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双语·凯斯宾王子 第十三章 至尊王指挥

所属教程:译林版·凯斯宾王子

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2022年05月02日

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CHAPTER 13 THE HIGH KING IN COMMAND

“NOW,” said Peter, as they finished their meal, “Aslan and the girls (that's Queen Susan and Queen Lucy, Caspian) are somewhere close. We don't know when he will act. In his time, no doubt, not ours. In the meantime he would like us to do what we can on our own. You say, Caspian, we are not strong enough to meet Miraz in pitched battle.”

“I'm afraid not, High King,” said Caspian. He was liking Peter very much, but was rather tongue-tied. It was much stranger for him to meet the great Kings out of the old stories than it was for them to meet him.

“Very well, then,” said Peter, “I'll send him a challenge to single combat.” No one had thought of this before.

“Please,” said Caspian, “could it not be me? I want to avenge my father.”

“You're wounded,” said Peter. “And anyway, wouldn't he just laugh at a challenge from you? I mean, we have seen that you are a king and a warrior but he thinks of you as a kid.”

“But, Sire,” said the Badger, who sat very close to Peter and never took its eyes off him. “Will he accept a challenge even from you? He knows he has the stronger army.”

“Very likely he won't,” said Peter, “but there's always the chance. And even if he doesn't, we shall spend the best part of the day sending heralds to and fro and all that. By then Aslan may have done something. And at least I can inspect the army and strengthen the position. I will send the challenge. In fact I will write it at once. Have you pen and ink, Master Doctor?”

“A scholar is never without them, your Majesty,” answered Doctor Cornelius.

“Very well, I will dictate,” said Peter. And while the Doctor spread out a parchment and opened his ink-horn and sharpened his pen, Peter lent back with half-closed eyes and recalled to his mind the language in which he had written such things long ago in Narnia's golden age.

“Right,” he said at last. “And now, if you are ready, Doctor?”

Doctor Cornelius dipped his pen and waited. Peter dictated as follows:

“Peter, by the gift of Aslan, by election, by prescription, and by conquest, High King over all Kings in Narnia, Emperor of the Lone Islands and Lord of Cair Paravel, Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Lion, to Miraz, Son of Caspian the Eighth, sometime Lord Protector of Narnia and now styling himself King of Narnia, Greeting. Have you got that?”

“Narnia, comma, greeting,” muttered the Doctor. “Yes, Sire.”

“Then begin a new paragraph,” said Peter. “For to prevent the effusion of blood, and for the avoiding all other inconveniences likely to grow from the wars now levied in our realm of Narnia, it is our pleasure to adventure our royal person on behalf of our trusty and well-beloved Caspian in clean wager of battle to prove upon your Lordship's body that the said Caspian is lawful King under us in Narnia both by our gift and by the laws of the Telmarines, and your Lordship twice guilty of treachery both in withholding the dominion of Narnia from the said Caspian and in the most abhominable,—don't forget to spell it with an H, Doctor—bloody, and unnatural murder of your kindly lord and brother King Caspian Ninth of that name. Wherefore we most heartily provoke, challenge, and defy your Lordship to the said combat and monomachy, and have sent these letters by the hand of our well beloved and royal brother Edmund, sometime King under us in Narnia, Duke of Lantern Waste and Count of the Western March, Knight of the Noble Order of the Table, to whom we have given full power of determining with your Lordship all the conditions of the said battle. Given at our lodging in Aslan's How this XII day of the month Greenroof in the first year of Caspian Tenth of Narnia.”

“That ought to do,” said Peter, drawing a deep breath. “And now we must send two others with King Edmund. I think the Giant ought to be one.”

“He's—he's not very clever, you know,” said Caspian.

“Of course not,” said Peter. “But any giant looks impressive if only he will keep quiet. And it will cheer him up. But who for the other?”

“Upon my word,” said Trumpkin, “if you want someone who can kill with looks, Reepicheep would be the best.”

“He would indeed, from all I hear,” said Peter with a laugh. “If only he wasn't so small. They wouldn't even see him till he was close!”

“Send Glenstorm, Sire,” said Trufflehunter. “No one ever laughed at Centaur.”

An hour later two great lords in the army of Miraz, the Lord Glozelle and the Lord Sopespian, strolling along their lines and picking their teeth after breakfast, looked up and saw coming down to them from the wood the Centaur and Giant Wimbleweather, whom they had seen before in battle, and between them a figure they could not recognise. Nor indeed would the other boys at Edmund's school have recognised him if they could have seen him at that moment. For Aslan had breathed on him at their meeting and a kind of greatness hung about him.

“What's to do?” said the Lord Glozelle. “An attack?”

“A parley, rather,” said Sopespian. “See, they carry green branches. They are coming to surrender most likely.”

“He that is walking between the Centaur and the Giant has no look of surrender in his face,” said Glozelle. “Who can he be? It is not the boy Caspian.”

“No indeed,” said Sopespian. “This is a fell warrior, I warrant you, wherever the rebels have got him from. He is (in your Lordship's private ear) a kinglier man than ever Miraz was. And what mail he wears! None of our smiths can make the like.”

“I'll wager my dappled Pomely he brings a challenge, not a surrender,” said Glozelle.

“How then?” said Sopespian. “We hold the enemy in our fist here. Miraz would never be so hair-brained as to throw away his advantage on a .”

“He might be brought to it,” said Glozelle in a much lower voice.

“Softly,” said Sopespian. “Step a little aside here out of earshot of those sentries. Now. Have I taken your Lordship's meaning aright?”

“If the King undertook wager of battle,” whispered Glozelle, “why, either he would kill or be killed.”

“So,” said Sopespian, nodding his head.

“And if he killed we should have won this war.”

“Certainly. And if not?”

“Why, if not, we should be as able to win it without the King's grace as with him. For I need not tell your Lordship that Miraz is no very great captain. And after that, we should be both victorious and kingless.”

“And it is your meaning, my Lord, that you and I could hold this land quite as conveniently without a King as with one?”

Glozelle's face grew ugly. “Not forgetting,” said he, “that it was we first put him on the throne. And in all the years that he has enjoyed it, fruits have come our way? What gratitude has he shown us?”

“Say no more,” answered Sopespian. “But look—here comes one to fetch us to the King's tent.”

When they reached Miraz's tent they saw Edmund and his two companions seated outside it and being entertained with cakes and wine, having already delivered the challenge, and withdrawn while the King was considering it. When they saw them thus at close quarters the two Telmarine lords thought all three of them very alarming.

Inside, they found Miraz, unarmed and finishing his breakfast. His face was flushed and there was a scowl on his brow.

“There!” he growled, flinging the parchment across the table to them. “See what a pack of nursery tales our jackanapes of a nephew has sent us.”

“By your leave, Sire,” said Glozelle. “If the young warrior whom we have just seen outside is the King Edmund mentioned in the writing, then I would not call him a nursery tale but a very dangerous knight.”

“King Edmund, pah!” said Miraz. “Does your Lordship believe those old wives' fables about Peter and Edmund and the rest?”

“I believe my eyes, your Majesty,” said Glozelle.

“Well, this is to no purpose,” said Miraz, “but as touching the challenge, I suppose there is only one opinion between us?”

“I suppose so, indeed, Sire,” said Glozelle.

“And what is that?” asked the King.

“Most infallibly to refuse it,” said Glozelle. “For though I have never been called a coward, I must plainly say that to meet that young man in battle is more than my heart would serve me for. And if (as is likely) his brother, the High King, is more dangerous than he—why, on your life, my Lord King, have nothing to do with him.”

“Plague on you!” cried Miraz. “It was not that sort of counsel I . Do you think I am asking you if I should be afraid to meet this Peter (if there is such a man)? Do you think I fear him? I wanted your counsel on the policy of the matter; whether we, having the advantage, should hazard it on a wager of battle.”

“To which I can only answer, your Majesty,” said Glozelle, “that for all reasons the challenge should be refused. There is death in the strange knight's face.”

“There you are again!” said Miraz, now thoroughly angry. “Are you trying to make it appear that I am as great a coward as your Lordship?”

“Your Majesty may say your pleasure,” said Glozelle sulkily.

“You talk like an old woman, Glozelle,” said the King. “What say you, my Lord Sopespian?”

“Do not touch it, Sire,” was the reply. “And what your Majesty says of the policy of the thing comes in very happily. It gives your Majesty excellent grounds for a refusal without any cause for questioning your Majesty's honour or courage.”

“Great Heaven!” exclaimed Miraz, jumping to his feet. “Are you also bewitched today? Do you think I am looking for grounds to refuse it? You might as well call me coward to my face.”

The conversation was going exactly as the two lords wished, so they said nothing.

“I see what it is,” said Miraz, after staring at them as if his eyes would start out of his head, “you are as lily-livered as hares yourselves and have the effrontery to imagine my heart after the likeness of yours! Grounds for a refusal, indeed! Excuses for not fighting! Are you soldiers? Are you Telmarines? Are you men? And if I do refuse it (as all good reasons of captaincy and martial policy urge me to do) you will think, and teach others to think, I was afraid. Is it not so?”

“No man of your Majesty's age,” said Glozelle, “would be called by any wise soldier for refusing the combat with a great warrior in flower of his youth.”

“So I'm to be a dotard with one foot in the grave, as well as a dastard,” roared Miraz. “I'll tell you what it is, my Lords. With your womanish counsels (ever shying from the true point, which is one of policy) you have done the very opposite of your intent. I had meant to refuse it. But I'll accept it. Do you hear, accept it! I'll not be shamed because some witchcraft or treason has frozen both your bloods.”

“We beseech your Majesty—” said Glozelle, but Miraz had flung out of the tent and they could hear him bawling out his acceptance to Edmund.

The two lords looked at one another and chuckled quietly.

“I knew he'd do it if he were properly chafed,” said Glozelle. “But I'll not forget he called me coward. It shall be paid for.”

There was a great stirring at Aslan's How when the news came back and was communicated to the various creatures. Edmund, with one of Miraz's captains, had already marked out the place for the combat, and ropes and stakes had been put round it. Two Telmarines were to stand at two of the corners, and one in the middle of one side, as marshals of the lists. Three marshals for the other two corners and the other side were to be furnished by the High King. Peter was just explaining to Caspian that he could not be one, because his right to the throne was what they were fighting about, when suddenly a thick, sleepy voice said, “Your Majesty, please.” Peter turned and there stood the eldest of the Bulgy Bears. “If you please, your Majesty,” he said, “I'm a bear, I am.”

“To be sure, so you are, and a good bear too, I don't doubt,” said Peter.

“Yes,” said the Bear. “But it was always a right of the bears to supply one marshal of the lists.”

“Don't let him,” whispered Trumpkin to Peter. “He's a good creature, but he'll shame us all. He'll go to sleep and he will suck his paws. In front of the enemy too.”

“I can't help that,” said Peter. “Because he's quite right. The Bears had that privilege. I can't imagine how it has been remembered all these years, when so many other things have been forgotten.”

“Please, your Majesty,” said the Bear.

“It is your right,” said Peter. “And you shall be one of the marshals. But you must remember not to suck your paws.”

“Of course not,” said the Bear in a very shocked voice.

“Why, you're doing it this minute!” bellowed Trumpkin.

The Bear whipped his paw out of his mouth and pretended he hadn't heard.

“Sire!” came a shrill voice from near the ground.

“Ah—Reepicheep!” said Peter after looking up and down and round as people usually did when addressed by the Mouse.

“Sire,” said Reepicheep. “My life is ever at your command, but my honour is my own. Sire, I have among my people the only trumpeter in your Majesty's army. I had thought, perhaps, we might have been sent with the challenge. Sire, my people are grieved. Perhaps if it were your pleasure that I should be a marshal of the lists, it would content them.”

A noise not unlike thunder broke out from somewhere overhead at this point, as Giant Wimbleweather burst into one of those not very intelligent laughs to which the nicer sorts of Giant are so liable. He checked himself at once and looked as grave as a turnip by the time Reepicheep discovered where the noise came from.

“I am afraid it would not do,” said Peter very gravely. “Some humans are afraid of mice—”

“I had observed it, Sire,” said Reepicheep.

“And it would not be quite fair to Miraz,” Peter continued, “to have in sight anything that might abate the edge of his courage.”

“Your Majesty is the mirror of honour,” said the Mouse with one of his admirable bows. “And on this matter we have but a single mind.... I thought I heard someone laughing just now. If anyone present wishes to make me the subject of his wit, I am very much at his service—with my sword—whenever he has leisure.”

An awful silence followed this remark, which was broken by Peter saying, “Giant Wimbleweather and the Bear and the Centaur Glenstorm shall be our marshals. The combat will be at two hours after noon. Dinner at noon precisely.”

“I say,” said Edmund as they walked away, “I suppose it is all right. I mean, I suppose you can beat him?”

“That's what I'm fighting him to find out,” said Peter.

第十三章 至尊王指挥

“眼下,”他们吃完早餐后,彼得说,“阿斯兰和女孩们(凯斯宾,我说的是苏珊女王和露西女王)就在附近。我们不知他何时行动。无疑,时机由他掌握,而不是我们。在这期间,他希望我们做些力所能及的事。凯斯宾,你讲过,我们的实力不足以跟米亚兹的军队激战。”

“恐怕不行,至尊王。”凯斯宾说。他很喜欢彼得,可感觉自己心拙口笨。与古老传说中的伟大君王面对面,双方都觉得新奇,凯斯宾的新奇感要比对方的感受来得更强烈。

“好吧,那么,”彼得说,“我会给他发一封挑战书,来场单挑。”这提议以前没人想到。

“听我说,”凯斯宾说,“不能让我来挑战吗?我想为父报仇。”

“你受了伤,”彼得说,“再说,他恐怕会嘲笑你发出的挑战吧?我是说,我们了解你既是一位国王,又是一名勇士,可他把你看作一个小孩子。”

“可是,陛下,”獾说,他坐得离彼得很近,一直注视着他,“他会接受哪怕是来自你的挑战吗?他清楚他军队的实力更强。”

“很可能他不会接受,”彼得说,“不过,还是有这个可能。就算他不接受,我们来回互派使者等事宜会占用大半天时间。到那时,阿斯兰可能已有所作为。而且至少我可以在这期间视察军队,加强工事。我打算发出挑战书。我现在就写。有笔墨吗,博士大师?”

“学者笔墨不离身,陛下。”科涅利尔斯回答。

“很好,我来口述。”彼得说。博士铺开一张羊皮纸,打开墨水盒,削尖笔头,彼得趁这当口仰靠着,半闭着眼,回忆他当年写此类文书的措辞,那是很久以前,在纳尼亚的黄金时代。

“好了,”他终于开口,“现在,可以开始了吗,博士?”

科涅利尔斯博士将笔蘸了蘸墨水,等他口述。彼得口述如下:

“彼得,由阿斯兰授予,通过民选,经由法令批准,凭借战功,被封为纳尼亚所有国王的至尊王,孤独岛的皇帝,凯尔帕拉维尔的君主,至尊狮王军团骑士,向米亚兹,凯斯宾八世之子,前纳尼亚护国公,现自封为纳尼亚国王,致意。写下来了吗?”

“纳尼亚国王,逗号,致意。”博士喃喃自语,“写好了,陛下。”

“然后另起一段,”彼得说,“为避免血流成河,为避免我们的王国纳尼亚遭受战争的摧残,我乐于代表深受热爱和信赖的凯斯宾,向阁下挑战,决斗断讼,证明上述凯斯宾为纳尼亚的合法国王,其王权由我们授予,由台尔马法律赋予。阁下犯下双重背叛大罪,其一,篡夺上述凯斯宾对纳尼亚的统治权,其二,犯下可怕的恶行(别忘了这里要强调一下,博士),残忍、违背人伦,谋杀善良的国王,你自己的兄弟,凯斯宾九世。因此,我们强烈地向阁下提出上述挑战,一对一决斗。挑战书由我深受爱戴的御弟埃德蒙递交,他是前纳尼亚之王,蓝登荒原公爵,西征伯爵,石桌军团骑士,他全权负责商定与阁下决斗的所有细节。决斗定于凯斯宾十世元年本月绿顶月十二日,在阿斯兰堡垒驻地开战。”

“应该可以了,”彼得深吸了一口气,“我们另派两人跟埃德蒙同往。我觉得那巨人应该算一个。”

“你要知道,他……他不怎么机灵。”凯斯宾说。

“当然不机灵,”彼得说,“只要不吭声,巨人的外表还是引人注目的。派他去能让他振奋起来。另一个派谁去好?”

“照我看,”特鲁普金说,“要是想找个光凭气势就能把人镇住的,里皮契普是最好的人选。”

“他确实是,就我所闻,”彼得笑着说,“要是他不是个小个子就好了。敌人要靠近才能看到他!”

“派格兰斯托姆,陛下,”特鲁弗亨特说,“没人会嘲笑马人。”

一小时后,米亚兹军队里的两个首领,格罗赛尔勋爵和索斯皮安勋爵在早饭后,正沿着他们的阵线散步,剔着牙,他们抬头见到马人和巨人威伯维德正从树林里向他们走来,这两人他们在战场上见过,中间的那个人他们不认识。埃德蒙学校的男同学要是见到此刻的他也会认不出来。因为在见面时,阿斯兰给他吹了口气,他周身都洋溢着英雄气概。

“他们要干什么?”格罗赛尔勋爵说,“攻击?”

“相反,是和谈,”索斯皮安说,“瞧,他们拿着绿枝。他们很可能是来投降的。”

“走在马人和巨人中间的那人没有投降的神色,”格罗赛尔说,“他会是谁?不是凯斯宾那男孩。”

“确实不是,”索斯皮安说,“无论那帮叛民从哪儿把他找来,他都是一个厉害的勇士,我跟你保证。他比(私下跟你说吧)米亚兹更有王者气概。他穿的盔甲多神气!我们的工匠打造不出这样的。”

“我赌上我那匹斑点马波利,他带来的是挑战书,而不是投降书。”格罗赛尔说。

“怎么会呢?”索斯皮安说,“敌军已经被控制在我们手里了。米亚兹不会蠢到放弃他的战场优势。”

“可以哄他上当。”格罗赛尔压低了嗓音说。

“小声,”索斯皮安说,“离这里远点儿,别让那些哨兵听见。这下好啦。我没误会阁下刚才的意思吧?”

“要是国王应承下这场决斗断讼,”格罗赛尔低声说,“那么,其结果不是他杀死对手,就是被杀。”

“没错。”索斯皮安点头说。

“要是他杀死对方,这场仗我们就打赢了。”

“确实如此。那要不是那样呢?”

“哟,如果不是,没有国王我们一样能打赢这场仗。无须告知阁下,米亚兹不是什么明主。他死后,我们既赢得了胜利,还没了国王的管治。”

“大人,你意思是,没有国王,你我照样能轻易地控制这个王国?”

格罗赛尔面目狰狞起来。“别忘了,”他说,“是我们把他放上宝座的。这么多年来,他享受王权,我们得到了什么好处?他有对我们表示感激吗?”

“别再说了,”索斯皮安答道,“瞧,来人了,召我们去国王的营帐。”

他们来到米亚兹的帐篷,见到埃德蒙和他的两个同伴坐在帐外,享用着招待他们的蛋糕和葡萄酒,他们刚递交了战书,退出帐外等国王考虑。如此近距离地打量,这两个台尔马首领觉得这三人让人心惊。

营帐里,他们见到米亚兹,没有佩带武器,正吃着早餐。他气红了脸,皱着眉头。

“瞧!”他吼着,从桌子另一头朝他们扔过来那张羊皮纸,“瞧我那傲慢的侄子给我们带来了一堆多幼稚的故事。”

“请恕罪,陛下,”格罗赛尔说,“假如我们刚在外面见到的那个年轻勇士就是信上提到的埃德蒙王,我不会觉得他是一个童话故事,而是把他当作一个危险的骑士。”

“埃德蒙王,呸!”米亚兹说,“阁下相信那些有关彼得、埃德蒙,以及诸如此类的无稽之谈?”

“我相信自己的眼睛,陛下。”格罗赛尔说。

“唉,这么做毫无意义,”米亚兹说,“但就战书而论,我想我们的意见是一致的吧?”

“我想是的,确实如此,陛下。”格罗赛尔说。

“说说你的看法。”国王问。

“绝对要拒绝,”格罗赛尔说,“虽说没人称我为懦夫,但我得直率地说,跟那年轻人对战,我没这个胆量。要是他的兄弟,那个至尊王,比他还危险(这是可能的),那么,为了自家性命,陛下,别去招惹他。”

“真该死!”米亚兹喊道,“我要的不是这种建议。你以为,我是在问敢不敢碰这个彼得吗(要是真有此人的话)?你以为我怕他?我要听的是你对此事有何计策;在有优势的情况下,我们是否该冒险,来一场决斗断讼?”

“对此我只能回答,陛下,”格罗赛尔说,“无论何种缘由,必须拒绝这个挑战。那个陌生骑士的脸上有杀气。”

“你又来了!”米亚兹怒气冲冲地说,“你想让人以为我跟你一样怯懦?”

“陛下怎么说都行。”格罗赛尔闷闷不乐地说。

“你跟老妇一般见识,格罗赛尔,”国王说,“你怎么看,索斯皮安?”

“不予理会,陛下,”他回答,“陛下提到的关于此事的计策就在于此。这使得陛下有充分的理由拒绝,又不会引起对陛下荣誉与勇气的质疑。”

“天啊!”米亚兹惊呼着一跃而起,“你今天也着魔了?你以为我在找拒绝的理由?你还不如当面骂我懦夫。”

对话的发展正中他们下怀,所以他们一声不吭。

“我看出来了,”米亚兹说,狠盯着他们俩,眼睛似乎都要瞪出来了,“你们自己跟兔子一样胆小,还厚颜无耻地以为我跟你们一样胆怯!找拒绝的理由,好哇!找借口不战!你们还是战士吗?你们还是台尔马人吗?你们是男人吗?要是我真拒绝了(以君主的职责和军事策略等各种充分理由拒绝),你们就会以为,也诱导别人以为,我惧惮了。不是这样吗?”

“像陛下这样的年纪,”格罗赛尔说,“拒绝跟一个正值壮年的伟大勇士决斗,任何明智的士兵都不会把这样的人称为懦夫。”

“这么说,我不但是个胆小鬼,还是一个行将就木的老糊涂,”米亚兹咆哮道,“我告诉你们我的决定,我的大臣们。你们这些女人见识(不敢面对问题,玩手段),恰恰让你们的目的落了空。我本打算拒绝的。但我要接受挑战。听到了吗,接受!我不会因为你们中邪或者意图不轨,而变得胆怯,让自己蒙羞。”

“我们恳求陛下……”格罗赛尔还没说完,米亚兹就冲出了营帐,接着他们听见他对埃德蒙大嚷着表示接受挑战。

这两位大臣互视对方,低声轻笑。

“我就知道,只要适当地激怒他,他会接受的,”格罗赛尔说,“不过,我不会忘记他把我叫作胆小鬼。我要报复。”

消息传回,大家听了传达,这下阿斯兰堡垒骚动起来。埃德蒙跟米亚兹的一个上尉画出了决斗场地,又用木桩和绳子围上。两个台尔马人站在其中的两个边角,第三人站在场地一侧的中间,他们都是决斗场的司令官。另外两个边角和另一侧中间位置所需的司令官由至尊王派出。彼得正跟凯斯宾解释,他不能担任其中一员,因为他们决斗的缘由就是为了他的王位继承权,这时突然有一个懒洋洋的粗嗓门:“陛下,打搅一下。”彼得转过身来,面前站着那头最年长的胖熊。“请听我说,陛下,”他说,“我是一头熊,我是。”

“无可否认,你是熊,而且还是一头了不起的熊,我对此毫不怀疑。”彼得说。

“没错,”熊说,“熊要当决斗场的司令官,这是熊的权利。”

“别让他去,”特鲁普金低声对彼得说,“他是个好家伙,但他会让我们大家出丑。他老打瞌睡,还老吮吸熊掌。在敌人面前也这么干。”

“我无法阻止,”彼得说,“因为他说对了。熊有这个特权。我真想不到,过了这么多年,这一点还有人记着,而很多传统已经被遗忘了。”

“求您了,陛下。”熊说。

“这是你的权利,”彼得说,“你将是司令官之一。但切记不要吮手掌。”

“当然不会了。”熊很吃惊地说。

“瞧,你这会儿又吮上了!”特鲁普金怒吼。

熊快速地把熊掌从嘴里拿出,假装没听见。

“陛下!”地面附近传来一个尖厉的嗓音。

“啊——里皮契普!”彼得四下寻找,听到老鼠打招呼人们通常都会这样。

“陛下,”里皮契普说,“我的性命供陛下驱使,但我的荣誉是属于我个人的。陛下,我的队伍中有陛下军队里唯一的号手。我曾以为,没准儿,我们会被派去下战书。陛下,我的士兵很伤心。如果陛下允许的话,让我当司令官,这会让他们满意。”

这时头顶某处传来雷鸣似的响声,巨人威伯维德突然发出傻呵呵的笑声,脾气好些的巨人常会发出这样的笑声。他马上克制住了自己,一脸严肃,这时里皮契普知道了响声来源。

“这恐怕不行,”彼得很严肃地说,“有些人类害怕老鼠……”

“我注意到了,陛下。”里皮契普说。

“而且这对米亚兹不太公平,”彼得继续道,“如果见到某些让他泄气的东西。”

“陛下是真君子,”老鼠说,崇敬地鞠了一躬,“在这件事情上,我们看法一致……我想我刚才听见有人在嘲笑。如果在场的哪个想嘲弄我,我会乐于为他效劳——用我的剑——随时恭候。”

话音落下,又是一阵尴尬的沉默,彼得打破沉默说:“巨人威伯维德、熊和马人格兰斯托姆将作为我们的司令官。决斗在午后两点开始。中午十二点准时吃饭。”

“喂,”大家离开后,埃德蒙说,“我想会顺利的吧。我是说,我想你能打败他吧?”

“这要打了才能知道。”彼得说。

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