while his legs were short and twisted. The rising sun had not yet cleared the walls of Winterfell, but the men were already hard at it in the yard below. Sandor Clegane’s rasping voice drifted up to him. “The boy is a long time dying. I wish he would be quicker about it.”

Tyrion glanced down and saw the Hound standing with young Joffrey as squires swarmed around them. “At least he dies quietly,” the prince replied. “It’s the wolf that makes the noise. I could scarce sleep last night.”

Clegane cast a long shadow across the hard-packed earth as his squire lowered the black helm over his head. “I could silence the creature, if it please you,” he said through his open visor. His boy placed a longsword in his hand. He tested the weight of it, slicing at the cold morning air. Behind him, the yard rang to the clangor of steel on steel.

The notion seemed to delight the prince. “Send a dog to kill a dog!” he exclaimed. “Winterfell is so infested with wolves, the Starks would never miss one.”

Tyrion hopped off the last step onto the yard. “I beg to differ, nephew,” he said. “The Starks can count past six. Unlike some princes I might name.”

Joffrey had the grace at least to blush.

“A voice from nowhere,” Sandor said. He peered through his helm, looking this way and that. “Spirits of the air!”

The prince laughed, as he always laughed when his bodyguard did this mummer’s farce. Tyrion was used to it. “Down here.”

The tall man peered down at the ground, and pretended to notice him. “The little lord Tyrion,” he said. “My pardons. I did not see you standing there.”

“I am in no mood for your insolence today.” Tyrion turned to his nephew. “Joffrey, it is past time you called on Lord Eddard and his lady, to offer them your comfort.”

Joffrey looked as petulant as only a boy prince can look. “What good will my comfort do them?” “None,” Tyrion said. “Yet it is expected of you. Your absence has been noted.”

“The Stark boy is nothing to me,” Joffrey said. “I cannot abide the wailing of women.”

Tyrion Lannister reached up and slapped his nephew hard across the face. The boy’s cheek began to redden.

“One word,” Tyrion said, “and I will hit you again.” “I’m going to tell Mother!” Joffrey exclaimed. Tyrion hit him again. Now both cheeks flamed.

“You tell your mother,” Tyrion told him. “But first you get yourself to Lord and Lady Stark, and you fall to your knees in front of them, and you tell them how very sorry you are, and that you are at their service if there is the slightest thing you can do for them or theirs in this desperate hour, and that all your prayers go with them. Do you understand? Do you?”

The boy looked as though he was going to cry. Instead, he managed a weak nod. Then he turned and fled headlong from the yard, holding his cheek. Tyrion watched him run.

A shadow fell across his face. He turned to find Clegane looming overhead like a cliff. His soot-dark armor seemed to blot out the sun. He had lowered the visor on his helm. It was fashioned in the likeness of a snarling black hound, fearsome to behold, but Tyrion had always thought it a great improvement over Clegane’s hideously burned face.

“The prince will remember that, little lord,” the Hound warned him. The helm turned his laugh into a hollow rumble.

“I pray he does,” Tyrion Lannister replied. “If he forgets, be a good dog and remind him.” He glanced around the courtyard. “Do you know where I might find my brother?”

“Breaking fast with the queen.”

“Ah,” Tyrion said. He gave Sandor Clegane a perfunctory nod and walked away as briskly as his stunted legs would carry him, whistling. He pitied the first knight to try the Hound today. The man did have a temper.

A cold, cheerless meal had been laid out in the morning room of the Guest House. Jaime sat at table with Cersei and the children, talking in low, hushed voices.

“Is Robert still abed?” Tyrion asked as he seated himself, uninvited, at the table.

His sister peered at him with the same expression of faint distaste she had worn since the day he was born. “The king has not slept at all,” she told him. “He is with Lord Eddard. He has taken their sorrow deeply to heart.”

“He has a large heart, our Robert,” Jaime said with a lazy smile. There was very little that Jaime took seriously. Tyrion knew that about his brother, and forgave it. During all the terrible long years of his childhood, only Jaime had ever shown him the smallest measure of affection or respect, and for that Tyrion was willing to forgive him most anything.

A servant approached. “Bread,” Tyrion told him, “and two of those little fish, and a mug of that good dark beer to wash them down. Oh, and some bacon. Burn it until it turns black.” The man bowed and moved off. Tyrion turned back to his siblings. Twins, male and female. They looked very much the part this morning. Both had chosen a deep green that matched their eyes. Their blond curls were all a fashionable tumble, and gold ornaments shone at wrists and fingers and throats.

Tyrion wondered what it would be like to have a twin, and decided that he would rather not know. Bad enough to face himself in a looking glass every day. Another him was a thought too dreadful to contemplate.

Prince Tommen spoke up. “Do you have news of Bran, Uncle?”

“I stopped by the sickroom last night,” Tyrion announced. “There was no change. The maester thought that a hopeful sign.”

“I don’t want Brandon to die,” Tommen said timorously. He was a sweet boy. Not like his brother, but then Jaime and Tyrion were somewhat less than peas in a pod themselves.

“Lord Eddard had a brother named Brandon as well,” Jaime mused. “One of the hostages murdered by Targaryen. It seems to be an unlucky name.”

“Oh, not so unlucky as all that, surely,” Tyrion said. The servant brought his plate. He ripped off a chunk of black bread.

Cersei was studying him warily. “What do you mean?”

Tyrion gave her a crooked smile. “Why, only that Tommen may get his wish. The maester thinks the boy may yet live.” He took a sip of beer.

Myrcella gave a happy gasp, and Tommen smiled nervously, but it was not the children Tyrion was watching. The glance that passed between Jaime and Cersei lasted no more than a second, but he did not miss it. Then his sister dropped her gaze to the table. “That is no mercy. These northern gods are cruel to let the child linger in such pain.”

“What were the maester’s words?” Jaime asked.

The bacon crunched when he bit into it. Tyrion chewed thoughtfully for a moment and said, “He thinks that if the boy were going to die, he would have done so already. It has been four days with no change.”

“Will Bran get better, Uncle?” little Myrcella asked. She had all of her mother’s beauty, and none of her nature.

“His back is broken, little one,” Tyrion told her. “The fall shattered his legs as well. They keep him alive with honey and water, or he would starve to death. Perhaps, if he wakes, he will be able to eat real food, but he will never walk again.”

“If he wakes,” Cersei repeated. “Is that likely?”

“The gods alone know,” Tyrion told her. “The maester only hopes.” He chewed some more bread. “I would swear that wolf of his is keeping the boy alive. The creature is outside his window day and night, howling. Every time they chase it away, it returns. The maester said they closed the window once, to shut out the noise, and Bran seemed to weaken. When they opened it again, his heart beat stronger.”

The queen shuddered. “There is something unnatural about those animals,” she said. “They are dangerous. I will not have any of them coming south with us.”

Jaime said, “You’ll have a hard time stopping them, sister. They follow those girls everywhere.” Tyrion started on his fish. “Are you leaving soon, then?”

“Not near soon enough,” Cersei said. Then she frowned. “Are we leaving?” she echoed. “What about you? Gods, don’t tell me you are staying here?”

Tyrion shrugged. “Benjen Stark is returning to the Night’s Watch with his brother’s bastard. I have a mind to go with them and see this Wall we have all heard so much of.”

Jaime smiled. “I hope you’re not thinking of taking the black on us, sweet brother.”

Tyrion laughed. “What, me, celibate? The whores would go begging from Dorne to Casterly Rock. No, I just want to stand on top of the Wall and piss off the edge of the world.”

Cersei stood abruptly. “The children don’t need to hear this filth. Tommen, Myrcella, come.” She strode briskly from the morning room, her train and her pups trailing behind her.

Jaime Lannister regarded his brother thoughtfully with those cool green eyes. “Stark will never consent to leave Winterfell with his son lingering in the shadow of death.”

“He will if Robert commands it,” Tyrion said. “And Robert will command it. There is nothing Lord Eddard can do for the boy in any case.”

“He could end his torment,” Jaime said. “I would, if it were my son. It would be a mercy.” “I advise against putting that suggestion to Lord Eddard, sweet brother,” Tyrion said. “He would

not take it kindly.”

“Even if the boy does live, he will be a cripple. Worse than a cripple. A grotesque. Give me a good clean death.”

Tyrion replied with a shrug that accentuated the twist of his shoulders. “Speaking for the grotesques,” he said, “I beg to differ. Death is so terribly final, while life is full of possibilities.”

Jaime smiled. “You are a perverse little imp, aren’t you?”

“Oh, yes,” Tyrion admitted. “I hope the boy does wake. I would be most interested to hear what he might have to say.”

His brother’s smile curdled like sour milk. “Tyrion, my sweet brother,” he said darkly, “there are times when you give me cause to wonder whose side you are on.”

Tyrion’s mouth was full of bread and fish. He took a swallow of strong black beer to wash it all down, and grinned up wolfishly at Jaime, “Why, Jaime, my sweet brother,” he said, “you wound me. You know how much I love my family.”