Chapter 5 Chapter 5 Bran

Bran preferred the hard stone seats by the window to the warmth and comfort of featherbed blankets.In bed, the walls pressed against him, the heavy ceiling hanging over his head; in bed, the bedroom was his cell, Winterfell his prison.Yet outside the window, the vast world still calls to him. Although he can't walk, climb, hunt, or practice with a wooden sword like before, he can "see".He liked to sit by the window and watch the candles and fires lit in the diamond-shaped glass panes in the distance, lighting up the towers and halls of Winterfell; he also liked to listen to the direwolves singing to the stars.

Recently, he often dreamed of wolves.They talk to me like a brother, he told himself every time he heard the direwolf howl.He could almost understand them...not all, not really, just a little bit...as if they sang in a language he once knew and had only temporarily forgotten.Walder and Walder were afraid of them, but the blood of running wolves ran in the Starks, Old Nan had said. "Although the amount of wolf blood on each tribe's body is not equal," she also warned. Summer's bark is long and sad, full of sadness and longing, while Shaggy Dog is more wild.Their howls echoed in the square, in the halls, and filled the entire city, as if a large group of direwolves occupied Winterfell, not just two... There were originally six, but now only these two are left.Are they missing siblings too?Bran wondered, were they calling Gray Wind and Ghost, the ghosts of Nymeria and the Lady?Do they also want their brothers and sisters to go home and be reunited soon?

"Who knows what wolves think?" Bran replied to Ser Rodrik Cassel when he asked why wolves howled.Before Bran's lord mother went south, she appointed Ser Rodrik as castellan, so he had no time for gossip. "They are calling for freedom." Fran said that he was the beast master of Winterfell, and he had the same dislike for the direwolves as the hounds he was in charge of. "They don't like being locked up, and who can blame that? Wild things are supposed to be in the wild, not in the city." "They want to hunt." Chef Gage said while throwing suet cubes into the big soup pot. "Wolves have a much better sense of smell than humans. They probably smell the prey."

Maester Luwin didn't think so. "The wolves used to howl at the moon. They're howling at the comet now. How bright it is, Bran? They must have mistook the comet for the moon." Bran told this to Osha, and she laughed. "Your bachelors are not as smart as those two wolves," said the wild woman. "There are some things that the gray old man has forgotten, but they remember them very clearly." Hearing what she said, he couldn't help trembling all over, and even asked her what the comet represented. Meaning, she replied, "Boy, it's blood and fire, nothing good."

Regarding the meaning of the comet, Bran also asked him about the meaning of the comet when he helped Brother Chayer organize the scrolls rescued from the fire in the library tower. "That's the sword that killed the season." He replied.It wasn't long before the Crow brought news of autumn from Oldtown, so he must be right. But Old Nan didn't think so, and she was older than anyone else. "It's a dragon," she said, looking up and sniffing twice.She is too blind to see the comet, yet she claims to be able to smell it. "That's a dragon, child," she insisted.Old Nan never called Bran "Prince," never had and never did.

Hodor said only two words: "Hodor", that's all he said. The direwolf still howled day and night.The city guards cursed under their breath, the hounds in the stables howled, the horses kicked the stables, Brother Walder shivered by the fire, and even Maester Luwin complained of sleepless nights, but Bran didn't mind.Ser Rodrik had kept the two wolves locked up in the godswood since Shaggydog had bitten little Walder, but the stone walls of Winterfell played tricks with sound, and sometimes they seemed to be in the square right under Bran's window Sometimes, he could have sworn they walked up and down the walls like guards.He would love to see them.

From time to time he noticed the comet hanging high above the guardhouse, the clock tower, and the Fort in the distance. The round Fort was very low, and the black figure of the gargoyle stood against the purple-red sky in the distance.Once, Bran knew these buildings inside and out, brick by brick, because he had climbed them all.He climbed the walls as easily as other boys ran the stairs.In the past, the roof of the tower was his secret base, and the crow on the top of the ruined tower was his close friend. But he fell down the stairs. Bran didn't remember falling, but they all said so, so he figured it must have happened.He almost died.Whenever he saw the weather-beaten gargoyle statues on the top of the first fort tower where the accident happened, he felt a strange tightness in his stomach.Now he can't climb, walk, run, practice sword, and his dream of being a knight has been wiped out.

Before Robb left the city to fight, he told Bran that Summer howled the day he fell, and howled as he lay in bed afterwards.Summer mourned for him, and Shaggydog and Gray Wind joined in the mourning.And on the night when the bloody crow brought the news of his father's death, the wolves seemed to know it too.Bran and Rickon were discussing stories about the Children of the Forest in the maester's tower when Summer and Shaggydog suddenly howled, drowning Luwin's voice. Now, for whom do they mourn?Had someone killed the King in the North who had been his brother Robb?Could it be that his illegitimate brother Jon stumbled and fell off the Great Wall?Could it be that something happened to the mother or two sisters?Or something else, as maesters and friars and old Nans think?

If I were a direwolf, I could understand their singing, he thought expectantly.In his wolf dream, he would always gallop up to the ice and snow mountain that was steeper than any tower, stand on the top of the mountain with the full moon in the sky, overlooking everything, every time it was like this. “呜呜呜～”布兰试着双手围住嘴巴，举头朝彗星呼叫，“呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜～”他嚎Said, the voice is so clumsy, sharp, hollow and trembling, this is just the howling of a little boy, not the roar of a wolf.However, Xia Tian echoed it from a distance, and his thick voice overwhelmed Bran's subtle shouts, and then Shaggy Dog joined in.Bran spoke again, shouting with them like a group of companions.

The shout attracted the warped-nosed guard "Strawhead". He poked his head into the room and saw Bran screaming out of the window. He hurriedly asked, "Your Highness, what happened?" Hearing them call himself "Your Highness" made Bran feel something was wrong, but he was indeed Robb's heir, and Robb was the current King in the North.He turned his head and howled at the guard, "Woooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo~~"

Strawhead scowled, "Stop barking." “Woooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo The guards retreated and found Master Luwin, who was dressed all in gray and had a necklace around his neck. "Bran, aren't those two wild things noisy enough? You stop adding fuel to the fire." He crossed the room, touching the boy's forehead. "It's so late, go to sleep." "I was talking to them." Bran pushed his hand away. "How about I ask Straw Head to carry you to bed?" "I can go to bed by myself." Mikken nailed a row of iron handles into the wall so that Bran could move around the room with his hands.Slow and laborious, and painful as hell, he hated being carried around. "Besides, I don't want to sleep right now." "Bran, all men sleep, even princes." "I turn into a wolf when I sleep," Bran said, looking away at the night outside the window. "Do wolves dream?" "I think all animals dream, but they don't dream the same way as humans do." "Do dead men dream?" Bran asked, thinking of his father.In the dark vaults below Winterfell, a stonemason was chiseling his father's face in marble. "Some say yes, some say no," replied the maester. "A dead man has no opinion." "What about the tree?" "Trees? No..." "They will!" Bran said suddenly. "They dream of trees. I dream sometimes of a tree, a weirwood, like the one in the godswood, calling to me. Wolf dreams are better, I can smell things and sometimes taste blood." Maester Luwin tugged at the choker that chafed his neck. "You should spend some time with the other kids—" "I hate them," Bran said, referring to Walder and Walder. "I order you to send them away!" Luwin's face was serious, "The Frey brothers are the adopted sons of your lord mother. She sent them here specially. You can't drive them away, and it's not right to do so. If we drive them away, where should they go?" "Go home! Because of them, you won't let Xia Tian be with me." "The Frey family kid didn't take the initiative to ask to be bitten," the bachelor said, "I didn't either." "It's Shaggydog!" Rickon's big black wolf was so wild that sometimes even Bran was afraid. "Summer never bites!" "Have you forgotten? Summer snapped a man's throat off, right here in this room! You've got to face it, the cute little wolf your brothers found in the snow is now a dangerous beast. The Freys Those two kids were wise to avoid them." "We should throw Walder and Walder into the godswood. They can be Lords of the Ferry whatever they like, so that Xia Tian can come back and sleep with me. Since I am a prince, why does no one listen to me? I want to ride Xiao Wu, But my drunk stomach won’t let me go out at all.” "He did the right thing. The wolf forest is full of dangers. Could it be that you haven't learned your lesson last time? Do you want to be captured by robbers and sold to the Lannister family?" "Summer will save me," Bran insisted stubbornly. "A prince should have the right to sail the seas, hunt wild boars in the wolf's woods, and joust!" "Bran, boy, why are you torturing yourself like this? You might be able to do this someday, but you're only an eight-year-old now." "I'd rather be a wolf, so I can live in the woods, sleep when I want, and go find Arya and Sansa, and I can smell them and save them. When Robb is at war I can To be by his side is like Gray Wind. I will bite the Kingslayer's throat with my teeth, tear it apart, and the war will be over, and everyone will return to Winterfell. If I were a wolf..." he howled Crying, "Woooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo~" Luwin raised his voice, "If you want to be a real prince, you should learn to accept..." "Ahhhhhh~" Bran howled even louder, "ahhhhhhhh~" The old maester surrendered, "As you please, boy." He left the bedroom with a look of sadness and disgust. With Bran alone, it would be boring to learn how to howl a wolf.After a while, he calmed down.Who said I didn't welcome them?He muttered to himself angrily.I am the city lord of Winterfell, a veritable city lord, no one can deny it.When Walder and Walder first came here from the Twins, it was Rickon who had been clamoring for them to leave.He was just a four-year-old baby, crying for his father and mother, for Robb, and for these two strangers.Bran was still responsible for reassuring him and welcoming the Frey cousins.He invited them to sit down by the fire for a meal and drink, and even Maester Luwin praised him afterwards for a good job. But that was before games were made. This game requires a tree trunk and a stick, as well as running water and a lot of noise.Water is the most important thing. The two Walders emphasized to Bran that the trunk can be replaced with wooden planks or a few stones, and it is also okay to find branches instead of sticks. It doesn't have to be loud, but if there is no water source, the game can be played It can't be done.Since Maester Luwin and Ser Rodrik would never let the boys run off into the Wolfwood to find a brook, they took the black pool in the godswood instead.The two Walders had never seen a bubbling natural hot pool, but they both agreed it was more fun that way. They were both named Walder Frey.Big Walder said there were a lot of Walders in the Twins, all named after their grandfather, Lord Walder Frey. "In Winterfell, each of us has a name," Rickon replied proudly when they said that. The way the game is played is that a tree trunk is placed on the water, and then one player stands on it holding a stick, pretending to be the Lord of the Crossing, and whenever other players approach, he says, "I am the Lord of the Crossing, who is it?" The player being asked has to come up with a story about where he came from and why he should be allowed to cross the river.Lords can order them to swear or answer questions, but they don't have to tell the truth, only the oath is binding unless they say "maybe" in the oath.So the trick of this game is to say "maybe" when the lord of the river ferry is not paying attention, and then you can try to beat the lord into the river and be in charge of the river ferry yourself, but you must say "maybe", Otherwise, a foul will be ruled out.As long as the lord is happy, he can beat people into the water at any time, and he is the only one who can use a stick. In actual play, there's a near-constant jostling, wrestling, and falling overboard, and loud bickering about whether someone actually said "maybe."Little Walder was Lord of the Crossings most of the time. He was little Walder, but he was tall and strong, with a red face and a big round belly.Big Walder had a pointed face and a thin build, half a foot shorter than him. "He was fifty-two days older than me," explained little Walder. "He was bigger than me when he was born, but I grew up fast." "We are cousins, not brothers," added little Big Walder. "I am Walder son of Jamos, and my father is the son of Lord Walder's fourth wife. He is the son of Merry." Walder, his grandmother is Lord Walder's third wife, from the Crakeher family. So although I am older, he is ahead of me in the line of succession." "You're only fifty-two days older than me," said little Walder unconvinced, "and there's no room for us in the Twins, you idiot." "Who said no?" Big Walder declared, "but we are not the only ones named Walder. Sir Stevron has a grandson named Black Walder, who is fourth in line of succession. There is also Red Walder, That was Ser Emmon's son. There was also a bastard named Walder, but he was not entitled to the land at all. He was Walder Rivers, not Walder Frey. There were also several girls named Walda. " "And Tyre, you forget Tyre every time!" "His last name is 'Vatier,' not Walder," said Big Walder briskly, "and he's right behind us, so it doesn't matter. I didn't like him anyway." Ser Rodrik arranged for them to live in Jon Snow's old rooms, because Jon had joined the Night's Watch and would never return.Bran was angry because it made him feel as though the Freys were taking Jon's place. While playing games, he watched enviously from the sidelines of Walder and his kitchen boy, Turnip, and Joseth's two daughters, Banti and Sheila, arguing.Walder and Walder made Bran the referee for whether they had said "maybe," but as soon as they started playing, they left him completely out of the way. The shouting and the sound of the water soon attracted more children: Para the kennel girl, Karen the son of Cairne, and Tom Tom the second, his father Fat Tom and Bran's father both died in King's Landing.Before long, they were all drenched and covered with mud.Palla, covered in brown mud from head to toe, with moss in her hair, couldn't breathe from laughing.Bran hadn't heard so much laughter since the bloody raven brought the news of his father's death.If my feet were intact, I would have knocked them all into the water, he thought bitterly. Without me, no one can be the Lord of the Crossing. At last Rickon, too, ran into the godswood, and Shaggydog followed.He saw Turnip and Little Walder wrestling for the stick, and Turnip slipped and fell into the water with a thud, flailing her hands.Then Rickon yelled, "It's me! It's me! I want to play!" Little Walder waved him over, and Shaggydog was about to follow. "Moomao, don't go," the younger brother ordered, "wolves can't play this game, you stay with Bran." The wolf obediently obeyed... …Unexpectedly, Little Walder swung his stick and hit Rickon firmly in the stomach.Before Bran could blink, the black wolf leaped across the planks, and the water was bloody, and Walder and Walder screamed for their lives, Rickon sat laughing in the mud, and Hodor came stumbling over, shouting: "Hodor! Hodor! Hodor!" Oddly enough, Rickon has since taken a liking to Walder and Walder.They didn't play Lord of the Crossings anymore, but they played a lot of other things—Beauty and the Monster, Cat and Mouse, Into My Castle, and so on.Rickon took Walder and Walder together to the kitchen to plunder pies and honey, run wildly around the city walls, throw bones to feed the dogs in the kennel, and practice wooden swords together under Ser Rodrik's piercing gaze.Rickon had even taken them to the catacombs underground, where the stonemasons were carving their father's statue. "You have no right!" Bran screamed at his brother when he heard that. "That's where our house is! Where the Starks are!" Corrickon ignored him. The bedroom door swung open, and Maester Luwin came in with a green pot in his hand, and Osha and Strawhead joined him. "Bran, I made a sleeping pill for you." Osha stretched out her skinny hands and picked him up. She was tall for a woman and had great strength, so she carried him onto the bed effortlessly. "Drink this, and you won't dream," Maester Luwin said, taking out the cork. "It will give you a good, dreamless night's sleep." "Really?" Bran wished it was true. "Really, drink it quickly." Bran drank it.The potion is thick and cloudy, but honey is added so it is easy to swallow. "Tomorrow morning, you'll feel better." Luwin smiled at Bran, patted him on the shoulder, and left. Osha stayed for a while, "Are you dreaming of a wolf again?" Bran nodded. "Boy, you don't have to force yourself. I've seen you talk to Xinshu. Maybe this is what the gods want to answer." "Really?" he murmured, feeling a little groggy.Osha's face blurred and turned gray.Sleep soundly, dreamless, Bran thought. But when darkness fell upon him, he was back in the godswood, wandering silently beneath the livid sentinels and ancient twisted oaks.I can go again!he thought excitedly.He vaguely knew that this was a dream, but even walking in a dream was much better than the bedroom, walls, ceiling and door in reality. It was dark in the forest, but the comet was guiding him, so his steps were steady.He walked with four sound and healthy feet, feeling the ground under his feet, the soft sound of fallen leaves, thick tree roots, hard rocks, and layers of humus.It's a great feeling. His mind was filled with smells, alive and intoxicating: the stench of green mud in hot spring pools, the rich aroma of rotting soil under the soles of his feet, squirrels in oak trees.Smelling squirrels, he thought of the warm smell of blood, of bones crumbling between his teeth, and his mouth full of saliva.He had eaten less than half a day ago, but dead meat was not enough, even if it was venison.He could hear the squirrels chirping overhead, scurrying away, safe in the treetops, afraid to come down wherever their brothers went. He could also smell his younger brother's smell, the familiar smell, as strong and earthy as his black fur.The younger brother was running and jumping around the high wall in a rage.He went around and around, during the day and at night, never tired, constantly looking for... looking for prey, looking for a way out, looking for his mother, looking for his brothers and sisters... he searched and searched, but he couldn't find anything. Behind the grove is a high wall, stacked with lifeless human rocks, that surrounds the grove.Although the high wall is mottled with gray stripes and covered with moss, it is solid and high, and no wolf, no matter how big, can't jump over it.The only holes in the stone mountain were blocked by cold iron bars and broken wood. Every time my brother passed through a hole, he would stop and show his fangs, but the barrier remained the same. He did the same thing the night before he was locked in, but he found it useless.Roaring won't cut your way, running around a wall won't push it away, raising your foot to mark a tree won't drive people away.The world has shrunk to this small piece of wood surrounded by high walls, but beyond that, the huge gray hole built by human rock still stands.In Winterfell, a voice suddenly came, reminding him.Beyond the man-made cliffs as high as the sky, the real world calls.He must respond or die.