The turnkey laughed, his gut shaking like a bowl of pudding. 狱卒哈哈大笑，肚子像一碗布丁似地摇晃。

　　Tyrion felt a pang of rage. You fucking son of a pox-ridden ass, he spat. I hope you die of a bloody flux. 提利昂只觉怒火中烧。你这操他妈狗娘养的烂货，他啐道，祝你早日七孔流血而死。

　　For that, Mord gave him a kick, driving a steel-toed boot hard into Tyrion’s ribs on the way out.  因为他这番话，莫德出去的时候，狠狠踢了他一脚，钢靴正中提利昂的肋骨。

　　I take it back! he gasped as he doubled over on the straw. I’ll kill you myself, I swear it! The heavy iron-bound door slammed shut. Tyrion heard the rattle of keys. 我收回刚说的话！他倒在稻草堆上，喘着气说，我要亲自宰了你，我发誓！厚重的铁门轰地关上，提利昂听见钥匙转动的声音。

　　For a small man, he had been cursed with a dangerously big mouth, he reflected as he crawled back to his corner of what the Arryns laughably called their dungeon.  对他这样的小个子而言，他很不幸地生了张非常危险的大嘴巴，他一边爬回角落一边想，艾林家的人竟把这称为他们的地牢，真叫人哭笑不得。

　　He huddled beneath the thin blanket that was his only bedding, staring out at a blaze of empty blue sky and distant mountains that seemed to go on forever, wishing he still had the shadowskin cloak he’d won from Marillion at dice, after the singer had stolen it off the body of that brigand chief.  他蜷缩在薄薄的毡子下——那是他惟一的被褥——向外望着那片刺眼的空虚蓝天，以及好似漫无边际的缥缈峰峦，暗想着如果还保有那件影子山猫皮披风，不知该有多好。披风是马瑞里安从山贼头目的尸首上扒去的，后来歌手和他赌骰子输了，便落入他手中。

　　The skin had smelled of blood and mold, but it was warm and thick.  山猫皮虽然散发着霉味和血腥，却很温暖厚实。

　　Mord had taken it the moment he laid eyes on it. 可惜莫德一看到便把它抢走了。

　　The wind tugged at his blanket with gusts sharp as talons. His cell was miserably small, even for a dwarf.  尖如利爪的劲风扯着他的毛毯。即使对他这个侏儒来说，牢房也嫌太小。

　　Not five feet away, where a wall ought to have been, where a wall would be in a proper dungeon, the floor ended and the sky began.  倘若这里真是地牢，那么不到五英尺外，原本应该有墙。相反，那里却是地板尽头和天空的交界。

　　He had plenty of fresh air and sunshine, and the moon and stars by night, but Tyrion would have traded it all in an instant for the dankest, gloomiest pit in the bowels of the Casterly Rock. 虽然这里白天空气新鲜，阳光耀眼，夜里也有繁星与明月，提利昂却宁可拿凯岩城底部最阴暗潮湿的坑洞来交换。