Lord Wyman Manderly had arrived from White Harbor two days past, traveling by barge and litter, as he was too fat to sit a horse. With him had come a long tail of retainers: knights, squires, lesser lords and ladies, heralds, musicians, even a juggler, all aglitter with banners and surcoats in what seemed half a hundred colors. Bran had welcomed them to Winterfell from his father's high stone seat with the direwolves carved into the arms, and afterward Ser Rodrik had said he'd done well. If that had been the end of it, he would not have minded. But it was only the beginning.
两天前，威曼·曼德勒伯爵刚从白港抵达，先搭游艇，后乘轿子，只因他过于肥胖，无法骑马。他带来大批手下：骑士、侍从、小领主和他们的太太、传令官、乐师，还有个杂耍班子，旗帜和衣着耀眼夺目，五光十色。布兰坐在父亲的高背冰原狼扶手石椅上，欢迎他们光临临冬城，事后罗德利克爵士称赞他表现很好。如果事情到此为止，那该有多好，只可惜这只是开始。

The feast makes a pleasant pretext, Ser Rodrik explained, "but a man does not cross a hundred leagues for a sliver of duck and a sip of wine. Only those who have matters of import to set before us are like to make the journey."
“参加宴会是个不错的藉口，”罗德利克爵士解释，“但他大老远跑来，绝不只为了吃片烤鸭喝口美酒。一定有要紧事需我们经手，才会这么大费周章。”
Bran gazed up at the rough stone ceiling above his head. Robb would tell him not to play the boy, he knew. He could almost hear him, and their lord father as well. Winter is coming, and you are almost a man grown, Bran. You have a duty.
布兰抬头望向粗石屋顶。他知道，罗柏一定会叫他别再孩子气，他几乎能听到罗柏的话语，听到父亲大人的话语：“凛冬将至，而你已经快成年了，布兰，你有责任在身。”
When Hodor came bustling in, smiling and humming tunelessly, he found the boy resigned to his fate. Together they got him washed and brushed. "The white wool doublet today," Bran commanded. "And the silver brooch. Ser Rodrik will want me to look lordly."
过了一会儿，当阿多口中哼着不成调的曲子，满脸笑容地跑进来时，小男孩已经认了命。在阿多的帮助下，他梳洗一番，“今天穿那件白色的羊毛外衣，”布兰命令，“还有那个银胸针，罗德利克爵士要我穿得有领主的样子。”