Somewhere in the great stone maze of Winterfell, a wolf howled. The sound hung over the castle like a flag of mourning. 临冬城堡的巨石迷宫深处，传来一声狼嚎。嚎叫声在堡垒间悬荡，如同一面哀悼的旗帜。

Tyrion Lannister looked up from his books and shivered, though the library was snug and warm.  虽然图书馆里温暖舒适，提利昂听了却不禁从书堆里抬首，颤抖起来。

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. 狼嚎中有种神秘莫测的力量，将他硬生生自现实抽离，弃置于一片广寒的阴郁森林，浑身赤裸，在恶狼追逐下亡命奔逃。

When the direwolf howled again, Tyrion shut the heavy leatherbound cover on the book he was reading,  当冰原狼的嚎叫声再度传来，提利昂终于忍不住阖上他正在读的书，

a hundred-year-old discourse on the changing of the seasons by a long-dead maester.  那是一部探究季节更迭的百年古籍，出自某位早已长眠地下的老学士之手。

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.  他打了个呵欠，用手背微微掩住嘴巴。晨色自高窗缝里泄进图书馆，他的写字灯火光摇曳，灯油已尽。

He had been at it all night, but that was nothing new. Tyrion Lannister was not much a one for sleeping. 他又整夜没睡，然而这也不是什么新鲜事，提利昂·兰尼斯特向来不是个需要大量睡眠的人。

His legs were stiff and sore as he eased down off the bench.  他挪动僵硬酸麻的双脚下了长凳，

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.  稍事按摩之后，跛着脚走到桌边。修士正趴在桌上，轻声打鼾，头枕在面前一本敞开的大书上。

Tyrion glanced at the title. A life of the Grand Maester Aethelmure, no wonder.  提利昂瞄瞄书名，原来是《伊萨穆尔国师传记》，难怪他会看到睡着。

Chayle, he said softly. The young man jerked up, blinking, confused, the crystal of his order swinging wildly on its silver chain. "柴尔，"他轻声唤道，年轻修士陡地惊醒，困惑地眨眨眼，象征他身份的水晶在银项链上晃动。