tw.thestoneoffarewell-第49部分

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hung　down　beside　his　pale；　handsome　face。　His　eyes　were　as　alert　as　a　child's；　with　an　air　almost　of　hidden　mischief。　Miriamele　could　not　help　paring　him　to　Count　Streawe；　the　lord　of　Perdruin。　Streawe's　lined　face　had　been　suffused　with　cunning。　Ranessin　looked　much　more　innocent；　but　Miriamele　did　not　need　Dinivan's　assurances　to　believe　that　a　great　deal　went　on　behind　the　lector's　gentle　exterior。
　　〃Well；　my　dear　princess；〃　Ranessin　said　when　they　had　seated　themselves；　〃I　have　not　seen　you　since　your　grandfather's　funeral。　My；　you　have　grown…but　what　odd　clothes　you　wear；　my　lady。〃　He　smiled。　〃Wele　to　God's　house。　Do　you　lack　for　anything？〃
　　〃Not　in　the　way　of　food　or　drink；　Your　Sacredness。〃
　　Ranessin　frowned。　〃I　am　not　a　lover　of　titles；　and　mine　is　particularly　awkward　upon　the　tongue。　When　I　was　a　young　man　in　Stanshire；　I　never　dreamed　I　would　end　out　my　life　in　far　Nabban；　being　called　'Sacred'　and　'Exalted'　and　never　hearing　my　birth　name　again。〃
　　〃Isn't　Ranessin　your　real　name？〃　Miriamele　asked。
　　The　lector　laughed。　〃Oh；　no。　I　was　born　an　Erkynlander；　hight　Osvilne。　But　since　Erkynlanders　are　seldom　elevated　to　such　heights；　it　seemed　politic　to　take　a　Nabbanai　name。〃　He　reached　out　to　pat　softly　at　her　hand。　〃Now；　speaking　of　assumed　names；　Dinivan　tells　me　you　have　traveled　far　and　seen　much　since　you　left　your　father's　house。　Will　you　tell　me　something　of　your　journeys？〃
　　Dinivan　nodded　encouragingly；　so　Miriamele　took　a　deep　breath　and　began　to　talk。
　　As　the　lector　listened　attentively；　she　spoke　of　her　father's　growing　madness　and　how　it　had　at　last　driven　her　from　the　Hayholt；　of　the　evil　counsels　of　Pryrates；　and　of　the　imprisoning　of　Josua。　Brighter　sunlight　began　to　creep　in　through　the　windows　high　overhead。　Dinivan　got　up　to　have　someone　bring　them　some　food；　as　the　noon　hour　was　fast　approaching。
　　 〃This　is　fascinating；〃　the　lector　said　as　they　waited　for　his　secretary　to　return。　〃It　confirms　many　rumors　that　I　have　heard。〃　He　rubbed　his　finger　along　the　side　of　his　thin　nose。　〃Lord　Usires　grant　us　wisdom。　Why　can　men　not　be　content　with　what　they　have？〃
　　Dinivan　soon　returned；　followed　by　a　priest　with　a　heaping　salver　of　cheese　and　fruit；　as　well　as　a　posset　of　mulled　wine。　Miriamele　began　again。　As　she　talked　and　ate；　and　as　Ranessin　plied　her　with　gentle　yet　shrewd　questions；　she　began　to　feel　almost　as　though　she　spoke　with　some　kindly　old　grandfather。　She　told　him　of　the　Norn　hounds　that　had　pursued　her　and　the　maidservant　Leieth；　then　of　their　rescue　by　Simon　and　Binabik。　As　she　told　of　the　revelations　in　the　house　of　the　witch　woman　Geloe；　and　related　Jarnauga's　dire　warnings　at　Naglimund；　Dinivan　and　the　lector　exchanged　glances。
　　When　she　had　finished；　the　lector　pushed　his　tall　hat　back　into　place…it　had　slipped　down　several　times　during　the　course　of　the　audience…and　sat　back　in　his　chair　with　a　sigh。　His　bright　eyes　were　sad。
　　〃So　much　to　think　about；　so　many　dreadful　questions　unanswered。　Oh；　God；　You　have　seen　fit　to　test　Your　children　sternly。　I　have　a　premonition　of　dire　evil　ing。〃　He　turned　to　Miriamele。　〃Thank　you　for　your　news；　Princess。　It　is　none　of　it　happy；　but　only　a　fool　desires　cheerful　ignorance　and　I　try　not　to　be　a　fool。　That　is　my　heaviest　burden。〃　He　pursed　his　lips　in　thought。　〃Well；　Dinivan；〃　he　said　at　last；　〃this　lends　an　even　more　ominous　air　to　the　news　I　received　yesterday。〃
　　〃What　news　is　that；　Sacredness？〃　Dinivan　asked。　〃We　have　had　little　chance　to　talk　since　I　returned。〃
　　The　lector　took　a　sip　of　wine。　〃Elias　is　sending　Pryrates　to　see　me。　His　ship　arrives　tomorrow　from　the　Hayholt。　His　mission；　the　message　said；　is　an　important　one　from　the　High　King。〃
　　〃Pryrates　is　ing？〃　Miriamele　asked；　alarmed。　〃Does　my　father　know　I'm　here？〃
　　〃No；　no；　do　not　fear；〃　the　lector　said　soothingly。　He　patted　her　hand　again。　〃It　is　Mother　Church　with　whom　he　would　trade　words。　No　one　knows　you　are　here　but　Dinivan　and　myself。〃
　　〃He's　a　devil；〃　she　said　harshly。　〃Do　not　trust　him。〃
　　Ranessin　nodded　gravely。　〃Your　warning　is　well　taken；　Princess　Miriamele；　but　sometimes　it　is　my　duty　to　speak　with　devils。〃　He　lowered　his　eves　to　stare　at　his　hands；　as　if　hoping　to　find　clutched　therein　a　solution　to　all　problems。　When　Dinivan　took　Miriamele　out；　the　lector　bid　her　good…bye　courteously；　but　he　seemed　wrapped　in　melancholy。
　　
　　10
　　The　Mirror
　　
　　SIMON　found　himself　in　the　grip　of　a　stubborn　anger　that　would　not　go　away。　As　he　and　Sludig　followed　the　mounted　trolls　away　down　the　mountain；　away　from　the　solemn　piles　of　stone　lying　nakedly　beneath　the　sky；　he　felt　a　rage　seeping　through　him　that　muddled　all　his　thoughts；　so　that　he　could　scarcely　think　of　anything　for　more　than　a　moment　at　a　time。
　　He　walked　stiffly；　his　body　still　bruised　and　sore；　his　stomach　churning　with　anger。　As　he　walked；　he　brooded。　Haestan　was　dead。　Another　friend　was　dead。　There　was　nothing　he　could　do　about　it。　He　couldn't　change　it。　He　couldn't　even　cry　over　it。　That　was　the　most　infuriating　thing：　he　could　do　nothing。　Nothing。
　　Sludig；　pale…faced　and　shadow…eyed；　did　not　seem　anxious　to　break　the　silence。　The　two　lowlanders　trudged　along　side　by　side　down　broad；　flat　sheets　of　weathered　granite　and　waded　through　drifts　of　snow　churned　into　a　white　froth　by　rams'　hooves。
　　The　foothills　seemed　to　be　growing　up　to　meet　them。　At　each　bend　in　the　trail　the　snowy…shouldered　hills　emerged　once　more　into　the　travelers'　view；　each　time　larger　than　before。　Sikkihoq；　in　turn；　seemed　to　be　stretching　away　into　the　sky　behind　them　as　they　steadily　descended；　ever　taller；　as　though　the　mountain　had　finished　its　business　with　these　mortals　and　now　returned　to　the　loftier　and　more　congenial　pany　of　the　sky　and　clouds。
　　I　won't　forget　you；　Simon　warned　Sikkihoq　as　he　looked　back　up　the　great　dagger　of　stone。　He　fought　the　urge　to　shout　it　aloud。　If　he　squinted；　he　thought　he　could　still　see　the　spot　where　the　cairns　stood。　I　won't　forget　that　my　friend　is　buried　on　your　slopes。　I'll　never　forget。　
　　Afternoon　passed　swiftly。　They　made　faster　time　as　the　mountain　broadened　and　the　paths　began　to　level　out；　with　longer　stretches　between　switchbacks。　Simon　noticed　signs　of　the　mountain's　life　that　he　had　not　seen　higher　up：　a　family　of　white　and　brown　rabbits　grazing　between　patches　of　snow；　jays　and　squirrels　bickering　in　the　stunted；　wind…curled　trees。　This　evidence　of　life　on　what　had　seemed　a　barren　and　heartless　rock　should　have　made　him　feel　better；　instead；　it　served　only　to　fuel　his　directionless　anger。　What　right　to　exist　did　all　these　small　and　insignificant　things　have；　when　others　were　dying？　He　wondered　why　they　should　bother；　when　any　moment　a　hawk　or　snake　or　hunter's　arrow　might　snuff　out　their　lives。　The　thought　of　life　scrabbling　pointlessly　beneath　the　shadow　of　death　filled　him　with　an　oddly　exhilarating　disgust。
　　When　evening　came；　the　pany　chose　a　gently　sloping　expanse　of　stone　and　brush　in　which　to　make　camp；　sheltered　by　Sikkihoq's　body　from　the　worst　of　the　snow…laden　wind。　Simon　shed　his　pack　and　began　picking　up　deadwood　for　the　fire；　but　stopped　to　watch　the　sun　slip　down　behind　the　mountains　to　the　west…one　of　which；　he　knew；　was　Urmsheim；　the　dragon…mountain。　The　horizon　was　streaked　with　light；　as　richly　colored　as　any　rose　grown　in　the　Hayholt's　gardens。
　　An'nai；　Jiriki's　Sithi　kinsman；　who　had　been　killed　while　fighting　for　the　lives　of　his　panions；　was　buried　there　on　Urmsheim；　the　soldier　Grimmric；　a　wiry；　quiet　man；　had　been　interred　beside　him。　Simon　remembered　Grimmric　whistling　as　they　rode　north　from　Naglimund；　a　thin　trill　of　sound　alternately　annoying　and　reassuring。　Now　he　would　be　eternally　silent。　He　and　An'nai　would　never　see　a　sunset　like　the　one　that　painted　the　sky　before　Simon；　beautiful　and　meaningless。
　　Where　were　they？　Heaven？　How　could　Sithi　go　to　heaven　when　they　didn't　believe　in　it…and　where　did　they　think　they　went　when　they　died？　They　were　pagans；　Simon　supposed；　which　meant　they　were　different…　but　An'nai　had　been　loyal　and　brave。　More　than　that；　he　had　been　kind　to　Simon；　very　kind　in　his　strange　Sithi　way。　How　could　An'nai　not　go　to　heaven？　How　could　heaven　be　such　a　stupid　place？
　　The　anger；　which　had　abated　for　a　moment；　returned。　Simon　flung　one　of　the　sticks　he　had　gathered　as　hard　as　he　could。　It　whirled　through　the　air；　then　struck　and　cartwheeled　down　the　long　stony　hill；　disappearing　at　last　into　the　underbrush　below。
　　〃e；　Simon；〃　Sludig　called　from　behind　him。　〃We　need　your　wood　for　the　fire。　Aren't　you　hungry　now？〃
　　Simon　ignored　him；　staring　out　at　the　reddening　sky　as　he　ground　his　teeth　in　frustration。　He　felt　a　hand　on　his　arm　and　angrily　shrugged　it　off。　'Please；　e；〃　the　Rimmersman　said　kindly。　〃Supper　will　be　ready　soon。〃
　　〃Where　is　Haestan？〃　Simon　asked　through　tight　lips。
　　〃What　do　you　mean？〃　Sludig　cocked　his　head。　〃You　know　where　we　left　him；　Simon。〃
　　〃No；　I　mean　where　is　Haestan？　The　real　Haestan。〃
　　〃Ah。〃　Sludig　smiled。　His　beard　had　grown　very　thick。　〃His　soul　is　in　heaven；　with　Usires　and　the　Lord　God。〃
　　〃No。〃　Simon　turned　to　look　at　the　sky　again；　darkening　now　with　the　first　mortal　blues　of　night。
　　〃What？　Why　do　you　say　that？〃
　　〃He's　not　in　heaven。　There　is　no　heaven。　How　can　there　be　a　heaven；　when　everyone　thinks　it's　different？〃
　　〃You　are　being　foolish。〃　Sludig　stared　at　him　for　a　moment；　trying　to　sense　Simon's　thought。　〃Perhaps　everyone　goes　to　their　own　heaven；〃　the　soldier　said；　then　placed　his　hand　again　on　Simon's　shoulder。　〃God　knows　what　He　knows。　e　and　sit　down。〃
　　〃How　could　God　let　people　die　for　no　reason？〃　Simon　demanded；　hugging　himself　as　though　trying　to　keep　something　inside。　〃If　God　can　do　that；　then　He　is　cruel。　If　He　isn't　cruel；　well　。　。　。　well；　then。　He　just　can't　do　anything。　Like　an　old　man　who　sits　at　the　window；　but　can't　go　out。　He's　old　and　stupid。〃
　　〃Do　not　talk　against　God　the　Father；〃　Sludig　said；　his　voice　chilly。　〃God　will　not　be　mocked　by　an　ungrateful　boy。　He　has　given　you　all　the　gifts　of　life　。。。〃
　　〃It's　a　lie！〃　Simon　shouted。　The　soldier's　eyes　widened　in　surprise。　Heads　turned　from　the　campfire；　looking　to　the　sudden　noise。　〃It's　a　lie；　a　lie！