tw.thestoneoffarewell-第104部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


ters　were　made　by　someone　educated。　But　who　would　carve　the　princess'　name　in　such　an　out　of　the　way　place？　Barnabas　the　sexton　used　this　closet；　no　doubt；　but　the　idea　of　that　sour；　juiceless；　leathery　old　lizard　carving　Miriamele's　name　laboriously　into　the　door　beggared　even　Rachel's　imagination；　and　Rachel　could　imagine　men　mitting　virtually　any　evil　or　stupidity　if　freed　from　the　proper　influence　of　women。　Even　so；　sexton　Barnabas　as　a　pining　lover　was　too　much　to　conceive。
　　Her　thoughts　were　wandering；　Rachel　chided　herself　angrily。　Was　she　indeed　so　old　and　fearful　that　she　must　distract　herself　at　a　time　when　she　had　many　important　things　to　think　about？　A　plan　had　been　forming　in　her　mind　since　the　night　she　and　the　other　chambermaids　had　rescued　Jeremias　but　a　part　of　her　wanted　to　forget　about　it；　wanted　things　to　just　be　the　way　they　once　were。
　　Nothing　will　ever　be　the　same；　you　old　fool。　Face　up　to　it。
　　It　was　harder　and　harder　to　hide　from　such　decisions　these　days。　Confronted　with　the　runaway　chandler's　lad；　Rachel　and　her　charges　had　eventually　realized　that　there　was　no　solution　but　to　help　him　escape；　so　they　had　smuggled　him　out　of　the　Hayholt　one　day's　end；　Jeremias　disguised　as　a　chambermaid　returning　home　to　Erchester。　As　she　watched　the　ill…used　boy　go　limping　to　safety；　Rachel　had　been　seized　by　a　revela…　tion：　the　evil　haunting　her　home　could　be　ignored　no　longer。　And；　she　now　thought　grimly；　where　the　Mistress　of　Chambermaids　saw　that　which　was　foul；　she　must　make　it　clean。
　　Rachel　heard　the　scuffling　of　heavy　boots　across　the　white　stone　floor　of　the　bell…chamber　and　risked　a　peek　through　the　narrow　opening。　The　king's　green…cloaked　form　was　just　disappearing　through　the　doorway。　She　listened　as　his　steps　descended　and　grew　fainter；　then　waited　a　long　while　after　they　had　passed　from　her　hearing　altogether　before　she　clambered　back　down　the　ladder。　She　stepped　out　from　behind　the　curtain　into　the　airiness　of　the　stairwell；　then　patted　at　her　forehead　and　cheeks；　which　were　damp　with　perspiration　despite　the　cold　stone。　Stepping　carefully　and　quietly；　she　began　to　descend。
　　The　king's　conversation　had　told　her　much　that　she　needed　to　know。　Now；　she　must　only　wait　and　think。　Surely　planning　such　a　thing　could　not　be　half　as　plicated　as　manding　a　spring　cleaning？　And；　in　a　way；　that　was　what　she　planned；　was　it　not？
　　Her　old　bones　aching；　but　her　face　stretched　in　an　odd　smile　that　would　have　set　her　chambermaids　to　shuddering；　Rachel　walked　slowly　down　Green　Angel　Tower's　endless　stairway。
　　
　　
　　Binabik's　eyes　would　not　meet　Sludig's　across　the　cookfire。　Instead；　the　troll　swept　his　sad　pile　of　knuckle…bones　back　into　their　bag。　He　had　cast　them　several　times　that　morning。　The　results　seemed　to　give　him　little　pleasure。
　　Sighing；　the　troll　pocketed　the　sack；　then　turned　and　poked　in　the　ashes　of　the　fire　with　a　stick；　digging　out　their　breakfast；　a　cache　of　nuts　that　he　had　located　and　dug　from　the　frozen　ground。　It　was　a　bitterly　cold　day；　and　their　saddlebags　were　empty　of　food。　Binabik　was　not　above　stealing　from　squirrels。
　　〃Do　not　speak；〃　the　troll　said　abruptly。　After　an　hour　of　silence；　Sludig　had　just　opened　his　mouth。　〃Please；　Sludig；　for　a　moment　be　saying　nothing。　Just　the　flask　of　kangkang　from　your　pocket　I　am　asking　for。〃
　　The　Rimmersman　sadly　handed　over　the　flask。　Binabik　took　a　long　swallow；　then　wiped　the　sleeve　of　his　jacket　across　his　mouth。　The　sleeve　made　another　pass　across　the　troll's　eyes。
　　〃A　promise　I　made；〃　he　said　quietly。　〃I　was　asking　for　two　night's　fires　and　you　gave　them。　Now　I　must　be　fulfilling　the　oath　that　of　all　I　would　be　most　happily　breaking。　We　must　take　the　sword　to　the　Stone　of　Farewell。〃
　　Sludig　began　to　speak；　but　instead　accepted　the　flask　back　from　Binabik　and　took　a　deep　draught。
　　Qantaqa　returned　from　a　hunting　foray　to　discover　the　troll　and　the　Rimmersman　wordlessly　bundling　their　few　belongings　onto　the　pack…　horses。　The　wolf　watched　them　for　a　moment；　then　uttered　a　low　moan　of　distress　and　danced　away。　She　curled　up　at　the　edge　of　the　clearing　and　peered　solemnly　at　Binabik　and　Sludig　over　the　fence　of　her　brushy　tail。
　　Binabik　lifted　the　White　Arrow　out　of　the　saddle　bag　and　held　it　up；　then　pressed　its　wooden　shaft　against　his　cheek；　the　arrow　shone　more　brightly　than　the　powdery　snow　lying　all　around。　He　tucked　the　arrow　back　into　the　bag。　〃I　will　be　back　for　you；〃　the　little　man　said　to　no　one　present。　〃I　will　find　you。〃
　　He　called　for　Qantaqa。　Sludig　swung　up　into　his　own　saddle　and　they　vanished　into　the　forest；　the　string　of　pack　horses　following。　The　downsifting　snow　began　to　fill　in　their　footprints。　By　the　time　the　muffled　sounds　of　their　passage　faded；　all　trace　of　their　presence　m　the　clearing　was　gone。
　　
　　
　　Sitting　in　one　place　lamenting　his　fate　wasn't　going　to　do　him　much　good；　Simon　decided。　In　any　case；　the　sky　was　being　unpleasantly　dark　for　mid…morning　and　snow　was　beginning　to　fall　more　heavily。　He　stared　ruefully　at　the　looking　glass。　Whatever　Jiriki's　mirror　might　be；　the　Sithi　prince　had　spoken　truth　when　he　said　that　it　would　not　bring　him　magically　to　Simon's　side。　He　put　it　back　m　his　cloak　and　stood　up；　rubbing　his　hands。
　　It　was　possible　that　Binabik　and　Sludig　were　still　somewhere　close　by：　perhaps；　like　Simon；　they　had　also　been　tumbled　from　their　mounts　and　were　in　need　of　help。　He　had　no　idea　how　long　he　had　lain　helplessly　in　the　grip　of　sleep；　listening　to　the　Sitha…woman　speaking　through　his　dreams…it　might　have　been　hours　or　days。　His　panions　could　still　be　close　by；　or　they　might　have　given　up　on　him。　They　could　be　leagues　away。
　　Pondering　the　bleak　possibilities；　he　began　walking　in　what　he　hoped　was　an　expanding　spiral；　something　he　dimly　remembered　Binabik　suggesting　as　a　good　thing　to　do　when　people　were　lost。　It　was　difficult　to　know　if　this　spiral…walking　was　exactly　the　right　thing　to　do；　however；　since　he　was　not　sure　precisely　who　was　lost。　Also；　he　had　not　paid　particularly　close　attention　when　the　little　man　had　explained　how　one　calculated　this　spiral…the　troll's　woodcraft　lecture　had　concerned　the　movement　of　sun；　the　coloration　of　bark　and　leaves；　the　direction　certain　tree　roots　sprouted　as　they　lay　in　running　water；　but　at　the　time　Binabik　had　been　explaining　these　things；　Simon　had　been　watching　a　three…legged　lizard　slowly　limping　along　the　Aldheorte　Forest　floor。　It　was　a　shame　Binabik　had　not　tried　to　make　his　explanation　a　little　more　interesting；　Simon　thought；　but　it　was　too　late　to　do　anything　about　it　now。
　　He　tramped　on　through　the　thickening　snowfall　as　the　sun　rose　invisibly　behind　the　smother　of　clouds。　The　brief　afternoon　arrived；　then　almost　immediately　began　preparing　to　leave。　The　wind　blew　and　the　storm　seized　Aldheorte　in　its　frosty　fingers　and　squeezed。　The　cold　jabbed　at　Simon　through　his　cloak；　which　began　to　feel　as　thin　as　a　lady's　summer　veil；　it　had　seemed　adequate　while　he　was　still　in　the　pany　of　friends；　but　when　he　thought　about　it；　he　could　not　remember　the　last　time　he　had　felt　truly　warm。
　　As　the　day　of　unrewarded　snow…trudging　dragged　on；　his　stomach　began　to　ache　as　well。　He　had　last　eaten　in　Skodi's　house…the　memory　of　the　meal　and　its　aftermath　dislodged　one　of　the　few　remaining　shivers　that　the　cold　wind　had　not　yet　discovered。　Who　could　say　how　much　time　had　passed　since　then？
　　Holy　Aedon；　he　prayed；　give　me　food。　The　thought　became　a　sort　of　verse　that　echoed　over　and　over　in　his　head　in　time　with　the　crunching　of　snow　beneath　his　boots。
　　Unfortunately；　this　was　a　problem　that　would　not　go　away　by　thinking　of　something　else。　Neither　had　it　gotten　as　bad　as　it　could　get。　Simon　knew　he　could　not　get　any　more　lost　than　he　was　at　that　moment；　but　he　could　bee　a　great　deal　more　hungry。
　　In　his　time　with　Binabik　and　the　soldiers　he　had　gotten　used　to　others　doing　the　hunting　and　gathering；　when　he　had　helped；　it　was　usually　at　someone　else's　direction。　Suddenly　he　was　as　alone　as　he　had　been　during　those　first　awful　days　in　Aldheorte　after　he　had　fled　the　Hayholt。　He　had　been　dreadfully　hungry　then；　and　had　survived　until　the　troll　found　him；　but　that　had　not　been　winter　weather。　He　had　also　been　able　to　pilfer　from　isolated　freeholdings。　Now　he　wandered　in　a　frozen　and　unpeopled　wilderness　that　made　his　earlier　sojourn　in　the　forest　seem　an　afternoon　outing。
　　The　storm　winds　rose　in　pitch。　The　very　air　seemed　to　grow　suddenly　colder；　sending　Simon　into　a　fresh　spasm　of　trembling。　As　the　forest　began　to　darken　ever　so　slightly；　sending　the　first　warning　that　even　this　weak　daylight　could　not　last　forever；　Simon　found　himself　fighting　back　a　rising　surge　of　horror。　All　day　long　he　had　tried　to　ignore　the　faint　scrabbling　of　its　claws　at　times　he　had　felt　as　though　he　walked　along　the　edge　of　an　abyss；　a　pit　which　had　no　bottom；　no　limit。
　　In　a　situation　like　this；　Simon　realized；　it　would　be　very　easy　to　go　mad…not　to　spring　suddenly　into　arm…waving　lunacy；　like　a　beggerman　ranting　on　Tavern　Row；　but　rather　to　slip　over　into　quiet　madness。　He　would　make　some　unrecognized　misstep　and　topple　slowly；　helplessly　into　the　abyss　whose　nearness　seemed　at　that　moment　so　unarguably　clear。　He　would　fall　and　fall　until　he　did　not　even　remember　that　he　was　falling　anymore。　His　real　life；　his　memories；　the　friends　and　the　home　he　had　once　had；　all　would　dwindle　until　they　were　nothing　but　ancient；　dusty　objects　inside　a　head　like　a　boarded…up　cottage。
　　Was　that　what　dying　was　like；　he　suddenly　wondered？　Did　a　part　of　you　stay　in　your　body；　as　in　Skodi's　ghastly　song？　Did　you　lie　in　the　earth　and　feel　your　thoughts　dwindling　away　bit　by　bit；　like　a　sandbar　broken　down　and　earned　off　by　a　flowing　stream？　And　now　that　he　thought　of　it；　would　that　be　so　terrible　after　all…to　lie　in　the　damp　and　dark　and　just　slowly　cease　to　be？　Might　it　not　be　better　than　the　frantic　concerns　of　the　living；　the　useless　struggle　against　impossible　odds；　the　panicky　and　pointless　flight　from　death's　ultimate　vlctory？
　　To　give　in。　To　just　stop　fighting。。。
　　It　had　a　pacific　sound　to　it；　like　a　sad　but　pretty　song。　It　seemed　a　gentle　promise；　a　kiss　before　sleeping。。。
　　Simon　was　falling