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dully(2024dully怎么读)

来源:唯美的句子 发布时间:2024-07-30 00:46:43 点击:59次
笔墨网 > 优美的句子 > 唯美的句子 > > dully(2024dully怎么读)

读你所爱,呵护你的心灵;掌握英语,打开你的第三只眼。

“在我为Robert劳的这段时间里,你必须接替我掌管北方。Winterfell必须始终要有一个Stark家里的人。Robb十四岁了。他很快就会长大成人。他必须要学会统治,可是我没法在这里教他。你要让他成为你的顾问团的一部分。当轮到他掌管的时候,他必须要有能力掌管才行。”

“众神保佑,希望你不会离开很多年的,”Luwin博士喃喃自语道。

“Luwin博士,我信任你就像我信得过我自己的血脉一样。事无大小,都要对我妻子说出你的心里话。教我儿子学会他需要知道的事情。冬天就要来了。”

“You must govern the north in my stead, while I run Robert’s errands. There must always be a Stark in Winterfell. Robb is fourteen. Soon enough, he will be a man grown. He must learn to rule, and I will not be here for him. Make him part of your councils. He must be ready when his time comes.”

“Gods will, not for many years,” Maester Luwin murmured.

“Maester Luwin, I trust you as I would my own blood. Give my wife your voice in all things great and small. Teach my son the things he needs to know. Winter is coming.”

【本节导读】

有朋友问我,为什么不用一些简短英语知识或小故事来做双语阅读英语学习的资料。的确,这是一种我们常见的英语教育和学习方式。我们许多的英语学习爱好者也是以这种方式大量地阅读和听读各种广泛内容的英语材料来学习的。然而,我用一个学习者自己的话来回答这种学习法的问题吧:“我总是会遇到各种各样的单词和内容。当时可能记住了,但是总是记住了新单词,忘记了旧单词。”

这种英语学习法导致的循环性失忆有这样几个原因。一是这种泛读法在很多时候没有重点的知识内容,尤其是没有与我们的爱好和生活/工作紧密结合的内容。用一个类比来说,就是我们上大学的时候没有专业,始终学的是综合课程。这种结果就是一旦我们开始工作或是找到自己的爱好之后,所有无关的知识都会逐渐淡忘。大家可以反思一下,除了那些职业与数理化相关的人之外,我们还有谁记得我们中学学的那么高深的公式和知识呢?

泛读学习的第二个问题就在于,这种阅读过程中,我们所遇见的许多单词常常重复性较少,有些单词甚至是一次性出现的。记不住单词是英语学习者的主要障碍之一。当然,还有一个问题就是,当我们的英语学习和我们的爱好和生活工作无关的时候,英语真的是没有用的。我们学习英语不能坚持,不是我们的错。如果有一部我们热爱的小说或是美剧时,我们一定会爱不释手。

刘博士之所以选择《冰与火之歌》和《金星人与火星人》系列有两个主要原因。只要你有读书的习惯,或是爱好文学,你不可能不喜欢《冰与火之歌》。只要你希望自己的生活中能够有成功的爱情或是婚姻,《金星人与火星人》就一定能够给你帮助。兴趣是好的老师。有了这种兴趣,你自己还可以专注其他你爱好的、专业的原著,一定就可以坚持下去。

其次,任何一个领域的内容都会有它独特的一套词汇,而且在这个领域,这种词汇会通过反复出现的方式,使你通过反复遇见的方式自然记住这些词汇。而且,这两套书都是用当代的英语写就的,除了文学上的一些描述略微复杂之外,只要你坚持了3个月,后期的阅读几乎都是单词的重复。我说过,读完《冰与火之歌》,你可以轻松记住10000个以上的英语单词,这完全不是做梦,因为每个单词都重复了100遍。只要你有兴趣就好,就可以坚持下去。

不要把英语当作学习的目的,把英语当作探索英语文学世界或是专业领域知识这一目的工具吧。这样,你会发现,当你完全读懂了,读通顺这几本书的时候,你在掌握了知识和享受了文学经典的同时,你也实现了英语的突破。

让我们继续今天的《冰与火之歌》内容。在这一节,Ned与妻子Catelyn商量是否Ned应该接受国王的建议,让Ned去到南方做国王的首相。在英语阅读中,如果你在一开始读到太多的文学描写时,可以快进到对话部分。你会发现,其实对话的英语是很简单的。困难的是简单英语对话背后的逻辑。我的译文的作用,就是帮助大家理解对话的逻辑。等到你熟悉的英语对话的逻辑时,就会发现其实英语不难。

有一种英语学习法,叫做:读你所爱,顺便掌握英语。

【刘博士译文】

在Winterfell城堡的主城堡中所有的房间里,Catelyn的寝室是热的。她甚至都很少需要在屋里生火。城堡建在天然的温泉之上,滚烫的泉水流淌在城堡的墙壁中和各个房屋之间,就如同血液流淌在人的身体中一样,它驱走了石头大厅里的寒意,让城堡的温室花园又潮湿又温暖,让这里的泥土免受冰冻之灾。在城堡里的众多小院子里,十多个露天温泉整日整夜地冒着热气。在夏天,这算不上什么;然而在冬天,它却能起到生死攸关的作用。

Catelyn寝室的浴室总是热气腾腾的,房间的墙壁摸起来也是暖暖的。这种温暖让她想起了家乡Riverrun,想起了她与妹妹Lysa和弟弟Edmure在一起的那些阳光灿烂的日子。但是Ned总是受不了这种很热的环境。Ned会告诉Catelyn,Stark家族的人生来就是适应寒冷环境的。Catelyn总会笑着对他说,要是那样的话,Stark家族当初在修建城堡的时候一定是选错了地方。

所以,当他们温存结束后,Ned像以往次那样立刻从床上爬起来。他走到房间另一端,拉开沉重的壁毯窗帘,再将那一扇扇又高又狭长窗户打开,让夜晚的冷风吹进屋里。

风在Ned的四周盘旋,Ned站在窗前凝视着黑夜,他一丝不挂,手无寸铁。Catelyn把毛毯拉到下巴处紧紧裹着,她看着Ned。Ned现在看起来似乎矮小了许多,也脆弱了许多,仿佛又变成她15年前在Riverrun的庙堂里结婚时嫁的那个年轻人了。她的身体还因为刚才的温存而隐隐作痛,这是一种愉快的疼痛。她能感觉到自己身体里有他的种子。她祈祷着希望种子能快点发芽。自从她生下Rickon已经过去三年了。她还不太老。她可以给Ned再生一个儿子。

“我会拒绝他的,”Ned一边说着一边转过身来。他的眼神似乎着了魔一般,他的声音里满是疑虑。

Catelyn在床上坐了起来,“你拒绝不了他的,你也不要拒绝他。”

“我的责任是在北方。我可不想成为罗伯特的首相。”

“他可不会明白这一点的。他现在是国王了,国王和其他人是不一样的。如果你拒绝了为他劳的话,他就会琢磨你究竟是什么原因。迟早他都会开始怀疑你是反对他的。你难道不明白,这会让我们陷入怎样的危险吗?”

Ned摇着头,他拒绝相信这一点。“Robert不会加害于我或是我的家人的。我们可是比亲兄弟还要亲。他爱我这个兄弟。如果我拒绝他的话,他会大发雷霆、会骂人、会吓唬我,可是过不了一星期我们就会又在一起谈笑风生的。我知道这个人!”

“你曾经知道这个人,”Catelyn说。“可国王对你来说却是个陌生人。”Catelyn想起了死在雪地里的那只巨狼,它的喉咙里插着一根折断的鹿角。Catelyn必须得让Ned明白,“对于国王来说,面子就是一切,我的主人。Robert这么大老远来找你,还给你带来这么多荣誉,你是不可能把这些荣誉再丢回给他,让他觉得打脸的。”

“荣誉?”Ned苦笑道。

“在他眼里,这些就是荣誉。”她说。

“在你的眼里呢?”

“在我的眼里也是荣誉,”Catelyn大声说,她的气头上来了。为什么他就不明白呢?“他主动提出让他的儿子娶我们的女儿,这不是荣誉又是什么呢?Sansa也许有一天会成为女王的。她的儿子将来有可能统治从长墙到Dorne山脉的所有疆域。这有什么不好的?”

“天哪,Catelyn,Sansa只有11岁,”Ned说。“而Jofrey……Jofrey是……”

Catelyn替他把话说完了,“是王储,是王座的继承人。我父亲答应把我嫁给你哥哥布兰登的时候,我也只有十二岁呀。”

提到这件事,Ned的嘴角露出了不悦的神情。“Brandon。是呀,Brandon会知道该做什么。他总是什么都知道。这一切本来都是属于Brandon的。包括你,Winterfell城堡,这所有的一切。他天生就是国王的首相,就应该是女王的父亲。我可从来没想要过这个位置的。”

“也许你没有,”Catelyn说,“但是Brandon已经死了,而现在位置已经传给了你,你就必须坐下去,不管你喜欢不喜欢。”

Ned转过身去,重新面对着夜色。他凝视着外面的一片黑暗,像是在看月亮和星星,又像是在看城墙上的哨兵。

Catelyn看见Ned如此痛苦,她的心也软了下来。Eddard Stark是按照习俗,接替哥哥Brandon的位置娶了她的,可是他死去的哥哥的影子仍旧横亘在他们之间,就如同另一个Ned不愿透露姓名的女人的影子,那个给他生了私生子的女人的影子,也横亘在他们之间一样。

Catelyn正准备走到Ned身边去,门口突然传来了敲门声,声音很大,也出人意料。Ned转过身来,皱起了眉头。“什么事?”

Desmond的声音从门外传了进来,“大人,Luwin博士就在门外,他坚持有紧急的事情求见。”

“你跟他说了吗,我已经吩咐下去了,不许打扰我。”

“是的,大人。可他还是坚持要见你。”

“算了,让他进来吧。”

Ned走到衣柜前,套上一件厚厚的长袍。Catelyn也突然意识到屋里现在变得很寒冷。她坐在床上,把毛毯拉到自己的下巴底下。“也许我们该把窗户关上,”她建议道。

Ned心不在焉地点了点头。Luwin博士被领了进来。

博士是个身材矮小看起来一生灰色的人。他的眼睛是灰色的,但却是目光敏锐,见多识广。他的头发也是灰白色,而且因为年岁的原因所剩不多了。他那毛线织成的长袍也是灰色的,四边镶着一圈白羊毛,这是Stark家族的颜色。长袍那柔软宽大的袖子里藏有暗口袋。Luwin总是把东西塞进袖子里,然后又从袖子里拿出许多其他东西:书籍、信件、奇怪的工艺品、给孩子们的玩具等。他在袖子里藏着这么多东西,Catelyn很奇怪Luwin博士居然还能把胳臂给抬起来。

博士等到身后的门已经关上以后才开口说话,“大人,请原谅,打扰您的休息了。有人留了一个信给我。”

Ned看起来很不高兴。“留给你的?是谁留的?有信使来吗?我怎么不知道?”

“不是信使,大人。只有一个雕花的木头盒子,有人趁我打盹的时候留在我观象台的一张桌子上的。我的佣人也没有见到任何人,但它一定是国王的某个随行人员带来的。我们没有其他来从南方来的客人了。”

“你是说,一个木头盒子?”Catelyn问。

“里面装着一副观象用的全新的镜片,看上去应该是来自Myr自由城的手艺。Myr城的镜片制造工艺是无人能比的。”

Ned皱着眉。Catelyn知道,Ned对这种小事是没有耐心的。“一副镜片,”Ned问,“这跟我有什么关系?”

“我也问了自己同样的问题,”Luwin博士说。“显然,这不仅仅是看上去那么简单。”

Catelyn披着厚重的毛皮被子,却依旧发着抖,“镜片是辅助我们看清东西的工具。”

“的确如此。”Luwin博士用手指理了理象征他职业身份的项圈,那是一条沉沉的金属链,链子紧紧地系在他长袍下的脖子上,链子上的每一个链环都是由一种不同的金属做的。

Catelyn能够感到恐惧再次袭上心头。“他们想让我们看清什么呢?”

“这也正是我问我自己的问题。”Luwin博士一边说,一边从袖子里抽出一张紧紧卷在一起的纸。“当我把装镜片的盒子拆开时,我发现盒子的底部还有一个夹层,里面藏着真实给我们的信息,只不过,这封信不是给我看的。”

Ned伸出手来。“那就给我吧。”

Luwin博士一动不动,“请原谅,大人。这封信也不是给你的。它上面写明是Catelyn夫人亲启,而且只有夫人一个人可以看。我可以把信拿给你吗?”

Catelyn点点头,不知道该说什么好。博士将信纸放在床边的桌子上。信纸团上用一小团蓝色的封蜡封着。Luwin博士鞠了一躬,准备退出屋子。

“先别走,”Ned命令他。他的声音很严肃。他看着Catelyn。“怎么啦?夫人,你在发抖。”

“我很害怕,”Catelyn回答道。她伸出手将信拿在手里,她的双手微微颤抖着。毛毯从她的身体上滑了下来,她也没有意识到。蓝色的封蜡上印着Arryn家族的月亮和猎鹰的印章。“是丽萨寄来的。”Catelyn看着她的丈夫说,“这不会是好消息,Ned,信里面充满了悲伤,我能感觉得到。”

Ned皱着眉头,他的脸沉了下来。“打开它。”Catelyn把封蜡弄碎。

她的眼睛在字里行间移动着。一开始,信里的字她完全看不懂。随后她记了起来。“Lysa谨慎。当我们还是孩子的时候,我们曾发明过一种私人语言,只有她和我能懂…”

“现在你能读懂吗?”

“是的,”Catelyn承认。

“那就告诉我们信的内容。”

“也许我应该退下的,”Luwin博士说。

“不用,”Catelyn说,“我们需要你的意见。”她掀开毛毯,从床上爬了起来。当她光着脚朝房间另一头走去时,寒夜的气息让她皮肤上立刻起了一层鸡皮疙瘩。

Luwin博士把目光挪开。就连Ned都看起来吓了一跳。“你要干嘛呢?”他问。

“把火升起来,”Catelyn告诉他。她翻出一件睡袍穿上,然后跪在冰冷的壁炉前。

“Luwin博士——”Ned正准备说。

Catelyn插话说道:“Luwin博士接生了我所有的孩子。现在不是假装谦虚的时候。”她把纸塞到点火绒中间,让后又在上面放上更大的木块。

Ned走了过去,抓住Catelyn的胳膊,拉着她站了起来。Ned就这样抓着她,他们的脸离得只有几寸远,“夫人,告诉我!信里写的什么?”

Catelyn浑身僵硬。“这是个警告,”她轻声说,“如果我们放聪明点听她的话。”Ned的眼睛盯着Catelyn的脸。“你继续说。”

“Lysa说Jon Arryn是被人谋杀的。”

Ned握着Catelyn手臂的手指抓得更紧了,“被谁杀的?”

“是Lannister家的人,”她告诉他。“是王后。”

Ned松开了Catelyn。Catelyn的皮肤上留下了深红色的印记。“天哪,”他低声说。他的嗓音是嘶哑的“你妹妹一定是悲伤过度了。她不知道自己在说什么。”

“她知道,”Catelyn回答说,“Lysa是个冲动的人,这没错,但是这封信是她精心策划,又巧妙隐藏起来的。她知道,如果她的信落入坏人之手,那她就是死路一条。她敢冒这么大的风险,那一定不仅仅是怀疑这么简单了。”Catelyn看着她的丈夫。“现在我们真的别无选择了。你必须要做Robert的首相。你必须要和他一起去南方,查明真相。”

Catelyn立刻看出来,Ned得出了一个完全不同的结论:“我所知道的真相就是留在这里。南方就是一群毒蛇呆的地方,我好还是躲得远远的。”

Luwin拽了拽他的项圈,项圈把他喉咙处的柔软皮肤磨得生疼,“国王的首相拥有巨大的权力,大人。这个权力能让你查明Arryn领主死亡的真相,也能让你将凶手绳之以法。如果信中说到这种坏的情况是属实的话,还能让你保护Arryn夫人和她的儿子。”

Ned无可奈何地环顾着他们。Catelyn也不禁心疼起他来,但她知道,这个时候还不是抱着Ned安慰他的时候。他们首先必须要赢得这场战斗,为了他们孩子们的也必须这么做。“你说你把Robert当你的亲兄弟看待。你会忍心让你的兄弟被Lannister一家人包围却置之不理吗?”

“让异族把你们俩都抓走算了,”Ned阴沉着脸咕哝道。他转身背对着他们,走到了窗前。Catelyn和博士谁都没有说一句话。他们静静地等待着Ned的终决定。Eddard Stark默默地向这个他至爱的家道别。后,当他从窗口转过身来时,他的声音充满了疲惫和哀伤,他的眼角有些潮湿的东西在隐约闪着光,“我的父亲曾经去过一次南方,他也是听从国王的召唤去的。他再也没有回来。”

“时代不同了,”Luwin博士说,“国王也不同了。”

“是呀,”Ned无精打采地说。他在壁炉边的椅子上坐下。“Catelyn,你得留在Winterfell 这里。”

他的话像是一股冷风从她的心头吹过。“不会吧,”她说,她突然害怕起来。这难道是对她的惩罚吗?她将再也见不到他的脸,再也感觉不到他的手臂搂着她?

“是的,”Ned说,他现在说话的语气不容争辩。“在我为Robert劳的这段时间里,你必须接替我掌管北方。Winterfell必须始终要有一个Stark家里的人。Robb十四岁了。他很快就会长大成人。他必须要学会统治,可是我没法在这里教他。你要让他成为你的顾问团的一部分。当轮到他掌管的时候,他必须要有能力掌管才行。”

“众神保佑,希望你不会离开很多年的,”Luwin博士喃喃自语道。

“Luwin博士,我信任你就像我信得过我自己的血脉一样。事无大小,都要对我妻子说出你的心里话。教我儿子学会他需要知道的事情。冬天就要来了。”

【英语文本】

Of all the rooms in Winterfell’s Great Keep, Catelyn’s bedchambers were the hottest. She seldom had to light a fire. The castle had been built over natural hot springs, and the scalding waters rushed through its walls and chambers like blood through a man’s body, driving the chill from the stone halls, filling the glass gardens with a moist warmth, keeping the earth from freezing. Open pools smoked day and night in a dozen small courtyards. That was a little thing, in summer; in winter, it was the difference between life and death.

Catelyn’s bath was always hot and steaming, and her walls warm to the touch. The warmth reminded her of Riverrun, of days in the sun with Lysa and Edmure, but Ned could never abide the heat. The Starks were made for the cold, he would tell her, and she would laugh and tell him in that case they had certainly built their castle in the wrong place.

So when they had finished, Ned rolled off and climbed from her bed, as he had a thousand times before. He crossed the room, pulled back the heavy tapestries, and threw open the high narrow windows one by one, letting the night air into the chamber.

The wind swirled around him as he stood facing the dark, naked and empty-handed. Catelyn pulled the furs to her chin and watched him. He looked somehow smaller and more vulnerable, like the youth she had wed in the sept at Riverrun, fifteen long years gone. Her loins still ached from the urgency of his lovemaking. It was a good ache. She could feel his seed within her. She prayed that it might quicken there. It had been three years since Rickon. She was not too old. She could give him another son.

“I will refuse him,” Ned said as he turned back to her. His eyes were haunted, his voice thick with doubt.

Catelyn sat up in the bed. “You cannot. You must not.”

“My duties are here in the north. I have no wish to be Robert’s Hand.”

“He will not understand that. He is a king now, and kings are not like other men. If you refuse to serve him, he will wonder why, and sooner or later he will begin to suspect that you oppose him. Can’t you see the danger that would put us in?”

Ned shook his head, refusing to believe. “Robert would never harm me or any of mine. We were closer than brothers. He loves me. If I refuse him, he will roar and curse and bluster, and in a week we will laugh about it together. I know the man!”

“You knew the man,” she said. “The king is a stranger to you.” Catelyn remembered the direwolf dead in the snow, the broken antler lodged deep in her throat. She had to make him see. “Pride is everything to a king, my lord. Robert came all this way to see you, to bring you these great honors, you cannot throw them back in his face.”

“Honors?” Ned laughed bitterly. “In his eyes, yes,” she said.

“And in yours?”

“And in mine,” she blazed, angry now. Why couldn’t he see? “He offers his own son in marriage to our daughter, what else would you call that? Sansa might someday be queen. Her sons could rule from the Wall to the mountains of Dorne. What is so wrong with that?”

“Gods, Catelyn, Sansa is only eleven,” Ned said. “And Joffrey . . . Joffrey is . . .”

She finished for him. crown prince, and heir to the Iron Throne. And I was only twelve when my father promised me to your brother Brandon.”

That brought a bitter twist to Ned’s mouth. “Brandon. Yes. Brandon would know what to do. He always did. It was all meant for Brandon. You, Winterfell, everything. He was born to be a King’s Hand and a father to queens. I never asked for this cup to pass to me.”

“Perhaps not,” Catelyn said, “but Brandon is dead, and the cup has passed, and you must drink from it, like it or not.”

Ned turned away from her, back to the night. He stood staring out in the darkness, watching the moon and the stars perhaps, or perhaps the sentries on the wall.

Catelyn softened then, to see his pain. Eddard Stark had married her in Brandon’s place, as custom decreed, but the shadow of his dead brother still lay between them, as did the other, the shadow of the woman he would not name, the woman who had borne him his bastard son.

She was about to go to him when the knock came at the door, loud and unexpected. Ned turned, frowning. “What is it?”

Desmond’s voice came through the door. “My lord, Maester Luwin is without and begs urgent audience.”

“You told him I had left orders not to be disturbed?” “Yes, my lord. He insists.”

“Very well. Send him in.”

Ned crossed to the wardrobe and slipped on a heavy robe. Catelyn realized suddenly how cold it had become. She sat up in bed and pulled the furs to her chin. “Perhaps we should close the windows,” she suggested.

Ned nodded absently. Maester Luwin was shown in.

The maester was a small grey man. His eyes were grey, and quick, and saw much. His hair was grey, what little the years had left him. His robe was grey wool, trimmed with white fur, the Stark colors. Its great floppy sleeves had pockets hidden inside. Luwin was always tucking things into those sleeves and producing other things from them: books, messages, strange artifacts, toys for the children. With all he kept hidden in his sleeves, Catelyn was surprised that Maester Luwin could lift his arms at all.

The maester waited until the door had closed behind him before he spoke. “My lord,” he said to Ned, “pardon for disturbing your rest. I have been left a message.”

Ned looked irritated. “Been left? By whom? Has there been a rider? I was not told.”

“There was no rider, my lord. Only a carved wooden box, left on a table in my observatory while I napped. My servants saw no one, but it must have been brought by someone in the king’s party. We have had no other visitors from the south.”

“A wooden box, you say?” Catelyn said.

“Inside was a fine new lens for the observatory, from Myr by the look of it. The lenscrafters of Myr are without equal.”

Ned frowned. He had little patience for this sort of thing, Catelyn knew. “A lens,” he said. “What has that to do with me?”

“I asked the same question,” Maester Luwin said. “Clearly there was more to this than the seeming.”

Under the heavy weight of her furs, Catelyn shivered. “A lens is an instrument to help us see.”

“Indeed it is.” He fingered the collar of his order; a heavy chain worn tight around the neck beneath his robe, each link forged from a different metal.

Catelyn could feel dread stirring inside her once again. “What is it that they would have us see more clearly?”

“The very thing I asked myself.” Maester Luwin drew a tightly rolled paper out of his sleeve. “I found the true message concealed within a false bottom when I dismantled the box the lens had come in, but it is not for my eyes.”

Ned held out his hand. “Let me have it, then.”

Luwin did not stir. “Pardons, my lord. The message is not for you either. It is marked for the eyes of the Lady Catelyn, and her alone. May I approach?”

Catelyn nodded, not trusting to speak. The maester placed the paper on the table beside the bed. It was sealed with a small blob of blue wax. Luwin bowed and began to retreat.

“Stay,” Ned commanded him. His voice was grave. He looked at Catelyn. “What is it? My lady, you’re shaking.”

“I’m afraid,” she admitted. She reached out and took the letter in trembling hands. The furs dropped away from her nakedness, forgotten. In the blue wax was the moon-and-falcon seal of House Arryn. “It’s from Lysa.” Catelyn looked at her husband. “It will not make us glad,” she told him. “There is grief in this message, Ned. I can feel it.”

Ned frowned, his face darkening. “Open it.” Catelyn broke the seal.

Her eyes moved over the words. At first they made no sense to her. Then she remembered. “Lysa took no chances. When we were girls together, we had a private language, she and L”

“Can you read it?”

“Yes,” Catelyn admitted.

“Then tell us.”

“Perhaps I should withdraw,” Maester Luwin said.

“No,” Catelyn said. “We will need your counsel.” She threw back the furs and climbed from the bed. The night air was as cold as the grave on her bare skin as she padded across the room.

Maester Luwin averted his eyes. Even Ned looked shocked. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Lighting a fire,” Catelyn told him. She found a dressing gown and shrugged into it, then knelt over the cold hearth.

“Maester Luwin-“ Ned began.

“Maester Luwin has delivered all my children,” Catelyn said. “This is no time for false modesty.” She slid the paper in among the kindling and placed the heavier logs on top of it.

Ned crossed the room, took her by the arm, and pulled her to her feet. He held her there, his face inches from her. “My lady, tell me! What was this message?”

Catelyn stiffened in his grasp. “A warning,” she said softly. “If we have the wits to hear.” His eyes searched her face. “Go on.”

“Lysa says Jon Arryn was murdered.”

His fingers tightened on her arm. “By whom?”

“The Lannisters,” she told him. “The queen.”

Ned released his hold on her arm. There were deep red marks on her skin. “Gods,” he whispered. His voice was hoarse. “Your sister is sick with grief. She cannot know what she is saying.”

“She knows,” Catelyn said. “Lysa is impulsive, yes, but this message was carefully planned, cleverly hidden. She knew it meant death if her letter fell into the wrong hands. To risk so much, she must have had more than mere suspicion.” Catelyn looked to her husband. “Now we truly have no choice. You must be Robert’s Hand. You must go south with him and learn the truth.”

She saw at once that Ned had reached a very different conclusion. “The only truths I know are here. The south is a nest of adders I would do better to avoid.”

Luwin plucked at his chain collar where it had chafed the soft skin of his throat. “The Hand of the King has great power, my lord. Power to find the truth of Lord Arryn’s death, to bring his killers to the king’s justice. Power to protect Lady Arryn and her son, if the worst be true.”

Ned glanced helplessly around the bedchamber. Catelyn’s heart went out to him, but she knew she could not take him in her arms just then. First the victory must be won, for her children’s sake. “You say you love Robert like a brother. Would you leave your brother surrounded by Lannisters?”

“The Others take both of you,” Ned muttered darkly. He turned away from them and went to the window. She did not speak, nor did the maester. They waited, quiet, while Eddard Stark said a silent farewell to the home he loved. When he turned away from the window at last, his voice was tired and full of melancholy, and moisture glittered faintly in the corners of his eyes. “My father went south once, to answer the summons of a king. He never came home again.”

“A different time,” Maester Luwin said. “A different king.”

“Yes,” Ned said dully. He seated himself in a chair by the hearth. “Catelyn, you shall stay here in Winterfell.”

His words were like an icy draft through her heart. “No,” she said, suddenly afraid. Was this to be her punishment? Never to see his face again, nor to feel his arms around her?

“Yes,” Ned said, in words that would brook no argument. “You must govern the north in my stead, while I run Robert’s errands. There must always be a Stark in Winterfell. Robb is fourteen. Soon enough, he will be a man grown. He must learn to rule, and I will not be here for him. Make him part of your councils. He must be ready when his time comes.”

“Gods will, not for many years,” Maester Luwin murmured.

“Maester Luwin, I trust you as I would my own blood. Give my wife your voice in all things great and small. Teach my son the things he needs to know. Winter is coming.”

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