tw.thestoneoffarewell-第59部分

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　　There　was　no　time　to　think；　no　time　at　all。　His　dinner；　his　fishing　hook；　his　line；　all　would　be　lost　if　he　waited　a　moment　longer。　Tiamak　felt　a　black　rage　flare　into　life　in　his　empty　stomach　and　a　band　of　pain　tighten　itself　around　his　temples。　His　mother；　had　she　lived　to　see　him　at　this　moment；　would　hardly　have　recognized　her　shy；　clumsy　son。　If　she　had　seen　what　he　did　next；　she　would　have　stumbled　to　the　shrine　of　She　Who　Birthed　Mankind　at　the　back　wall　of　the　family　hut；　then　fainted　dead　away。
　　Tiamak　looped　the　cord　tied　to　his　knife…hilt　around　his　wrist；　then　flung　himself　over　the　stern　of　the　boat。　Mumbling　inarticulately　with　anger　and　despair；　he　barely　sucked　in　a　hasty　breath　and　closed　his　mouth　before　the　green；　cloudy　water　closed　over　his　head。
　　Flailing；　he　opened　his　eyes。　The　sunlight　filtered　down　through　the　watercourse；　passing　through　plumes　of　drifting　silt　as　through　clouds。　He　darted　a　glance　up　at　the　rectangular　darkness　that　was　the　bottom　of　his　boat　and　saw　a　glittering　shape　hanging　there。　Despite　his　wild；　heart…thumping　panic；　he　felt　a　moment　of　satisfaction　at　the　size　of　the　fish　lying　torpid　at　the　end　of　his　line。　Even　his　father　Tugumak　would　have　had　to　admit　it　was　a　splendid　catch！
　　As　he　stroked　upward；　reaching　toward　his　prize；　the　shimmering　thing　darted　along　the　boat…bottom　and　slipped　out　of　sight　along　the　craft's　far　side；　rising　up　out　of　Tiamak's　view。　The　line　pulled　taut　against　the　wooden　hull。　The　Wrannaman　snatched　at　it　wildly；　but　it　now　hugged　the　boat　so　tightly　that　his　fingers　could　find　no　purchase。　He　gave　a　little　cough　of　dread；　sending　bubbles　dancing　outward。　Hurry；　he　must　hurry！　The　crocodile　would　be　upon　him　in　a　moment！
　　His　heartbeat　boomed　in　the　watery　silence　of　his　ears。　His　scrabbling　fingers　could　not　grip　the　line。　The　fish　remained　out　of　sight　and　out　of　reach；　as　if　perversely　determined　that　it　should　not　suffer　alone；　and　panic　was　making　Tiamak　clumsy。　He　finally　gave　up　and　pushed　himself　away　from　the　bottom　of　the　boat；　kicking　to　bring　himself　upright。　The　fish　was　lost。　He　had　to　save　himself。
　　Too　late！
　　A　dark　shape　slid　past　him　and　angled　upward；　slipping　in　and　out　of　the　shadow　of　his　boat。　The　crocodile　was　not　the　largest　he　had　ever　seen；　but　it　was　certainly　the　largest　he　had　ever　been　beneath。　Its　white　belly　passed　over　him；　the　tail　a　diminishing　stripe　buffeting　him　with　its　wake。
　　His　breath　was　pressing　on　his　lungs；　burning　to　escape　and　fill　the　murky　water　with　bubbles。　He　kicked　and　turned；　his　eyes　feeling　as　though　they　would　push　from　his　head；　and　saw　the　blunt　arrow…shape　of　the　crocodile　skimming　toward　him。　Its　jaws　parted。　There　was　a　glimpse　of　red…shadowed　darkness　and　an　infinity　of　teeth。　He　whirled；　swinging　his　arm；　and　watched　the　horrifyingly　slow　movement　of　the　knife　as　he　pushed　it　against　the　wall　of　water。　The　reptile　thumped　against　his　ribs；　rasping　him　with　its　horny　hide　as　he　struggled　out　of　its　way。　His　knife　bit　shallowly　into　its　flank；　dragging　along　the　armored　skin　for　a　moment　before　bouncing　off。　A　thin　brown…black　cloud　trailed　the　crocodile　as　it　swam　on；　circling　the　boat　once　more。
　　Tiamak's　lungs　felt　as　though　they　had　grown　impossibly　large　within　his　chest；　straining　at　his　ribs　until　spots　of　blackness　began　to　appear　before　his　eyes。　Why　had　he　been　such　a　fool？　He　didn't　want　to　die　like　this；　drowned　and　eaten！
　　Even　as　he　tried　to　struggle　upward　toward　the　surface；　he　felt　a　crushing　pressure　enfold　his　leg；　in　the　next　instant；　he　was　jerked　down…　ward。　His　knife　spilled　loose　from　his　hand；　and　his　arms　and　free　leg　kicked　wildly　as　he　was　pulled　toward　the　darkness　of　the　river　bottom。　A　belch　of　bubbles　escaped　his　lips。　The　faces　of　the　elders　of　his　tribe；　Mogahib　and　Roahog　the　Potter　and　others；　seemed　to　press　down　on　his　dimming　sight；　their　expressions　full　of　weary　disgust　at　his　idiocy。
　　His　knife…cord　still　looped　his　wrist；　as　he　whirled　down　into　river…　darkness　he　struggled　to　find　the　hilt。　His　hands　coiled　against　it　and　he　summoned　his　strength；　then　leaned　forward　against　the　bottomward　pull；　finding　the　hard；　rough　jaws　that　clutched　his　leg。　Clinging　with　one　hand　so　that　he　could　feel　the　crooked　teeth　beneath　his　fingers；　he　set　the　knifepoint　against　the　leathery　eyelid　and　pushed。　The　head　jerked　beneath　his　hands　as　the　crocodile　convulsed　and　bit　down　harder；　which　sent　a　bolt　of　scalding　pain　up　his　leg　and　into　his　heart。　Another　clutch　of　precious　bubbles　sprang　from　Tiamak's　mouth。　He　pushed　the　blade　in　as　hard　as　he　could；　his　thoughts　a　swirling　black　blur　of　faces　and　nonsensi…　cal　words。　As　he　twisted　at　the　handle　in　mad　agony；　the　crocodile　loosened　its　jaws。　He　pulled　at　its　upper　jaw　with　desperate　strength；　forcing　it　up　just　far　enough　to　jerk　his　leg　free　before　it　snapped　shut　again。　The　water　was　clouding　with　blood。　Tiamak　could　feel　nothing　beneath　his　knee　at　all；　nothing　above　it　but　the　fiery　pain　of　his　bursting　lungs。　Somewhere　below　him　the　crocodile　was　tying　itself　in　dark　knots　on　the　river　bottom；　swimming　in　ever…narrowing　circles。　Tiamak　tried　to　claw　upward　toward　the　remembered　sun；　even　as　he　felt　the　spark　within　him　dying。
　　He　passed　through　many　darknesses；　ing　at　last　into　the　light。　The　daystar　was　in　the　gray　sky；　the　cattails　stood　windless　and　silent　along　the　edge　of　the　water。　He　gasped　in　a　lifetime's　worth　of　hot　marsh　air；　opening　his　entire　body　to　it；　then　almost　sank　beneath　the　water　again　as　it　rushed　into　his　lungs　like　a　river　shattering　its　dam　and　spilling　down　into　a　parched　valley。　Light　of　every　hue　gleamed　before　his　eyes；　until　he　felt　as　though　he　had　discovered　some　ultimate　secret。　A　moment　later；　as　he　saw　his　boat　bobbing　on　the　unsettled　water　a　short　distance　away；　the　sense　of　revelation　evaporated。　He　felt　a　sick；　debilitating　blackness　again　e　crawling　up　his　spine　into　his　skull。　He　struggled　toward　the　boat；　his　body　curiously　painless；　as　though　he　were　nothing　but　a　head　floating　upon　the　watercourse。　He　reached　the　side　of　the　flatboat　and　clung；　breathing　deeply　as　he　summoned　his　strength。　By　sheer　will　he　pulled　himself　over　into　safety；　scraping　his　cheek　raw　on　the　thwart；　not　caring　in　the　least。　The　blackness　overcame　him　at　last。　He　stopped　struggling　and　sank　beneath　its　surface。
　　He　awakened　to　a　sky　red　as　blood。　A　hot　wind　swept　across　the　marshland。　The　blazing　sky　seemed　inside　his　head　as　well；　for　he　burned　like　a　fired　pot　fresh　from　the　kiln。　With　fingers　that　felt　awkward　as　pieces　of　wood；　he　scrabbled　his　spare　breechclout　from　the　bottom　of　the　boat　and　tied　it　tightly　around　the　red　ruin　of　his　lower　leg；　unable　to　think　much　about　the　bleeding　runnels　that　had　been　gouged　from　knee　to　heel。　Struggling　against　the　oblivion　that　was　reaching　out　for　him；　he　wondered　absently　if　he　would　be　able　to　walk　again；　then　dragged　himself　to　the　edge　of　the　boat　and　pulled　at　the　fishing　line　which　still　hung　over　the　side；　trailing　into　green　depths。　With　his　failing　strength　he　managed　to　wrestle　the　silver　fish　over　the　stern；　letting　it　slide　wriggling　down　next　to　him　in　the　boat's　shallow　belly。　The　fish's　eye　was　open；　its　mouth；　too；　as　though　it　were　trying　to　ask　Death　a　question。
　　 He　rolled　onto　his　back；　staring　up　into　the　violet　sky。　There　was　a　resounding　crack　and　rumble　from　above。　A　flurry　of　raindrops　danced　on　his　fevered　skin。　Tiamak　smiled　as　he　once　more　fell　away　into　darkness。
　　
　　
　　Isgrimnur　got　up　from　the　bench　and　strode　to　the　fireplace；　turning　to　present　his　rump　to　the　blaze。　He　would　be　off　to　bed　in　a　short　while；　so　he　might　as　well　soak　up　all　the　warmth　he　could　before　he　had　to　return　to　that　be…damned；　arse…freezing　cell。
　　He　listened　to　the　muted　sounds　of　conversation　that　filled　the　mon　room；　marveling　at　the　diversity　of　accents　and　languages。　The　Sancellan　Aedonitis　was　like　a　little　world　of　its　own；　even　more　so　than　the　Hayholt；　but　varied　as　the　talk　had　been　all　evening；　he　was　not　an　inch　closer　to　solving　any　of　his　problems。
　　The　duke　had　paced　the　near…endless　halls　all　morning　and　afternoon；　keeping　an　eye　open　for　a　suspicious　pair　of　monks　or　anything　else　that　might　ease　his　predicament。　His　search　had　been　fruitless；　except　to　remind　him　of　the　size　and　power　of　Mother　Church。　He　had　bee　so　frustrated　by　his　inability　to　discover　whether　Miriamele　was　here　or　not　that　as　the　afternoon　waned　he　had　left　the　Sancellan　Aedonitis　entirely。
　　He　took　his　supper　in　an　inn　partway　down　the　Sancellane　Hill；　then　walked　quietly　in　the　Hall　of　Fountains；　something　he　had　not　done　for　many　years。　He　and　Gutrun　had　visited　the　fountains　shortly　before　their　marriage；　when　they　had　e　to　Nabban　on　a　nuptial　pilgrimage　traditional　in　Isgrimnur's　family。　The　glistening　play　of　water　and　its　continual　music　had　filled　him　with　a　kind　of　pleasant　melancholy；　although　his　longing　and　worry　for　his　wife　were　great；　for　the　first　time　in　weeks　he　had　been　able　to　think　of　her　without　being　overwhelmed　by　pain。　She　must　be　safe…and　Isorn；　too。　He　would　just　believe　it；　for　what　else　could　　he　do？　The　rest　of　the　family；　his　other　son　and　two　daughters；　were　in　the　capable　hands　of　old　Thane　Tonnrud　in　Skoggey。　Sometimes；　when　all　was　uncertain；　a　man　just　had　to　trust　in　the　goodness　of　God。
　　After　his　walk；　Isgrimnur　had　returned　to　the　Sancellan；　his　mind　calmed　and　ready　to　turn　to　his　task　once　more。　His　panions　from　the　morning　meal　had　e　in　for　a　while　but　had　left　early；　old　Septes　explaining　that　they　kept　〃country　hours。〃　The　duke　had　sat　and　listened　long　to　the　talk　of　others；　but　to　no　avail。
　　Much　of　the　gossip；　although　couched　in　careful　terms；　seemed　to　be　about　whether　Lector　Ranessin　would　legitimize　Benigaris'　succession　to　Nabban's　ducal　seat。　Not　that　anything　Lector　Ranessin　might　say　would　actually　lift　Benigaris'　hind　end　from　the　throne；　but　the　Benidrivine　House　and　Mother　Church　had　long　ago　reached　a　delicate　balance　concerning　Nabban's　governance。　There　was　much　worry　that　the　lector　would　do　something　rash；　like　denounce　Benigaris　on　the　basis　of　the　rumors　that　the　new　duke　had　betrayed　his　father；　or　ha