grrm.thehedgeknight-第5部分

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wn。　The　line　of　the　dragonkings　had　almost　died　out　during　his　father's　day；　but　it　was　monly　said　that　Daeron　II　and　his　sons　had　left　it　secure　for　all　time。
　〃You。　Man。　You　asked　for　me。〃　Lord　Ashford's　master　of　horse　had　a　red　face　made　redder　by　his　orange　livery；　and　a　brusque　manner　of　speaking。　〃What　is　it？　I　have　no　time　for…〃
　〃I　want　to　sell　this　palfrey；〃　Dunk　broke　in　quickly；　before　the　man　could　dismiss　him。　〃She's　a　good　horse；　sure　of　foot…〃
　〃I　have　no　time；　I　tell　you。〃　The　man　gave　Sweetfoot　no　more　than　a　glance。　〃My　lord　of　Ashford　has　no　need　of　such。　Take　her　to　the　town；　perhaps　Henly　will　give　you　a　silver　or　three。〃　That　quick；　he　was　turning　away。
　〃Thank　you；　m'lord；〃　Dunk　said　before　he　could　go。　〃M'lord；　has　the　king　e？〃
　The　master　of　horse　laughed　at　him。　〃No；　thank　the　gods。　This　infestation　of　princes　is　trial　enough。　Where　am　I　going　to　find　the　stalls　for　all　these　animals？　And　fodder？〃　He　strode　off　shouting　at　his　stableboys。
　By　the　time　Dunk　left　the　stable；　Lord　Ashford　had　escorted　his　princely　guests　into　the　hail；　but　two　of　the　Kingsguard　knights　in　their　white　armor　and　snowy　cloaks　still　lingered　in　the　yard；　talking　with　the　captain　of　the　guard。　Dunk　halted　before　them。　〃M'lords；　I　am　Ser　Duncan　the　Tall。〃
　〃Well　met；　Ser　Duncan；〃　answered　the　bigger　of　the　white　knights。　〃I　am　Ser　Roland　Crakehall；　and　this　is　my　Sworn　Brother；　Ser　Donnel　of　Duskendale。〃
　The　seven　champions　of　the　Kingsguard　were　the　most　puissant　warriors　in　all　the　Seven　Kingdoms；　saving　only　perhaps　the　crown　prince；　Baelor　Breakspear　himself。　〃Have　you　e　to　enter　the　lists？〃　Dunk　asked　anxiously。
　〃It　would　not　be　fitting　for　us　to　ride　against　those　we　are　sworn　to　protect；〃　answered　Ser　Donnel；　red　of　hair　and　beard。
　〃Prince　Valarr　has　the　honor　to　be　one　of　Lady　Ashford's　champions；〃　explained　Ser　Roland；　〃and　two　of　his　cousins　mean　to　challenge。　The　rest　of　us　have　e　only　to　watch。〃
　Relieved；　Dunk　thanked　the　white　knights　for　their　kindness；　and　rode　out　through　the　castle　gates　before　another　prince　should　think　to　accost　him。　Three　princelings；　he　pondered　as　he　turned　the　palfrey　toward　the　streets　of　Ashford　town。　Valarr　was　the　eldest　son　of　Prince　Baelor；　second　in　line　to　the　Iron　Throne；　but　Dunk　did　not　know　how　much　of　his　father's　fabled　prowess　with　lance　and　sword　he　might　have　inherited。　About　the　other　Targaryen　princes　he　knew　even　less。　What　will　I　do　if　I　have　to　ride　against　a　prince？　Will　I　even　be　allowed　to　challenge　one　so　highborn？　He　did　not　know　the　answer。　The　old　man　had　often　said　he　was　thick　as　a　castle　wall；　and　just　now　he　felt　it。
　
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　Henly　liked　the　look　of　Sweetfoot　well　enough　until　he　heard　Dunk　wanted　to　sell　her。　Then　all　the　stableman　could　see　in　her　were　faults。　He　offered　three　hundred　silvers。　Dunk　said　he　must　have　three　thousand。　After　much　arguing　and　cursing；　they　settled　at　seven　hundred　fifty　silver　stags。　That　was　a　deal　closer　to　Henly's　starting　price　than　to　Dunk's；　which　made　him　feel　the　loser　in　the　tilt；　but　the　stableman　would　go　no　higher；　so　in　the　end　he　had　no　choice　but　to　yield。　A　second　argument　began　when　Dunk　declared　that　the　price　did　not　include　the　saddle；　and　Henly　insisted　that　it　had。
　Finally　it　was　all　settled。　As　Henly　left　to　fetch　his　coin；　Dunk　stroked　Sweetfoot's　mane　and　told　her　to　be　brave。　〃If　I　win；　I'll　e　back　and　buy　you　again；　I　promise。〃　He　had　no　doubt　that　all　the　palfrey's　flaws　would　vanish　in　the　intervening　days；　and　she　would　be　worth　twice　what　she　was　today。
　The　stableman　gave　him　three　gold　pieces　and　the　rest　in　silver。　Dunk　bit　one　of　the　gold　coins　and　smiled。　He　had　never　tasted　gold　before；　nor　handled　it。　〃Dragons；〃　men　called　the　coins；　since　they　were　stamped　with　the　three…headed　dragon　of　House　Targaryen　on　one　side。　The　other　bore　the　likeness　of　the　king。　Two　of　the　coins　Henly　gave　him　had　King　Daeron's　face；　the　third　was　older；　well　worn；　and　showed　a　different　man。　His　name　was　there　under　his　head；　but　Dunk　could　not　read　the　letters。　Gold　had　been　shaved　off　its　edges　too；　he　saw。　He　pointed　this　out　to　Henly；　and　loudly。　The　stableman　grumbled；　but　handed　over　another　few　silvers　and　a　fistful　of　coppers　to　make　up　the　weight。　Dunk　handed　a　few　of　the　coppers　right　back；　and　nodded　at　Sweetfoot。　〃That's　for　her；〃　he　said。　〃See　that　she　has　some　Oats　tonight。　Aye；　and　an　apple　too。〃
　With　the　shield　on　his　arm　and　the　sack　of　old　armor　slung　over　his　shoulder；　Dunk　set　out　on　foot　through　the　sunny　streets　of　Ashford　town。　The　heft　of　all　that　coin　in　his　pouch　made　him　feel　queer；　almost　giddy　on　one　hand；　and　anxious　on　the　other。　The　old　man　had　never　trusted　him　with　more　than　a　coin　or　two　at　a　time。　He　could　live　a　year　on　this　much　money。　And　what　will　I　do　when　it's　gone；　sell　Thunder？　That　road　ended　in　beggary　or　outlawry。　This　chance　will　never　e　again；　I　must　risk　all。
　By　the　time　he　splashed　back　across　the　ford　to　the　south　bank　of　the　Cockleswent；　the　morning　was　almost　done　and　the　tourney　grounds　had　e　to　life　once　more。　The　winesellers　and　sausage　makers　were　doing　a　brisk　trade；　a　dancing　bear　was　shuffling　along　to　his　master's　playing　as　a　singer　sang　〃The　Bear；　the　Bear；　and　the　Maiden　Fair；〃　jugglers　were　juggling；　and　the　puppeteers　were　just　finishing　another　fight。
　Dunk　stopped　to　watch　the　wooden　dragon　slain。　When　the　puppet　knight　cut　its　head　off　and　the　red　sawdust　spilled　out　onto　the　grass；　he　laughed　aloud　and　threw　the　girl　two　coppers。　〃One　for　last　night；〃　he　called。　She　caught　the　coins　in　the　air　and　threw　him　back　a　smile　as　sweet　as　any　he　had　ever　seen。
　Is　it　me　she　smiles　at；　or　the　coins？　Dunk　had　never　been　with　a　girl；　and　they　made　him　nervous。　Once；　three　years　past；　when　the　old　man's　purse　was　full　after　half　a　year　in　the　service　of　blind　Lord　Florent；　he'd　told　Dunk　the　time　had　e　to　take　him　to　a　brothel　and　make　him　a　man。　He'd　been　drunk；　though；　and　when　he　was　sober　he　did　not　remember。　Dunk　had　been　too　embarrassed　to　remind　him。　He　was　not　certain　he　wanted　a　whore　anyway。　If　he　could　not　have　a　highborn　maiden　like　a　proper　knight；　he　wanted　one　who　at　least　liked　him　more　than　his　silver。
　〃Will　you　drink　a　horn　of　ale？〃　he　asked　the　puppet　girl　as　she　was　scooping　the　sawdust　blood　back　into　her　dragon。　〃With　me；　I　mean？　Or　a　sausage？　I　had　a　sausage　last　night；　and　it　was　good。　They're　made　with　pork；　I　think。〃
　〃I　thank　you；　m'lord；　but　we　have　another　show。〃　The　girl　rose；　and　ran　off　to　the　fierce　fat　Dornishwoman　who　worked　the　puppet　knight　while　Dunk　stood　there　feeling　stupid。　He　liked　the　way　she　ran；　though。　A　pretty　girl；　and　tall。　I　would　not　have　to　kneel　to　kiss　that　one。　He　knew　how　to　kiss。　A　tavern　girl　had　showed　him　one　night　in　Lannisport；　a　year　ago；　but　she'd　been　so　short　she　had　to　sit　on　the　table　to　reach　his　lips。　The　memory　made　his　ears　burn。　What　a　great　fool　he　was。　It　was　jousting　he　should　be　thinking　about；　not　kissing。
　Lord　Ashford's　carpenters　were　whitewashing　the　waist…high　wooden　barriers　that　would　separate　the　jousters。　Dunk　watched　them　work　awhile。　There　were　five　lanes；　arrayed　north　to　south　so　none　of　the　petitors　would　ride　with　the　sun　in　his　eyes。　A　three…tiered　viewing　stand　had　been　raised　on　the　eastern　side　of　the　lists；　with　an　orange　canopy　to　shield　the　lords　and　ladies　from　rain　and　sun。　Most　would　sit　on　benches；　but　four　high…backed　chairs　had　been　erected　in　the　center　of　the　platform；　for　Lord　Ashford；　the　fair　maid；　and　the　visiting　princes。
　On　the　eastern　verge　of　the　meadow；　a　quintain　had　been　set　up　and　a　dozen　knights　were　tilting　at　it；　sending　the　pole　arm　spinning　every　time　they　struck　the　splintered　shield　suspended　from　one　end。　Dunk　watched　the　Brute　of　Bracken　take　his　turn；　and　then　Lord　Caron　of　the　Marches。　I　do　not　have　as　good　a　seat　as　any　of　them；　he　thought　uneasily。
　Elsewhere；　men　were　training　afoot；　going　at　each　other　with　wooden　swords　while　their　squires　stood　shouting　ribald　advice。　Dunk　watched　a　stocky　youth　try　to　hold　off　a　muscular　knight　who　seemed　lithe　and　quick　as　a　mountain　cat。　Both　had　the　red　apple　of　the　Fossoways　painted　on　their　shields；　but　the　younger　man's　was　soon　hacked　and　chipped　to　pieces。　〃Here's　an　apple　that's　not　ripe　yet；〃　the　older　said　as　he　slammed　the　other's　helm。　The　younger　Fossoway　was　bruised　and　bloody　by　the　time　he　yielded；　but　his　foe　was　hardly　winded。　He　raised　his　visor；　looked　about；　saw　Dunk；　and　said；　〃You　there。　Yes；　you；　the　big　one。　Knight　of　the　winged　chalice。　Is　that　a　longsword　you　wear？〃
　〃It　is　mine　by　rights；〃　Dunk　said　defensively。　〃I　am　Ser　Duncan　the　Tall。〃
　〃And　I　Ser　Steffon　Fossoway。　Would　you　care　to　try　me；　Ser　Duncan　the　Tall？　It　would　be　good　to　have　someone　new　to　cross　swords　with。　My　cousin's　not　ripe　yet；　as　you've　seen。〃
　〃Do　it；　Ser　Duncan；〃　urged　the　beaten　Fossoway　as　he　removed　his　helm。　〃I　may　not　be　ripe；　but　my　good　cousin　is　rotten　to　the　core。　Knock　the　seeds　out　of　him。〃
　Dunk　shook　his　head。　Why　were　these　lordlings　involving　him　in　their　quarrel？　He　wanted　no　part　of　it。　〃I　thank　you；　ser；　but　I　have　matters　to　attend。〃　He　was　unfortable　carrying　so　much　coin。　The　sooner　he　paid　Steely　Pate　and　got　his　armor；　the　happier　he　would　be。
　Ser　Steffon　looked　at　him　scornfully。　〃The　hedge　knight　has　matters。〃　He　glanced　about　and　found　another　likely　opponent　loitering　nearby。　〃Ser　Grance；　well　met。　e　try　me。　I　know　every　feeble　trick　my　cousin　Raymun　has　mastered；　and　it　seems　that　Ser　Duncan　needs　to　return　to　the　hedges。　e；　e。
　Dunk　stalked　away　red…faced。　He　did　not　have　many　tricks　himself；　feeble　or　otherwise；　and　he　did　not　want　anyone　to　see　him　fight　until　the　tourney。　The　old　man　always　said　that　the　better　you　knew　your　foe；　the　easier　it　was　to　best　him。　Knights　like　Ser　Steffon　had　sharp　eyes　to　find　a　man's　weakness　at　a　glance。　Dunk　was　strong　and　quick；　and　his　weight　and　reach　were　in　his　favor；　but　he　did　not　believe　for　a　moment　that　his　skills　were　the　equal　of　these　others。　Ser　Arlan　had　taught　him　as　best　he　could；　but　the　old　man　had　never　been　the　greatest　of　knights　even　when　young。　Great　knights　did　not　live　their　lives　in　the　hedges；　or　die　by　the　side　of　a　muddy