Later, when the stomach cramps began, he begged for food instead. 几“天”后，他肚子抽筋，便改向狱卒求恳食物，

　　It made no matter; he was not fed. 结果还是相同，他依然没东西吃。

　　Perhaps the Lannisters meant for him to starve to death. 或许兰尼斯特家打算把他生生饿死。

　　"No," he told himself. “不对。”他对自己说。

　　If Cersei had wanted him dead, he would have been cut down in the throne room with his men. 倘若瑟曦要置他于死地，他早就和部下一起被砍倒在王座厅了。

　　She wanted him alive. Weak, desperate, yet alive. 她要他活着，不论如何虚弱，如何绝望，都要留下他一条命。

　　Catelyn held her brother; she dare not kill him or the Imp's life would be forfeit as well. 凯特琳手上还握有她的弟弟；她若是杀他，那么小恶魔也会没命。

　　From outside his cell came the rattle of iron chains. 囚室外传来铁链碰撞的声音。

　　As the door creaked open, Ned put a hand to the damp wall and pushed himself toward the light. 门突然打开，奈德伸手撑住潮湿的墙壁，往光明的地方爬去。

　　The glare of a torch made him squint. "Food," he croaked. 火炬的强光刺得他眯起眼睛。“食物，”他哑着嗓子说。

　　Wine, a voice answered. “我带了酒来，”一个声音应道。

　　It was not the rat-faced man; this gaoler was stouter, shorter, though he wore the same leather half cape and spiked steel cap. 不是那个老鼠脸；这次的狱卒比较矮胖，但同样穿着半身皮斗篷，戴了有刺钢盔。

　　"Drink, Lord Eddard." He thrust a wineskin into Ned's hands. “艾德大人，您快喝吧。”他将一个酒袋塞进奈德手里。

　　The voice was strangely familiar, yet it took Ned Stark a moment to place it. 这声音出奇地熟悉，但奈德·史塔克过了一阵子才想起来。

　　"Varys?" he said groggily when it came. “瓦里斯？”他虚弱不堪地说，

　　He touched the man's face. 伸手摸摸对方的脸。

　　"I'm not... not dreaming this. You're here." “我……我不是在作梦。真的是你。”

　　The eunuch's plump cheeks were covered with a dark stubble of beard.  太监肥胖的脸颊上覆盖着粗短的黑胡茬，