Ned, the king whispered when he saw him. His face was pale as milk. "Come...closer."
“奈德，”国王看见他的脸，便小声说。他的脸色苍白一如牛奶。“靠……近一点。”
His men brought him close. Ned steadied himself with a hand on the bedpost. He had only to look down at Robert to know how bad it was. "What...?" he began, his throat clenched.
奈德的侍卫扶他上前。他一手撑着床柱，稳住身子。他只需低头看劳勃一眼，便知伤势有多严重。“是什么……？”他开口欲问，喉咙却仿佛被钳子夹住。
A boar. Lord Renly was still in his hunting greens, his cloak spattered with blood.
“是一只野猪。”蓝礼公爵仍穿着绿色猎装，斗篷上全是血。
A devil, the king husked. "My own fault. Too much wine, damn me to hell. Missed my thrust."
“一头该死的恶魔。”国王嘶声道，“我自己失误。酒喝多了，结果没射中，我活该下地狱。”
And where were the rest of you? Ned demanded of Lord Renly. "Where was Sir Barristan and the Kingsguard?"
“你们都在干什么？”奈德质问蓝礼公爵，“巴利斯坦爵士和御林铁卫都跑哪儿去了？”
Renly's mouth twitched. "My brother commanded us to stand aside and let him take the boar alone."
蓝礼撇撇嘴。“我哥哥他命令我们站一边儿去，好让他单独对付那只野猪。”
Eddard Stark lifted the blanket.
艾德·史塔克揭开毛毯。
They had done what they could to close him up, but it was nowhere near enough. The boar must have been a fearsome thing. It had ripped the king from groin to nipple with its tusks. The wine-soaked bandages that Grand Maester Pycelle had applied were already black with blood, and the smell off the wound was hideous. Ned's stomach turned. He let the blanket fall.
他们已经竭尽所能为他缝合，但效果依旧不明显。那野猪一定是头可怕的家伙，它用两根长牙把国王从下体一直撕裂到胸部。派席尔国师用来包扎的浸酒纱布已经染满鲜血，散发的气味更是骇人。奈德的胃一阵翻搅。他松开毛毯。
Stinks, Robert said. "The stink of death, don't think I can't smell it.
“臭死了，”劳勃道，“这就是死亡的臭气，别以为我闻不出来。