Chapter 70 Chapter 70 Bran

The sky is full of dust, like a soft gray snow. He stepped over dry pine needles and brown fallen leaves to the edge of the sparsely pine forest.At the far end of the open field, in the desolate rocky mountains of human beings, raging flames spiraled up, and the hot wind rushed towards him, carrying the thick smell of blood and barbecue, which made him salivate. These smells lured them forward, and other smells warned them to stay away.He sniffed the drifting smoke carefully.People, lots of people, lots of horses, and fire, fire, fire.This is the most dangerous breath, even the hard and cold steel, even the sour human claws and hard skin can't compare.The smoke and ash stung his eyes, and when he looked up, he saw a big winged snake stretching its teeth and claws, roaring and spouting a torrent of flames.He grinned at it, but the big snake didn't move.Beyond the cliffs, the soaring flames engulfed the stars.

The fire burned all night, and at one point it roared and made loud noises, and the ground underfoot was shaking.The dogs barked and whimpered, the horses screamed in terror.The wailing in the dark night was earth-shattering—the wail of human beings, the howling of fear, the wild cry, the hysterical laughter and the inexplicable call.Humans are the noisiest animals.He pricked up his ears and listened carefully, but his brother growled at every sound.They roamed the woods all night, and the boundless wind brought dust to the sky, scattered embers, and covered the sky.When the fire died down, they decided to leave.Foggy morning, gray sun.

He left the woods and walked slowly across the field, his brother running beside him.They followed the breath of blood and death, and walked silently through the caves that humans had made of wood, grass and mud.Many of them burned, many collapsed, and only a handful survived.They could neither see nor smell a living being.Crows swarmed over the corpses, jumping into the air and screaming as the brothers approached.The wild dogs fled before them. Under the majestic gray wall, a dying horse yelled loudly. It tried to stand up with its broken leg, but repeatedly neighed and fell down.The younger brother circled around it, then tore open its throat, the horse kicked weakly a few times, and closed its eyes.He walked towards the horse corpse, but his younger brother bit him, grabbed his ear and dragged him back, so he put his front feet around the other side and bit his younger brother's leg back.They fought among the grass and dirt and scattered ashes, wrestling over the dead horse until the younger brother fell on his back and curled his tail in submission.He took one last bite of his brother's exposed throat, and began to eat, asking his brother to join in.After eating, he helped his younger brother lick the blood off the black fur.

At this time, a call from a dark corner suddenly came, and the murmured whisper dragged him to the house where he could not see anything.The cold call, with the breath of stone, overwhelms all disturbances.He struggled against the gravitational pull.He hates the dark.He is a wolf, he is a hunter, a ranger and a killer, he belongs to the brothers and sisters in the vast forest, and he hopes to run freely under the stars.So he sat down and howled to the sky.I will not go, he shouted, I am a wolf, I will not go.However, the darkness gradually enveloped him, blindfolded his eyes, filled his nose, and covered his ears. He couldn't see, hear, smell, or run.The gray wall disappeared, the dead horse disappeared, and the younger brother disappeared, everything turned into darkness.Silence, darkness, coldness, darkness, death, darkness...

"Bran," came the soft whisper. "Bran, wake up. Wake up, Bran. Bran..." He closed his third eye and opened the other two, the old two and the blind two.Of course, humans are blind in the dark.But someone hugged him tightly, and he felt the arms around him, and felt the warmth of cuddling.Hodor kept saying, "Hodor, Hodor, Hodor," and kept silent himself. "Bran?" It was Meera's voice. "You were punching and kicking and screaming in terror. What did you see?" "It's Winterfell." He replied with some lisp.One day, when I return, I will have completely forgotten how to speak. "That's Winterfell, and it's all burning. It smells of horses, and iron, and blood. They killed everybody, Meera."

He felt her touch his face with her hands, brushing his hair. "I'm sweating a lot," she said. "Would you like some water?" "Drink water," he agreed.So she brought the leather bag over, and Bran swallowed eagerly, water running from the corner of his mouth.Each time he came back he was weak, thirsty and hungry.He remembered the dying horse, the smell of blood and the smell of roasting meat in the morning wind. "How long have I been asleep?" "Three days," Jojen said.He didn't know if the boy had just arrived softly or if he had been there all along; in this dark and dull world, Bran couldn't be sure of anything. "We're all worried about you."

"I'm with Summer," Bran said. "Too long, and you will starve your body to death. Meera gave you some water, and we put honey on your lips, but these are not enough." "I did," Bran said. "We culled a deer, and we drove away any tree cats who tried to steal it." The cat was brown and half the size of a direwolf, but it was fierce.He still remembered the musky smell of it, howling as it crouched on the oak branch. "It's the wolf that eats," Jojen said, "not you. Be careful, Bran, and remember who you are." How could he not remember his identity?He knew it all too well: Bran the boy, Bran the cripple.It's better to be Bran the beast.This taught him why he didn't miss Xia Tian, ​​why didn't he want to have wolf dreams?In this dark, cold, damp vault, his third eye finally opened.Now he can connect to Xia Tian at any time, even touched Bai Ling, and talked to Jon through him-but maybe that was just a dream!He didn't understand why Jojen was so eager to pull him back.Bran propped himself up on his hands and squirmed into a seat. "I must tell Osha what I saw. Is she here? Where has she been?"

The wild woman replied, "I'm here. My lord, it's dark here, and it's inconvenient to do anything." He heard the rubbing of his heels on the stone floor, and turned his head to look, but saw nothing.It's okay, I can smell it.Suddenly, he remembered that he lost Xia Tian's nose, and everyone had the same taste. "I pissed on that king's leg last night," said Osha. "It could have been morning, who knows? I fell asleep and just woke up." Everyone was usually asleep, as Bran was, and there was nothing to do here, I only slept, ate, ate and slept, and exchanged a few words now and then... But I didn't dare to say more, let alone speak loudly, just to ensure safety.Osha thinks it's best for everyone not to say a word, but Rickon is not easy to appease, and Hodor's murmurs can't stop it. "Hodor, Hodor, Hodor," he kept saying to himself, on and on.

"Osha," Bran said, "I see Winterfell burning." Rickon's soft breath came from the left. "It was just a dream," Osha said. "It's a wolf dream," Bran said. "I remember the smell. Blood and fire, an unusual smell." "Whose blood?" "Horse blood, dog blood, human blood, everyone's blood. We have to go and see." "I only have this skinny body," Osha said. "If the Squid Prince catches me, I will have to be skinned." Meera took Bran's hand in the dark and squeezed his fingers. "You are afraid, I will go."

Bran heard the sound of fingers groping in the leather, and then the sound of iron and stone.again and again.The spark burst out, and was gently held and cared by Osha.A long white fireworks stretched upwards, like a girl standing on tiptoe.Osha's face emerges by the fire as she lights a torch.Bran squinted as the pitch began to burn, giving the world an orange glow.Rickon woke up too, yawning and sitting up. The shadow moves with the light, and it seems that all the dead people wake up in an instant.Lyanna and Brandon, their fathers Lord Rickard Stark, Rickard's father Lord Adler, Duke William and his brothers Athos the Restless, Dukes of Donoj, Dukes of Buron With the Duke of Rodway, the one-eyed Duke Joniel, the Duke of Bath, the Duke of Brandon and the Duke of Cregan who had dueled the Dragon Knight.They sat on stone chairs, with stone direwolves at their feet.This is the hall of rest where the bones are chilled, this is the dark hall of the dead, this is the place of horror that hates the living.

The catacomb in which they hid opened wide and empty, and waited for Lord Eddard Stark, under the stately granite statue of his father, six outlaws gathered together, living on meager bread and fresh water and dried meat. "Not much," Osha whispered, blinking at the stored food, "Forget it, I have to sneak back to steal food anyway, otherwise we should eat Hodor as a snack." "Hodor," Hodor grinned at her. "Is it day or night up there?" Osha asked, "I've lost my senses." "It's daytime," Bran told her, "but the smoke is as thick as night." "Are you sure, my lord?" The broken body did not move, but he saw everything, and two worlds came into view: Osha standing with a torch on one side, and Meera, Jojen, and Hodor, and behind them, two rows of granite columns and The tall stone statue of the lord stretched into the darkness... On the other side was Winterfell, Graycastle under the billowing smoke, the majestic oak and steel gates were scorched and collapsed, the chains of the drawbridge were broken, and the planks were scattered.The moat was full of floating corpses, and it became an island for crows. "Sure." He announced. Osha thought about it for a while. "Then venture up and see, but you must follow. Bring Bran's basket, Meera." "Shall we go home?" Rickon asked excitedly. "I really want to ride a pony and eat apple cake, butter and honey. I want Fluffy. Let's find Fluffy!" "Okay," Bran promised, "but you have to behave yourself and stop talking nonsense." Meera tied the wicker basket to Hodor's back and carried Bran in, putting his useless legs in the hole.At this moment, his stomach was up and down, although he knew what was waiting for him on the ground, but he couldn't lessen his fear.Before leaving, Bran took one last look at his father, and felt that Duke Eddard's eyes were full of sadness, as if begging them not to go.We must go, he thought, without further delay. Osha held an oaken spear in one hand, a torch in the other, and a sword without sheath hung on her back-it was one of Mikken's last works, and it was originally placed in front of Duke Eddard's grave to ensure the rest of the soul.After the death of the blacksmith, the enemy occupied the armory and all the weapons were confiscated, and now he had to act urgently.Meera took Lord Rickard's sword, complaining that it was too heavy.Brandon takes the weapon from his eponymous uncle, whom he has never met.The sword felt good in his hand, but he knew it would be useless. Swords are just toys to me, Bran thought. Their footsteps echoed in the long vault.The shadows behind him engulfed father quickly, and the shadows before him receded quickly, revealing more statues—not local lords who obeyed their country, but old kings of the frigid north with stone crowns on their foreheads. "King of Submission" Toren Stark, "King of Spring" Edwin, "Hungry Wolf" Theon Stark, "Shipburner" Brandon and "Shipbuilder" Brandon, Jorah and Genos, Brandon the Wicked, Walton the Moon King, Alyon the Bridegroom, Elon, Benyan the Sweet and Benyan the Bitter, Edric the Snowbeard .These faces are firm and strong, whether they have committed heinous crimes or have been good all their lives, they are all genuine Starks.Bran knew everyone's story.He had never been afraid of the atmosphere of the vault, for it was part of his home, part of himself.He always knew that one day, he would rest in peace with them. Now, he is at a loss.If I go up, can I still come down?If I die, where should I be buried? "Wait," said Osha, when they reached the spiral staircase leading to the surface—which led down to the earth, where the older kings sat on their dark thrones, and handed the torch to Meera. "I'm going to find the way," her footsteps gradually moved away, and finally disappeared completely. "Hodor," said Hodor nervously. Bran told himself a hundred times how much he hated hiding in this dark place, how he wished he could see the light again and ride Dancing through the storm.But when the time of leaving the tomb was near, he became afraid.He is nostalgic for the sense of security in the dark. If he can't see his fingers, how can the enemy come to him?The Stone Lord also gave him courage.Although invisible, they are always there. They waited for a long time before the sound came again.Bran is already worried that something will happen to Osha.The younger brother also moved back and forth uneasily. "I'm going home!" he said aloud.Hodor kept shaking his head and said, "Hodor." The sound of footsteps gradually increased, and after a while, Osha finally appeared in the circle of light.She looked serious, "There is something blocking the door. I can't push it open." "Put Hodor on, he can push anything," Bran said. Osha inspected the burly stable boy. "Maybe, come on." The stairs are narrow and can only be walked in single file.Osha took the lead, Hodor followed, and Bran on his back quickly lowered his head to prevent his head from hitting the zenith.Meera followed with a torch, and Jojen was behind, holding Rickon by the hand.They followed the stone steps, climbing round and round, and kept going upwards.Bran seemed to smell smoke, but consoled himself that it was only torches burning. The door to the exit of the tomb is made of iron trees, old and heavy, inclined inward, allowing only one person to approach at a time.Osha pushed it several times, but it didn't budge. "Let Hodor try." They took Bran out first, so as not to be affected.Meera sat with him on the stone steps, a protective hand around his shoulder.Osha and Hodor switch places. "Open the door, Hodor," Bran said. The tall stable boy put both palms flat on the door, pushed hard and grunted a few times. "Hodor?" He slammed his fist at the wooden door, which only shook. "Hodor." "With your back," Bran urged, "and your legs." So Hodor turned around, put his back against the door, and started to push back.again and again. "Hodor!" He staggered his legs up and down on the steps, bent down, and tried his best to climb up the sloping door.The wood creaked and groaned. "Hodor!" He lowered one foot a step further, spread his legs further apart, tightened his body, and thrust straight up.His face was red, and as his strength increased, the veins in his neck burst out. "Hodo hodo hodo hodo hodo!" There was a muffled boom from above, the door suddenly sunken outward, and a beam of skylight shone on Bran's face, making him unable to see.With another push, the stone rolled and the passage opened wide.Without saying a word, Osha poked out with her spear, and then rushed out. Rickon ran through Meera's thigh and followed.Hodor pulled the door fully open before stepping onto the ground.The Reeds stayed behind to carry Bran up the last few steps. The sky was gray and thick with smoke.They stood in the shadow of the First Fort—or rather the remains of the First Fort.Half of the building collapsed.There are scattered gargoyles everywhere in the courtyard.They fell from the same place I did, Bran thought frightfully.The statues were so shattered that he couldn't help wondering how he was able to survive.Nearby, a flock of crows was pecking at a stone-bound corpse, face down, and Bran couldn't recognize it. The First Fort has not been used for hundreds of years and is now an empty shell.The floors burned, the wooden beams burned out, the walls collapsed, and you could look directly into the rooms and even the toilets.Behind it, the remnant tower still stands. It has been burned long ago, and now it is the only part that remains in its original state.Jojen Reed coughed profusely from the choking smoke. "Take me home!" Rickon demanded. "I want to go home!" Hodor stamped his feet and spun around. "Hodor," he whimpered.They huddled among the ruins, surrounded by endless death. "We were making a noise that would wake the sleeping dragon," said Osha, "but no one came. Looks like the castle really burned down, just like Bran's dream. We'd better—" There was a sound behind him, She stopped abruptly and spun around, spear in hand. Two thin black figures emerged from behind the ruined tower, running slowly across the rubble.Rickon shouted happily: "Momo!", and the black direwolf responded enthusiastically.Summer walked more slowly, squeezing Bran's arm with his head and licking his master's face. "We have to get out of here," said Jojen. "There are dead bodies everywhere, which will soon attract wolves, and more dangerous things." "That's right, we have to hurry," Osha agreed, "but we need food, and there should be plenty left in the city. Don't separate. Meera, take your shield and break it." They spent the rest of the morning walking carefully around the castle.The majestic marble city wall is still in good condition. Although it is scorched black in many places, it has not collapsed.Inside the walls became booths of death and destruction.The hall door turned into charred charcoal, the rafters disappeared without a trace, and the ceiling fell to the ground.The green and yellow panes of the glass garden were all shattered, and the trees, fruits, and flowers in them were either broken and dead, or exposed.The thatch and timber stables were gone, leaving only ashes, debris and horse carcasses.Bran couldn't help crying when he thought of Xiao Wu.A shallow steaming pool appeared under the library tower, and hot water was gushing from the gap in the tower.The bridge connecting the Clock Tower to the Crow's Nest collapsed into the courtyard below, and the tower where Maester Luwin lived next to the Clock Tower was gone.They saw a dull red light flickering in the narrow windows of the cellar below the main castle, and a fire in a storehouse was still burning. In the appalling ruins of fireworks, Osha called softly, but no one answered.One dog snuggled up to one of the corpses, huddled, but ran away at the smell of the direwolf; the rest died in the kennels.The maester's ravens were feasting on the carcass, and their kin in the ruined tower were invited to the feast.Bran vaguely recognized Pockmarked Tim, who had slashed someone in the face.Outside the remnant shell of the sanctuary, sat a charred corpse. It raised its hands and clenched into two scorched hard fists, as if beating the approaching enemy. "Gods be merciful," Osha whispered angrily, "let the White Walkers catch the sinner!" "Theon," Bran said gloomily. "No, look." She pointed the spear across the yard. "That's one of his ironmen. There's one here, too. And over there, that's Greyjoy's warhorse, see? The black horse covered in arrows." Frowning, she walked among the dead. "Here is Black Lauren." He was hacked to death, and his beard was dyed reddish brown. "It's amazing to have a few of them when you're dying." Osha turned over a corpse next to her with her foot, "There's a little guy with a badge on it, and his whole body is blood red." "It's the Skinner of the Dreadfort," Bran said. Xia Tian roared and flew away. "Godswood!" Meera chased the direwolf with a shield in one hand and a frogspear in the other.The rest followed immediately, passing through the smoke and falling rocks.The air in the forest was fresh. Although a few pine trees were burned along the edge, the moist soil and green branches in the depths defeated the flames. "There is strength in this wood," said Jojen, seeming to catch Bran's thoughts, "as much as fire." By the black pool, under the heart tree, Maester Luwin was crawling in the mud.On the wet leaves all over the ground, there is a curved bloodstain, marking the crawling track.Summer was beside him, and at first Bran thought he was dead, but the maestro moaned when Meera put his hand on his neck. "Hodor?" said Hodor sadly, "Hodor?" They lifted Maester Luwin carefully and sat him against the tree.He had always had gray eyes and gray hair, and his robe was also gray, but now he was soaked in blood, turning everything dark red. "Bran," the master called softly, seeing him perched on Hodor's back. "Rickon," he laughed, "Gods be merciful, I knew..." "Know?" Bran asked suspiciously. "Those legs, I recognize...the clothes fit, but the muscles on the legs...poor kid..." He coughed and spat blood. "You disappeared in...the forest...how...how?" "We didn't leave at all," Bran said. "Well, we only got to the edge of the woodland and turned back. I sent the direwolf to make a trail, and then we all hid in Father's grave." "It turned out to be the tomb." Luwin laughed, a stream of bloody froth emerging from his lips.The master wanted to move, but let out a sharp and painful gasp. Tears filled Bran's eyes.Whenever someone is hurt, people always go to the old bachelor, but when the master is hurt, who to go to? "We'll make you a stretcher," Osha said. "No," said Luwin, "I'm dying, woman." "You can't die," Rickon said angrily. "No, you can't die." The Shaggy Dog beside him bared his teeth and growled. The master smiled at him knowingly, "Don't quarrel, child, I have lived much longer than you, so I should... die willingly..." "Hodor, squat down," Bran said.So Hodor knelt beside the maester. "Listen," Luwin said to Osha, "the two princes...are Robb's heirs. Can't...can't go together...do you hear?" The wild woman leaned on the spear, "Yes, it's safer to separate. But where are you taking them? In my opinion, maybe to the Seven's house..." Maester Luwin shook his head vigorously, suffering from severe pain. "The Severn boy is dead. Ser Rodrik, Lambard Tallhart, Lady Hornwood...they were all killed. Deepwood Motte fell, Moat Calim was taken, and soon Torrhen's Square fell." Can't keep it. There are the Ironmen on the Stony Shore. And the East... the East is Bolton's bastard." "Where should we go then?" Osha asked. "White Harbor...to the Umbers...I don't know...There's war everywhere...everybody is attacking their neighbors...and winter's coming...so stupid, numb, crazy, stupid..." Maester Luwin reached out and grasped Bran's forearm, a desperate strength in his fingertips. "From now on, you must be strong... strong!" "I will," Bran said, barely uttering the words.Ser Rodrik was slain, Maester Luwin was dying, everyone, everyone... "Well done," said the master, "good boy. You are... your father's child, Bran. Now go." Osha looked up at the weirwood, at the red face carved in the pale trunk. "You stay with the gods?" "I beg you..." the master tried his best to endure, "take a sip...a ​​little water, and...help...if you are willing..." "Alas," she turned to Meera, "take the children away." Jojen and Meera take Rickon away.Hodor followed.They walked through the trees, low branches whipping Bran's face and leaves wiping away his tears.After a while, Osha joined them in the yard, without mentioning Maester Luwin. "Hodor will be his legs with Bran," said the wild woman brightly. "I will protect Rickon." "We go with Bran," said Jojen Reed. "Oh, I think so," said Osha. "I'll take the east gate and walk along the King's Road for a while." "Let's go through the Hunter's Gate," Meera said. "Hodor," said Hodor. Everyone went to the kitchen.Osha found several burnt but barely edible loaves, and even a cold roast duck, which she split in half.Meera unearthed a jar of honey and a large sack of apples.After the preparations, they cherished each other.Rickon wept and clung to Hodor's leg until Osha tapped him with the butt of her spear, then hurried to follow.Shaggy Dog followed his younger brother.Bran watched them go until the direwolf's tail disappeared behind the ruined tower. The iron gate of the hunter's gate was twisted and deformed by the high heat, and it could only rise a foot. They had to squeeze through under the spikes one by one. "Shall we go to your lord father?" Bran asked, crossing the drawbridge between the walls. "To Greywater Watch?" Meera looked at her brother, seeking answers. "We're going north," Jojen announced. Before entering Wolfwood, Bran turned his head over the basket to take one last look at the castle where he had lived his whole life.Wisps of smoke continued to climb into the gray sky, just like the smoke from the kitchens in Winterfell on a cold autumn afternoon.Some of the arrow holes in the outer wall were blackened, and many battlements were cracked and collapsed, but from a distance, the castle still looked the same.Behind the high walls, forts and towers stand proudly, as if they have been through the vicissitudes of thousands of years, and cannot be invaded by looting and burning.Strong stone, Bran told himself, the roots of the trees went deep into the ground, where the King of Winter's throne was, and they gave it strength.As long as they exist, Winterfell will be immortal.It's not dead, it's just broken, and like me, he thought, I'm not dead either.