tw.thestoneoffarewell-第43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！


　think　pursue　you？〃
　　〃I。。。　I　knew　that；〃　Isorn　muttered；　abashed。　〃But　I　had　not　thought　of　it　that　way。　Their　arrows　and　swords　were　real；　that　was　all　I　could　think　of。　〃
　　〃As　were　the　arrows　and　swords　of　your　ancestors；　Rimmersmanne；　which　accounts　for　some　of　the　bad　blood　between　your　folk　and　theirs。　The　difference　is；　though　King　Fingil's　reavers　killed　many　Sithi　with　their　blades　of　black　iron；　Fingil　and　your　other　ancestors　at　last　aged　and　died。　The　Children　of　the　East　do　not　die…at　least；　not　in　such　a　time　as　you　can　understand…and　neither　do　they　forget　old　wrongs。　If　they　are　old；　they　are　all　the　more　patient　for　it。〃　She　stood　up；　looking　about　for　Leieth；　who　had　wandered　off。　〃Let　us　go；〃　she　called　sharply。　〃Time　to　nurse　wounds　when　we　have　passed　through。〃
　　〃Passed　through　where？〃　Deornoth　asked　〃How？　You　never　told　us。〃
　　〃Nor　need　I　waste　my　breath　now；〃　she　said　〃We　will　be　there　soon。〃
　　The　light　was　fading　fast　and　the　footing　was　treacherous；　but　Geloe　was　an　unflagging　guide。　She　had　increased　the　pace；　waiting　only　long　enough　for　the　first　stragglers　to　catch　up　before　pushing　on　again。　The　sky　had　taken　on　night's　earliest　hues　when　the　riverbed　bent　again。　A　darker　shape　suddenly　loomed　before　them；　a　shadow　tall　as　the　trees　and　blacker　than　the　surrounding　obscurity。　The　walkers　stumbled　to　a　halt；　those　who　could　summon　the　breath　moaning　in　weariness。
　　Geloe　took　an　unlit　brand　from　her　bag；　handing　it　to　Einskaldir。　His　sour　remark　died　in　his　throat　as　she　narrowed　her　yellow　eyes。　〃Take　this　and　put　flint　and　steel　to　it；〃　she　said　〃We　will　at　least　need　some　light　where　we　are　going。〃
　　A　furlong　or　less　from　where　they　stood；　the　streambed　vanished　into　darkness　as　it　entered　a　vast　hole　in　the　hillside；　an　arched　mouth　whose　dressed　stones　had　been　almost　pletely　engulfed　by　a　clinging　blanket　of　moss
　　 Einskaldir　struck　with　his　axe　head；　a　flint　spark　jumped；　igniting　the　torch。　Its　growing　yellow　light　brought　forward　other　stones　that　shone　pale　beneath　the　overgrown　frontage。　Trees　of　great　size　and　age　had　thrust　out　from　the　hillside　above　the　arch；　pushing　aside　the　facing　in　their　reach　toward　the　sun。
　　〃A　tunnel　all　the　way　through　the　hill？〃　Deornoth　gasped。
　　〃The　Old　Ones　were　mighty　builders；〃　Geloe　said；　〃but　never　better　than　when　they　built　around　the　things　earth　had　already　grown；　so　that　city　lived　together　with　forest　or　mountain　〃
　　Sangfugol　coughed。　〃It　looks。。。　an　abode　of　ghosts；〃　he　whispered。
　　Geloe　snorted。　〃Even　if　so；　they　are　not　the　dead　that　you　should　fear。〃　She　seemed　about　to　say　something　else　when　there　was　a　hiss　and　a　smack。　Suddenly　an　arrow　was　shivering　in　the　trunk　of　a　cypress　near　Einskaldir's　head。
　　〃You　who　would　flee；〃　a　cold　voice　called；　echoing　so　that　it　was　impossible　to　discern　its　source；　〃you　must　surrender　now。　We　have　spared　you　thus　far；　but　we　may　not　allow　you　to　cross　through。　We　will　destroy　you　all。〃
　　〃Aedon　preserve　us！〃　Duchess　Gutrun　wept；　her　great　courage　finally　weakening。　〃Save　us；　Lord！〃　She　sagged　down　onto　the　wet　turf。　
　　〃It　is　the　torch！〃　Josua　said；　ing　up　quickly。　〃Put　out　the　torch；　Einskaldir。　〃
　　〃No；〃　Geloe　said；　〃you　will　never　find　your　way　in　the　dark。〃　She　raised　her　voice　〃Hikeda'yei！'　she　cried；　〃do　you　know　who　I　am？〃
　　〃Yes；　we　know　you；　old　woman；〃　the　voice　said。　〃But　whatever　respect　you　might　deserve　was　lost　the　moment　you　threw　in　your　lot　with　these　mortals。　The　world　could　have　spun　on；　leaving　you　undisturbed　in　your　solitary　house…but　you　would　not　let　well　enough　alone。　Now　you　also　are　unbowed；　and　must　go　naked　like　a　crab　with　no　shell。　You　too　can　die；　old　woman。〃
　　〃Douse　the　torch；　Einskaldir；〃　Josua　snapped；　〃we　can　light　another　when　we　have　reached　shelter。〃
　　The　Rimmersman　stared　at　the　prince　for　a　moment。　Darkness　had　arrived　but　for　the　torch's　rippling　flame；　Josua　would　never　have　seen　him　smile。
　　〃Don't　wait　too　long　to　follow　me；〃　was　all　Einskaldir　said。　A　moment　later　he　had　dashed　away　down　the　riverbed　toward　the　great　arch；　the　flame　held　high　over　his　head。　Arrow　hissed　past　his　panions　as　the　Rimmersman；　now　only　a　leaping　spot　of　light；　swerved　and　dodged。　〃Go！　Up　and　run！〃Josua　cried。　〃Help　the　one　nearest　you。　Run！'''　Someone　was　shouting　in　an　alien　tongue…indeed；　the　whole　forest　seemed　suddenly　alive　with　noise。　Deornoth　reached　down　and　caught　at　Sanfugol's　arm；　dragging　the　wounded　harper　to　his　feet；　and　together　they　plunged　through　the　overhanging　greenery　after　the　dwindling　spark　of　Einskaldir's　torch。
　　Branches　slapped　at　their　faces　and　snatched　at　their　eyes　with　cruel　talons。　Another　shout　of　pain　rang　out　before　them　and　the　shrill　cries　redoubled。　Deornoth　turned　to　look　briefly　over　his　shoulder。　A　swarm　of　pale　shapes　were　sweeping　forward　over　the　misty　ground；　faces　whose　pitchy　eyes　filled　him　with　despair；　even　from　afar。　
　　Something　struck　the　side　of　Deornoth's　head　violently；　staggering　him。　He　could　hear　Sangfugol　sobbing　in　pain　as　the　harper　tugged　at　his　elbow。　For　a　long　moment　it　seemed　to　the　knight　that　it　would　be　easier　just　to　lie　on　the　ground。
　　〃Merciful　Aedon；　give　me　rest；〃　he　heard　himself　praying；　〃in　Your　arms　will　I　sleep；　upon　Thy　bosom　I　will　take　my　peace　。。。〃　but　Sangfugol　would　not　stop　pulling　at　him。　Dazed；　irritated；　he　stumbled　to　his　feet　once　more　and　saw　a　scatter　of　stars　gleaming　through　the　treetops。
　　Not　enough　light　to　see　under　the　hill；　he　thought；　then　noticed　he　was　running　again。　But　running　or　not；　Deornoth　thought；　he　and　Sangfugol　were　moving　very　slowly：　the　dark　smear　on　the　hillside　didn't　seem　to　be　getting　any　closer。　He　put　his　head　down　and　watched　his　feet；　dim；　shadowy　shapes　slipping　on　the　muddy　streambed。
　　My　head。　I've　hurt　my　head　again　。　。　。
　　The　next　thing　Deornoth　knew；　he　had　plunged　into　darkness　as　abruptly　as　if　someone　had　thrown　a　sack　over　him。　He　felt　more　hands　take　his　elbows　and　help　him　forward。　His　head　felt　curiously　light　and　empty。
　　〃There's　the　torch；　ahead；〃　someone　said　nearby。
　　That　sounds　like　Josua's　voice；　Deornoth　decided。　Is　he　under　the　sack；　too？
　　He　staggered　on　a　few　steps　and　saw　a　light　glowing。　He　looked　down；　trying　to　make　sense　of　it　all。　Einskaldir　sat　on　the　ground；　leaning　against　a　stone　wall　that　rose　and　curved　overhead。　The　Rimmersman　held　a　torch　in　his　hand。　There　was　blood　in　his　beard。
　　〃Take　this；〃　Einskaldir　said　to　no　one　in　particular。　〃I've　got。　。　。　arrow　in　。。。　back。　Can't　。　。　。　breathe　。　。　。〃　He　sagged　slowly　forward　against　Josua's　leg。　It　looked　so　odd　that　Deornoth　tried　to　laugh；　but　couldn't。　The　empty　feeling　was　spreading。　He　bent　forward　to　help　Einskaldir；　but　instead　found　himself　down　a　deep　black　hole。
　　〃Usires　save　us；　look　at　Deornoth's　head！〃　someone　cried。　He　didn't　recognize　the　voice；　and　wondered　who　it　was　they　were　so　upset　about　。　。　。　Then　the　darkness　had　returned　and　it　was　hard　to　think。　The　hole　that　he　had　fallen　into　seemed　very　deep　indeed。
　　
　　
　　Rachel　the　Dragon；　the　Hayholt's　Mistress　of　Chambermaids；　lifted　her　bundle　of　wet　linens　higher　on　her　shoulders；　trying　to　find　the　balance　least　trying　to　her　aching　back。　It　was　useless；　of　course：　there　would　be　no　ending　to　the　pain　until　God　the　Father　gathered　her　up　to　Heaven。
　　Rachel　was　feeling　distinctly　un…Dragonlike。　The　chambermaids　who　had　given　her　the　name　long　ago；　when　the　force　of　Rachel's　will　had　been　all　that　stood　between　the　age…old　Hayholt　and　the　tides　of　decay；　would　have　been　surprised　to　see　her　as　she　was　now…a　bent；　plaining　old　woman。　She　was　surprised　herself。　A　chance　reflection　in　a　silver　serving　tray　one　recent　morning　had　shown　her　a　gaunt…faced　harridan　with　dark…circled　eyes。　It　had　been　many　a　long　year　since　she　had　thought　much　about　her　looks；　but　still；　this　seemed　a　shocking　transformation。
　　Had　it　been　only　four　months　since　Simon　died？　It　felt　like　years。　That　had　been　the　day　when　she　felt　things　beginning　to　slip　away　from　her。　She　had　always　lorded　over　the　Hayholt's　vast　household　like　a　tyrant　river…captain；　but　despite　her　young　charges'　whispered　plaints；　the　work　had　always　gotten　done。　Mutinous　talk　had　never　bothered　Rachel　much；　in　any　case：　she　knew　that　life　was　but　a　long　struggle　against　disorder；　and　that　disorder　was　the　inevitable　winner。　Rather　than　leading　her　to　accept　the　futility　of　her　role；　however；　this　knowledge　instead　had　whipped　Rachel　on　to　greater　resistance。　Her　parents'　fierce　northern　Aedonite　faith　had　taught　her　that　the　more　hopeless　the　struggle；　the　more　crucial　it　was　to　struggle　valiantly。　But　some　of　the　life　had　leaked　out　of　her　when　Simon　died　in　the　smoking　inferno　that　had　been　Doctor　Morgenes'　chambers。
　　Not　that　he　had　been　a　well…behaved　boy…no；　far　from　it。　Simon　had　been　willful　and　disobedient；　a　woolgatherer　and　a　mooncalf。　He　had；　however；　brought　a　certain　irritating　liveliness　to　Rachel's　life。　She　would　have　even　weled　the　sputtering　rages　into　which　he　provoked　her…if　only　he　were　still　here。
　　In　fact；　it　was　still　hard　to　believe　he　was　dead。　Nothing　could　have　survived　the　firing　of　the　Doctor's　quarters…caused　when　some　of　Morgenes'　devilish　potions　had　caught　flame；　or　so　members　of　the　king's　Erkynguards　had　informed　her。　The　fused　wreckage　and　shattered　beams　made　it　impossible　to　suppose　anyone　in　the　room　could　have　lived　for　more　than　a　few　moments。　But　she　could　not　feel　that　he　was　really　dead。　She　had　been　almost　a　mother　to　the　boy；　had　she　not？　Raised　him…with　the　help　of　her　chambermaids；　of　course…since　his　first　hour；　when　his　mother　had　died　in　childbirth　despite　all　Doctor　Morgenes'　attempts　to　save　her。　So　shouldn't　Rachel　know　if　he　was　truly　gone？　Shouldn't　she　feel　the　final　severing　of　the　cord　that　had　bound　her　to　that　stupid；　addle…pated；　gawky　boy？
　　Oh；　merciful　Rhiap；　she　thought；　are　you　crying　again；　old　woman？　Your　brains　have　gone　soft　as　sweetmeats。
　　Rachel　knew　of　other　domestics　who　had　lost　actual　birth…children　and　still　talked　about　them　as　if　they　were　alive；　so　why　should　she　feel　any　differently　about　Simon？　It　didn't　change　anything。　The　boy　was　undeniably　dead；