tw.thestoneoffarewell-第118部分

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　　Eolair　rode　down　out　of　the　heights　of　the　Grianspog　Mountains　in　the　midst　of　the　summer's　worst　snowstorm。　The　secret　trails　that　he　and　his　men　had　so　laboriously　cut　through　the　forest　only　weeks　before　were　now　buried　beneath　three　cubits　of　drifting　white。　The　dismal　skies　hung　oppressively　close；　like　the　ceiling　of　a　tomb。　His　saddlebags　were　crammed　with　carefully…drawn　maps；　his　head　with　brooding　thoughts。
　　Eolair　knew　there　was　no　use　pretending　that　the　land　was　suffering　only　a　long　bout　of　freakish　weather。　A　grievous　sickness　was　spreading　over　Osten　Ard。　Perhaps　Josua　and　his　father's　sword　truly　were　tied　up　in　something　vaster　than　the　wars　of　men。
　　The　Count　of　Nad　Mullach　was　suddenly　reminded　of　his　own　words；　uttered　over　the　King's　Great　Table　a　year　before…Gods　of　earth　and　sky；　he　thought；　but　didn't　it　seem　a　lifetime　since　those　relatively　peaceful　days！　〃Evil　is　abroad。。。〃　he　had　told　the　assembled　knights　that　day。　〃It　is　not　only　bandits　who　prey　on　travelers　and　cause　the　disappearance　of　isolated　jarmers。　The　people　of　the　North　are　afraid。。。〃
　　Not　only　bandits。。。　Eolair　shook　his　head；　disgusted　with　himself。　He　had　been　so　caught　up　in　the　day…to…day　matters　of　his　people's　struggle　to　survive　that　he　had　failed　to　heed　his　own　warning。　There　were　indeed　greater　menaces　to　fear　than　Skali　of　Kaldskryke　and　his　cutthroat　army。
　　Eolair　had　heard　stories　told　by　survivors　of　the　fall　of　Naglimund；　the　bewildered　accounts　of　a　ghostly　army　raised　by　Elias　the　High　King。　From　the　days　of　his　childhood　Eolair　had　heard　tales　of　the　White　Foxes；　demons　who　lived　in　the　blackest；　coldest　lands　of　the　uttermost　north；　who　appeared　like　a　plague；　then　vanished　again。　All　during　this　last　year　the　Frostmarch　dwellers　had　whispered　over　their　night…fires　of　just　such　pale　demons。　How　foolish　that　Eolair　of　all　people　should　not　have　realized　the　truth　behind　these　tales…had　he　not　spoken　of　just　that　at　the　Great　Table！？
　　But　what　could　it　all　mean？　If　they　were　truly　involved；　why　should　creatures　like　these　White　Foxes　side　with　Elias？　Could　it　have　something　to　do　with　that　monstrous　priest　Pryrates？
　　The　Count　of　Nad　Mullach　sighed；　then　leaned　far　to　the　side　to　help　his　horse　balance　as　they　made　their　way　down　a　treacherous　hill　path。　Perhaps　for　all　her　foolishness；　Maegwin　had　been　right　to　set　this　task　for　him。　But　still；　that　was　no　justification　for　the　way　in　which　she　had　done　it。　Why　should　she　treat　him　as　she　did　in　the　underground　city；　after　all　he　had　done　for　her　family　and　the　faithful　service　he　had　given　her　father　King　Lluth？　The　terror　and　strangeness　of　their　situation　might　be　the　reason　for　such　unkindness；　but　it　was　no　excuse。
　　Such　thoughtlessness　was　yet　another　odd　change　in　Maegwin's　demeanor；　the　latest　of　many。　He　feared　for　her　deeply；　but　could　think　of　no　way　to　help。　She　despised　his　solicitousness；　and　seemed　to　think　he　was　little　more　than　a　sly　courtier…Eolair；　who　hated　falsity；　yet　had　been　driven　to　master　it　in　the　loyal　service　of　her　father！　When　he　tried　to　help；　she　insulted　him　and　turned　her　back：　he　could　only　watch　her　sickening　as　the　land　around　him　had　sickened；　her　mind　filling　with　strange　fancies。　He　could　do　nothing。
　　Eoiair　was　two　days　making　his　way　down　through　the　silent　valleys　of　the　Grianspog；　with　only　his　own　cold　thoughts　for　pany。　
　　It　was　astonishing　to　see　how　quickly　Skali　was　making　his　occupation　of　Hernystir　permanent。　Not　content　with　taking　over　those　houses　and　buildings　still　standing　in　Hernysadharc　and　the　surrounding　villages；　the　Thane　of　Kaldskryke　had　begun　to　construct　new　ones；　great　longhouses　of　rough…hewn　timbers。　The　Circoille　Forest　fringe　was　shrinking　rapidly；　replaced　by　a　growing　expanse　of　mutilated　tree　stumps。
　　Eolair　made　his　way　along　the　ridgetops；　watching　the　antlike　figures　swarming　over　the　flatlands　below。　The　clatter　of　hammer　on　wedge　rang　through　the　snowy　hills。
　　He　could　not　at　first　understand　why　Skali　should　need　to　build　more　dwelling　places：　the　conqueror's　army；　while　of　good　size；　was　hardly　so　vast　that　it　could　not　harbor　itself　in　the　Hernystiri's　abandoned　dwellings。　It　was　only　when　Eolair　looked　away　to　the　lowering　northern　skies　that　he　realized　what　was　happening。
　　All　Skali's　Rimmersfolk　must　he　ing　here　from　the　North…old　and　young；　women　and　children。　He　stared　down　at　the　tiny；　industrious　shapes。　If　it's　snowing　in　Hernysadharc　in　late　Tiyagar…month；　it　must　be　a　frozen　hell　up　by　Naarved　and　Skoggey。　Bagba　bite　me；　what　a　thought！　Skali　has　chased　us　into　the　caves。　Now　he　will　move　his　Rimmersgarders　onto　our　captured　lands。
　　Despite　all　that　his　folk　had　already　suffered　at　the　hands　of　Skali　Sharp…nose's　warriors；　despite　King　Lluth　struck　down；　Prince　Gwythinn　tortured　and　dismembered；　and　hundreds　of　Eolair's　own　brave　Mullachi　dead　beneath　the　gray　skies　of　the　western　meadows；　the　count　found　suddenly　and　to　his　surprise　that　he　contained　depths　of　anger　and　raw　hatred　yet　unplumbed。　Skali's　men　strutting　in　the　roads　of　Hernysadharc　was　bad　enough；　but　the　thought　of　them　bringing　their　women　and　families　to　live　on　Hernystiri　land　filled　Eolair　with　an　unchanneled　rage　stronger　than　he　had　felt　since　the　first　Hernystirmen　had　fallen　at　the　Inniscrich。　Helpless　on　the　ridgetop；　he　cursed　the　invaders　and　promised　himself　that　he　would　see　Skali's　jackals　whipped　howling　back　to　Kaldskryke…those　who　did　not　die　on　the　precious　Hernystiri　soil　that　they　had　usurped。
　　Suddenly；　the　Count　of　Nad　Mullach　longed　for　the　purity　of　battle。　The　Hernystiri　forces　had　been　so　savaged　at　Inniscrich　that　they　had　been　unable　to　fight　anything　but　rearguard　actions　since。　Now　they　had　been　driven　into　hiding　in　the　Grianspog　and　there　was　little　they　could　do　but　harrass　the　victors。　Gods；　he　thought；　but　it　would　be　fine　to　swing　steel　in　the　open　once　more；　to　line　up　breast　to　breast　with　shields　flashing　sunlight　and　sound　the　charge！　The　count　knew　it　was　a　foolish　craving；　knew　himself　for　a　careful　man　who　always　preferred　talking　sensibly　to　fighting；　but　just　now　he　craved　simplicity。　Open　warfare；　for　all　its　witless　violence　and　horror；　could　seem　a　sort　of　beautiful　idiocy　into　which　one　could　throw　oneself　as　into　the　arms　of　a　lover。　Now　the　call　of　that　pelling　but　dangerous　lover　was　growing　stronger。　Whole　nations　seemingly　on　the　march；　topsy…turvy　weather；　mad　men　ruling　and　dire　legends　e　to　life…how　he　suddenly　longed　for　simple　things！
　　But　even　as　he　yearned　for　unthinking　release；　Eolair　knew　that　he　would　hate　its　ing　to　be：　the　fruits　of　violence　did　not　necessarily　go　to　the　just　or　the　wise。
　　
　　Eolair　skirted　Hernysadharc's　westernmost　outposts　and　circled　far　around　the　largest　encampments　of　Skali's　Rimmersmen；　who　had　spread　across　the　meadowlands　beneath　Hernystir's　capital。　He　rode　instead　through　the　hilly　country　called　the　Dillathi；　wliich　stood　like　a　bulwark　along　Hernystir's　coast　as　if　to　prevent　invasion　by　sea。　Indeed；　the　Dillathi　would　have　presented　a　nearly　impossible　problem　for　any　would…be　conqueror；　but　the　invasion　which　had　undone　Hernystir　had　e　from　the　opposite　direction。
　　The　highland　folk　were　a　suspicious　lot；　but　they　had　grown　used　to　war…fugitives　in　the　past　year；　so　Eolair　was　able　to　find　wele　in　a　few　houses。　Those　who　took　him　in　were　far　more　interested　in　his　news　than　the　fact　that　their　guest　was　the　Count　of　Nad　Mullach。　These　were　days　when　gossip　was　the　most　valued　coin　in　the　country。
　　So　far　from　the　cities；　no　one　had　known　much　of　Prince　Josua　in　the　first　place；　let　alone　how　his　struggle　with　the　High　King　might　be　somehow　connected　to　Hernystir's　plight。　No　one　in　the　Dillathi　country　had　the　slightest　idea　of　whether　King　Ellas'　brother　Josua　was　alive　or　dead；　let　alone　where　he　might　be。　But　the　highlanders　had　heard　of　their　own　King　Lluth's　mortal　wounding　from　the　tales　of　wanderering　sol…diers；　survivors　of　the　fighting　at　the　Inniscrich。　Thus；　Eolair's　hosts　were　usually　heartened　to　discover　from　him　that　Lluth's　daughter　still　lived；　and　that　a　Hernystiri　court…in…exile　of　sorts　still　existed。　Before　the　war　they　had　thought　little　of　what　the　king　in　the　Taig　said　or　did；　but　he　had　been　part　of　their　lives　nonetheless。　Eolair　guessed　they　found　it　reassuring　that　at　least　a　shadow　of　the　old　kingdom　remained；　as　though　the　continued　existence　of　Lluth's　family　somehow　assured　that　the　Rimmersmen　would　eventually　be　forced　out。
　　ing　down　out　of　the　Dillathi；　Eolair　steered　wide　of　high…walled　Crannhyr；　Hernystir's　strangest　and　most　insular　city；　guiding　his　horse　instead　toward　Abaingeat　at　the　mouth　of　the　River　Baraillean。　He　was　unsurprised　to　find　that　the　Hernystirmen　of　Abaingeat　had　found　a　way　to　live　under　the　heavy　hands　of　both　Elias　and　Skali；　Abaingeaters　had　a　reputation　for　flexibility。　It　was　a　mon　joke　in　other　parts　of　the　country　to　refer　to　the　port　city　as　〃Extremely　North　Perdruin〃　because　of　the　shared　affection　for　profits　and　dislike　of　politics…the　kind　of　politics　that　interfered　with　business；　anyway。
　　It　was　also　in　Abaingeat　that　Eolair　received　his　first　real　clue　to　Josua's　whereabouts；　and　it　happened　in　a　very　typical　Abaingeat　way。
　　Eolair　shared　a　supper　table　with　a　Nabbanai　priest　in　an　inn　along　the　waterfront。　The　wind　was　howling　and　rain　was　beating　on　the　roof；　making　the　mon　room　rumble　like　a　drum。　Under　the　very　eyes　of　bearded　Rimmersmen　and　haughty　Erkynlanders…Hernystir's　new　con…　querors…the　good　father；　who　had　perhaps　had　one　tankard　of　ale　too　many；　told　Eolair　a　disjointed　but　fascinating　story。　He　had　just　arrived　from　the　Sancellan　Aedonitis　in　Nabban；　and　he　swore　that　he　had　been　told　by　someone　there；　someone　he　characterized　as　〃the　most　important　priest　in　the　Sancellan；〃　that　Josua　Lackhand　had　survived　Naglimund　with　seven　other　survivors；　had　made　his　way　eastward　through　the　grasslands　to　safety。　These　facts　had　been　told　to　him；　the　priest　said；　only　under　the　condition　of　his　plete　discretion。
　　Immediately　after　telling　this　tale；　Eolair's　panion；　full　of　drunken　remorse；　begged　him　swear　to　secrecy…as；　the　count　felt　sure；　the