tw.thestoneoffarewell-第54部分

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　　As　Binabik　relayed　his　words；　Sisqi　stared　at　Simon；　her　eyes　intent　and　serious。　When　the　troll　had　finished；　Sisqi　bowed　her　head　toward　them；　stiff　and　prideful。　Simon　and　Sludig　did　the　same。　The　other　Qanuc　pressed　forward；　touching　those　who　were　about　to　leave　as　though　to　send　something　with　them。　Simon　found　himself　surrounded　by　small；　black…haired　heads；　and　again　had　to　remind　himself　that　the　trolls　were　not　children；　but　mortal　men　and　women　who　loved　and　fought　and　died　just　as　bravely　and　seriously　as　any　knight　of　Erkynland。　Callused　fingers　squeezed　his　hand　and　many　things　that　sounded　kind　were　said　to　him　in　words　he　could　not　understand。
　　Sisqi　and　Binabik　had　wandered　off　from　the　others；　back　toward　the　sleeping　cave。　When　they　got　there；　Sisqi　ducked　m；　emerging　a　moment　later　with　a　long　spear　in　her　hands；　its　shaft　busy　with　carvings。
　　〃Here；〃　she　said。　〃You　will　need　this　where　you　are　going；　beloved；　and　it　will　be　longer　than　nine　times　nine　days　before　you　return。　Take　it。　I　know　we　will　be　together　once　more…if　the　gods　are　kind。〃
　　〃Even　if　they　are　not。〃　Binabik　tried　to　smile；　but　could　not。　He　took　the　spear　from　her　and　rested　it　against　the　facing　of　the　cave。　〃When　we　meet　again；　may　it　be　granted　that　it　is　beneath　no　shadow。　I　will　hold　you　in　my　heart；　Sisqi。〃
　　〃Hold　me　against　you　now；〃　she　said　quietly；　and　they　stepped　forward　into　each　other's　arms。　〃Blue　Mud　Lake　is　cold　this　year。〃
　　〃I　will　be　back　。。。〃　Binabik　began。
　　〃No　more　talk。　Our　time　is　short。〃
　　Their　faces　came　together；　vanishing　as　their　hoods　touched　each　other；　and　they　stood　that　way　for　a　long　time。　They　were　both　trembling。
　　
　　
　　PART　TWO
　　
　　Storm's　Hand
　　
　　11
　　Bones　of　the　Earth
　　
　　IT　was　often　said　that　of　all　the　lands　of　men　in　Osten　Ard；　secrets　ran　deepest　in　Hernystir。　Not　that　the　land　itself　was　hidden；　like　the　fabled　Trollfells　lurking　beyond　the　icy　fence　of　the　White　Waste；　or　the　land　of　the　Wrannamen；　shrouded　in　treacherous　swamps。　The　secrets　Hernystir　kept　were　hidden　in　the　hearts　of　its　people；　or　below　its　sunny　meadows；　deep　in　the　earth。
　　Of　all　mortal　men；　the　Hernystiri　once　had　known　and　loved　the　Sithi　best。　They　learned　much　from　them…although　the　things　they　had　learned　were　now　mentioned　only　in　old　ballads。　They　had　also　traded　with　the　Sithi；　bringing　back　to　their　own　grassy　country　articles　of　workmanship　beyond　anything　the　finest　smiths　and　craftsmen　of　Imperial　Nabban　could　produce。　In　return；　the　Hernystirmen　offered　their　immortal　allies　the　fruits　of　the　earth…nightblack　malachite；　ilenite　and　bright　opal；　sapphire；　cinnabar；　and　soft；　shiny　gold…all　painstakingly　mined　from　the　thousand　tunnels　of　the　Grianspog　Mountains。
　　The　Sithi　were　gone　now；　vanished　absolutely　from　the　earth　as　far　as　most　men　knew　or　cared。　Some　of　the　Hernystiri　knew　better。　It　had　been　centuries　since　the　Fair　Ones　had　fled　their　castle　Asu'a；　deserting　the　last　of　the　Nine　Cities　accessible　to　mortal　man。　Most　mortals　had　forgotten　the　Sithi　entirely；　or　saw　them　only　through　the　distorting　veil　of　old　stories。　But　among　the　Hernystiri；　an　open…hearted　and　yet　secretive　folk；　there　were　still　a　few　who　looked　at　the　dark　holes　that　pitted　the　Grianspog　and　remembered。
　　
　　
　　Eolair　was　not　particularly　fond　of　caves。　His　childhood　had　been　spent　upon　the　grasslands　in　the　meadows　of　western　Hernystir；　at　the　conjoining　of　the　Inniscrich　and　the　Cuimnhe　rivers。　As　Count　of　Nad　Mullach；　he　had　ruled　over　that　territory；　later；　in　service　to　his　king；　Lluth　ubh…Llythmn；　he　had　traveled　to　all　the　great　cities　and　courts　of　Osten　Ard；　carrying　out　Hernystir's　wishes　beneath　the　lights　of　countless　lamps　and　the　skies　of　every　nation。
　　Thus；　although　his　bravery　was　questioned　by　no　one；　and　though　his　oath　to　King　Lluth　meant　he　would　follow　Lluth's　daughter　Maegwin　to　the　fires　of　perdition　if　that　were　his　duty；　he　was　not　altogether　pleased　to　find　himself　and　his　people　living　deep　in　the　rock　of　the　mighty　Grianspog。　
　　〃Bagba　bite　me！〃　Eolair　cursed。　A　drop　of　burning　pitch　had　fallen　on　his　sleeve；　scorching　his　arm　through　the　thin　cloth　in　the　time　it　took　him　to　put　it　out。　The　torch　was　guttering　and　would　not　last　much　longer。　He　considered　lighting　the　second；　but　that　would　mean　it　was　time　to　turn　back；　he　was　not　ready　to　do　that。　He　briefly　weighed　the　risks　of　finding　himself　stuck　without　light　in　an　unfamiliar　tunnel　deep　in　the　bowels　of　the　earth；　then　cursed　again；　quietly。　If　he　had　not　been　such　a　hasty　idiot；　he　might　have　remembered　to　bring　his　flints　with　him。　Eolair　did　not　like　making　that　sort　of　mistake。　Too　many　errors　of　such　an　obvious　sort　and　one's　luck　would　at　last　run　out。
　　His　sleeve　extinguished；　he　turned　his　attention　back　to　the　forking　of　the　tunnel；　squinting　at　the　floor　in　the　vain　hope　of　seeing　something　that　would　help　him　decide　which　way　to　go。　Seeing　nothing；　he　hissed　in　exasperation。
　　〃Maegwin！〃　he　called；　and　heard　his　voice　go　rolling　out　into　darkness；　echoing　down　the　tunnels。　〃My　lady；　are　you　there？〃
　　The　echoes　died。　Eolair　stood　in　silence　with　a　dying　torch　and　wondered　what　to　do。
　　It　was　painfully　evident　that　Maegwin　knew　her　way　about　this　underground　maze　far　better　than　he　did；　so　perhaps　his　concern　was　misplaced。　Surely　there　were　no　bears　or　other　animals　dwelling　this　far　in　the　depths；　or　they　would　have　made　themselves　apparent　by　now。　The　tattered　remainder　of　Hernysadharc's　citizens　had　already　spent　a　fortnight　in　the　mountain　deeps；　building　a　new　home　for　an　unhomed　people　among　the　bones　of　the　earth。　But　there　were　other　things　to　fear　down　here　beside　wild　beasts；　Eolair　could　not　so　lightly　dismiss　danger。　Strange　creatures　walked　in　the　heights　of　the　mountains；　and　there　had　been　mysterious　deaths　and　disappearances　all　across　the　face　of　the　land　long　before　Skali　of　Kaldskryke's　army　came　at　King　Elias'　bidding　to　put　down　the　rebellious　Hernystirmen。
　　Other；　more　prosaic　dangers　might　await　as　well：　Maegwin　could　fall　and　break　a　leg；　or　tumble　into　an　underground　river　or　lake。　Or　she　might　overestimate　her　own　knowledge　of　the　caverns　and　wander　lost　and　lightless　until　she　died　from　starvation。
　　There　was　nothing　to　do　but　go　on。　He　would　walk　a　short　way　farther；　but　turn　to　go　back　before　his　torch　was　half…consumed。　That　way；　by　the　time　darkness　overcame　him　he　should　be　within　hailing　distance　of　the　caverns　that　now　housed　the　greatest　remnant　of　the　Hernystiri　nation…in…exile。
　　Eolair　lit　his　second　torch　with　the　smoldering　remains　of　the　first；　then　used　the　smoking　butt　of　the　expired　brand　to　mark　the　wall　at　the　forking　of　the　tunnels　with　the　signature　runes　of　Nad　Mullach。　After　a　moment's　consideration　he　chose　the　wider　of　the　two　ways　and　started　forward。
　　This　tunnel；　like　the　one　he　had　just　left；　had　once　been　part　of　the　mines　that　crisscrossed　the　Grianspog。　At　this　depth　within　the　mountains　it　knifed　through　solid　rock。　A　moment's　thought　brought　home　the　unimaginable　labor　that　must　have　gone　into　its　making。　The　cross…　timbers　that　braced　it　up　were　broad　as　the　trunks　of　the　greatest　trees！　Eolair　could　not　help　admiring　the　careful　but　heroic　work　of　the　vanished　workmen…his　and　Maegwin's　ancestors…who　had　burrowed　their　way　through　the　very　stuff　of　the　world　to　bring　beautiful　things　back　to　the　light。
　　The　old　tunnel　slanted　downward。　The　bobbing　torch　shone　on　strange；　dim　marks　scratched　into　the　walls。　These　tunnels　were　long…deserted；　but　still　there　seemed　an　expectant　air　to　them；　as　though　they　waited　for　some　imminent　return。　The　sound　of　Eolair's　boots　on　the　stone　seemed　loud　as　a　god's　heartbeat；　so　that　the　Count　of　Nad　Mullach　could　not　help　but　think　of　Black　Cuamh；　the　master　of　deep　places。　The　earth…god　suddenly　seemed　very　real　and　very　near；　here　in　a　darkness　the　sun　had　never　touched　since　Time's　beginning。
　　Slowing　to　look　more　closely　at　the　shallow　carvings；　Eolair　suddenly　realized　that　many　of　the　curious　shapes　scratched　on　the　walls　were　crude　pictures　of　hounds。　He　nodded　as　understanding　came。　Old　Criobhan　had　once　told　him　that　the　miners　of　elder　days　called　Black　Cuamh　〃Earthdog；〃　and　left　him　offerings　in　the　farthest　tunnels　so　that　he　would　grant　his　protection　against　falling　rocks　or　bad　air。　These　carvings　were　pictures　of　Cuamh　surrounded　by　the　runes　of　miner's　names；　tokens　that　begged　the　god's　favor。　Other　offerings　implored　the　help　of　Cuamh's　servants；　the　deep…delving　dwarrows；　supernatural　beings　presumed　to　grant　favors　and　wealthy　ore…veins　to　lucky　miners。
　　Eolair　took　the　snuffed　torch　and　made　his　initials　again　beneath　a　round…eyed　hound。
　　Master　Cuamh；　he　thought；　if　you　still　watch　these　tunnels；　bring　Maegwin　and　our　people　through　to　safety。　We　are　sorely；　sorely　pressed。
　　Maegwin。　Now　there　was　a　distressing　thought。　Had　she　no　feeling　for　her　responsibilities？　Her　father　and　brother　were　dead。　The　late　king's　wife　Inahwen　was　little　older　than　Maegwin　herself　and　far　less　capable。　Lluth's　heritage　was　in　the　princess'　hands…and　what　was　she　doing　with　it？
　　Eolair　had　not　objected　so　much　to　the　idea　of　moving　deeper　into　the　　caverns：　summer　had　brought　no　respite　from　the　cold　or　from　Skali's　armies；　and　the　slopes　of　the　Grianspog　Mountains　were　not　the　kind　of　place　to　last　out　a　siege　of　either　sort。　The　Hernystiri　who　had　survived　the　war　were　scattered　throughout　the　farthest　wildernesses　of　Hernystir　and　the　Frostmarch；　but　a　large　and　important　part　was　here　with　the　shreds　of　the　king's　household。　This　was　indeed　where　the　kingdom　would　endure　or　fail：　it　was　time　to　make　it　a　more　permanent　and　defensible　home。
　　What　had　worried　Eolair；　though；　was　Maegwin's　wild　fascination　with　the　depths　of　the　earth；　with　moving　ever　deeper　into　the　mountain's　heart。　For　days　now；　long　after　the　shifting　of　the　camps　was　finished；　Maegwin　had　been　wandering　away　on　unspecified　errands；　disappearing　into　remote　and　unexplored　caverns　for　hours　at　a　stretch；　returning　at　sleeping…time　with　her　face　and　hands　dirty　and　her　eyes　full　of　a　preoccupation　that　looked　much　like　madness。　Ol