tw.thestoneoffarewell-第75部分

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de　his　immense　pleasure　at　disfiting　the　church　hierarchy。
　　Absently　pushing　breadcrumbs　with　his　knife；　Dinivan　marveled　at　how　inseparably　the　great　and　the　mundane　were　linked。　This　ultimatum　from　King　Elias　and　the　lector's　response　might　one　day　seem　an　event　of　unforgettable　magnitude；　like　that　day　long　ago　when　the　third　Larexes　had　declared　Lord　Sulis　heretic　and　apostate；　sending　that　magnificent　and　troubled　man　into　exile。　But　even　during　that　momentous　event；　Dinivan　reflected；　there　had　probably　been　priests　who　scratched　their　noses；　or　stared　at　the　ceiling；　or　silently　bemoaned　their　aching　joints　as　they　sat　within　the　very　crucible　of　history…even　as　Dinivan　now　poked　at　his　own　supper…leavings　and　Duke　Benigaris　belched　and　loosened　his　belt。　So　men　always　would　be；　ape　and　angel　mixed；　their　animal　nature　chafing　at　the　restraints　of　civilization　even　as　they　reached　for　Heaven　or　for　Hell。　It　was　amusing；　really　。。。　or　should　have　been。
　　As　Escritor　Velligis　tried　to　initiate　a　more　soothing　supper…table　conversation；　Dinivan　suddenly　felt　an　odd　trembling　in　his　fingers：　the　table　was　shuddering　gently　beneath　his　hands。　Earthquake　was　his　first　thought；　but　then　the　olive　pits　in　his　bowl　began　to　slide　together　slowly；　forming　themselves　into　runes　before　his　astonished　eyes。　He　looked　up；　startled；　but　no　one　else　at　the　banquet　table　appeared　to　notice　anything　amiss。　Velligis　droned　on；　his　chubby　face　gleaming　with　sweat；　the　other　guests　watched　him；　politely　feigning　interest。
　　Creeping　like　insects；　the　leavings　in　Dinivan's　bowl　had　merged　to　form　two　sneering　words：　〃SCROLL　PIG。〃　Sickened；　he　looked　up　to　meet　Pryrates'　shark…black　eyes。　The　alchemist　wore　a　look　of　vast　amusement。　One　of　his　white　fingers　was　waving　above　the　tablecloth；　as　if　sketching　upon　the　insubstantial　air。　Then；　as　Dinivan　watched；　Pryrates　waggled　all　his　digits　at　once。　The　crumbs　and　olive　stones　in　Dinivan's　bowl　abruptly　tumbled　apart；　whatever　forces　that　had　bound　them　now　dispersed。
　　Dinivan's　hand　rose　defensively　to　grasp　the　chain　that　lay　beneath　his　cassock；　feeling　for　the　hidden　scroll；　Pryrates'　grin　widened　in　almost　childish　glee。　Dinivan　found　his　usual　optimism　melting　before　the　red　priest's　unmistakable　confidence。　He　suddenly　realized　what　a　thin　and　breakable　reed　his　own　life　actually　was。
　　〃。。。They　are　not；　I　suppose；　truly　dangerous；〃　Velligis　was　blathering；　〃but　it　is　a　dreadful　blow　to　the　dignity　of　Mother　Church；　these　barbarians　settling　themselves　afire　in　public　squares；　a　dreadful　blow…as　much　as　daring　the　church　to　stop　them！　It　is　a　kind　of　contagious　madness；　I　am　told；　carried　by　bad　airs。　I　no　longer　go　out　without　a　kerchief　to　wear　over　my　nose　and　mouth　。。。〃
　　〃But　perhaps　the　Fire　Dancers　are　not　mad；〃　Pryrates　said　lightly。　〃Perhaps　their　dreams　are　more。。。　real。。。　than　you　would　like　to　believe。〃
　　〃That　is　。。。　that　is。。。〃　Velligis　spluttered；　but　Pryrates　ignored　him；　his　obscenely　empty　eyes　still　fixed　on　Dinivan。
　　He　fears　no　excess　now；　Dinivan　thought。　The　realization　seemed　an　unbearable　burden。　Nothing　binds　him　any　longer。　His　terrible　curiosity　has　bee　a　heedless　and　insatiable　hunger。
　　Had　that　been　when　the　world　had　begun　to　go　wrong？　When　Dinivan　and　his　fellow　Scrollbearers　had　brought　Pryrates　into　their　secret　councils？　They　had　opened　their　hearts　and　treasured　archives　to　the　young　priest；　respecting　the　honed　sharpness　of　Pryrates'　mind　for　a　long　time　before　the　rot　at　the　center　of　him　could　no　longer　be　mistaken。　They　had　driven　him　from　their　midst；　then…but　too　late；　it　seemed。　Far；　far　too　late。　Like　Dinivan；　the　priest　sat　at　the　tables　of　the　mighty；　but　Pryrates'　red　star　was　now　ascending；　while　Dinivan's　track　seemed　murky　and　obscured。
　　Was　there　anything　more　he　could　do？　He　had　sent　messages　to　the　two　Scrollbearers　still　living；　Jarnauga　and　Ookequk's　apprentice；　though　he　had　heard　from　neither　in　some　time。　He　had　also　sent　suggestions　or　instructions　to　others　of　good　faith；　like　the　forest…woman　Geloe　and　little　Tiamak　in　the　marshy　Wran。　He　had　brought　Princess　Miriamele　safely　to　the　Sancellan　Aedonitis　and　made　her　tell　her　story　to　the　lector。　He　had　tended　all　the　trees　as　Morgenes　would　have　wished：　all　he　could　do　now　was　wait　and　see　what　fruit　might　e。。。
　　Slipping　Pryrates'　troubling　gaze；　Dinivan　looked　around　the　lector's　dining　hall；　crying　to　take　note　of　details。　If　this　was　to　be　a　momentous　night；　for　good　or　ill；　he　might　as　well　try　to　remember　all　he　could。　Perhaps　in　some　future…a　brighter　one　than　he　could　now　envision…he　would　be　an　old　man　standing　at　the　shoulder　of　some　young　artisan；　offering　corrections：　〃No；　it　wasn't　like　that　at　all！　I　was　there。。。〃　He　smiled；　forgetting　his　worries　for　a　moment。　What　a　happy　thought…to　survive　the　cares　of　these　dark　days；　to　live　with　no　greater　responsibility　than　being　an　annoyance　to　some　poor　artist　laboring　to　plete　a　mission！
　　His　moment　of　reverie　ended　abruptly；　arrested　by　the　sight　of　a　familiar　face　in　the　arched　doorway　that　led　to　the　kitchens。　What　was　Cadrach　doing　here？　He　had　been　in　the　Sancellan　Aedonitis　scarcely　a　week　and　would　have　no　business　that　could　bring　him　near　the　lector's　private　quarters；　so　he　could　only　be　spying　on　the　lector's　supper　guests。　Was　it　only　curiosity；　or　was　Cadrach。。。　Padreic。。。　feeling　the　tug　of　old　loyalties？　Of　conflicting　loyalties？
　　Even　as　these　thoughts　flashed　through　Dinivan's　head；　the　monk's　face　fell　back　into　the　shadows　of　the　door　and　was　gone　from　sight。　A　moment　later　a　server　marched　through　with　a　wide　salver；　making　it　obvious　that　Cadrach　had　vanished　from　the　archway　entirely。
　　Now；　as　if　in　counterpoint　to　Dinivan's　confusion；　the　lector　rose　suddenly　from　his　tall　chair　at　the　head　of　the　table。　Ranessin's　kind　face　was　somber；　the　shadows　thrown　by　the　bright　candlelight　made　him　seem　ancient　and　bowed　with　troubles。
　　He　silenced　prattling　Velligis　with　a　single　wave　of　his　hand。　〃We　have　thought；〃　the　lector　said　slowly。　His　white…haired　head　seemed　remote　as　a　snow…capped　mountain。　〃The　world　as　you　speak　of　it；　Pryrates；　makes　a　certain　kind　of　sense。　There　is　weight　to　its　logic。　We　have　heard　similar　things　from　Duke　Benigaris　and　his　frequent　envoy；　Count　Aspitis　〃
　　〃Earl　Aspitis；〃　Benigaris　said　abruptly；　his　heavy　face　flushed。　He　had　drunk　a　great　deal　of　the　lector's　wine。　〃Earl；〃　he　continued　heedlessly。　〃King　Elias　made　him　an　earl　at　my　request。　As　a　gesture　of　his　friendship　to　Nabban。〃
　　Ranessin's　slender　features　curled　in　a　poorly…concealed　look　of　disgust。　〃We　know　you　and　the　High　King　are　close；　Benigaris。　And　we　know　that　you　yourself　rule　Nabban。　But　you　are　at　our　table　now；　in　God's　house…my　table…and　we　bid　you　to　remain　silent　until　Mother　Church's　highest　priest　finishes　speaking。〃
　　Dinivan　was　shocked　by　the　lector's　angry　tone…Ranessin　was　ordinarily　the　mildest　of　men…but　found　himself　heartened　by　such　unexpected　strength。　Benigaris'　mustache　quivered　angrily；　but　he　reached　for　his　wine…cup　with　the　clumsiness　of　an　embarrassed　child。
　　Ranessin's　blue　eyes　were　now　fixed　on　Pryrates。　He　continued　in　the　stately　manner　he　so　seldom　used；　but　which　seemed　so　natural　when　he　did。　〃As　we　said；　the　world　which　you　and　Elias　and　Benigaris　preach　makes　a　certain　kind　of　sense。　It　is　a　world　where　alchemists　and　monarchs　decide　the　fate　not　only　of　men's　corporeal　forms；　but　of　their　souls　as　well；　and　where　the　king's　minions　encourage　deluded　souls　to　burn　themselves　for　the　glory　of　false　idols　if　it　suits　their　purposes。　A　world　where　the　uncertainty　of　an　invisible　God　is　replaced　by　the　certainty　of　a　black；　burning　spirit　who　dwells　on　this　earth；　in　the　heart　of　a　mountain　of　ice。〃
　　Pryrates'　hairless　brows　shot　up　at　this；　Dinivan　felt　a　moment　of　cold　joy。　Good。　So　the　creature　could　still　be　surprised
　　〃Hear　me！〃　Ranessin's　voice　gained　force；　so　that　for　a　moment　it　seemed　that　not　only　the　room　had　fallen　silent；　but　the　whole　world　with　it；　as　though　in　that　instant　the　candlelit　table　rode　the　very　cusp　of　Creation。　〃This　world…your　world；　the　world　you　preach　to　us　with　your　sly　words…is　not　the　world　of　Mother　Church。　We　have　long　known　of　a　dark　angel　who　strides　the　earth；　whose　bleak　hand　reaches　out　to　trouble　all　the　hearts　of　Osten　Ard…but　our　scourge　is　the　Arch…fiend　himself；　the　implacable　foe　of　God's　light。　Whether　your　ally　is　truly　our　Enemy　of　countless　millennia　or　just　another　vicious　minion　of　darkness；　Mother　Church　has　always　stood　against　his　like。。。　and　always　shall。〃
　　Everyone　in　the　room　seemed　to　hold　their　breath　for　an　endless　moment。
　　〃You　do　not　know　what　you　say；　old　man。〃　Pryrates'　voice　was　a　sulfurous　hiss。　〃You　grow　feeble　and　your　mind　wanders。。。〃
　　Shockingly；　not　one　of　the　escritors　raised　their　voices　in　protest　or　dissent。　They　stared；　wide…eyed；　as　Ranessin　leaned　across　the　table　and　calmly　engaged　the　priest's　angry　stare。　Light　seemed　to　quail　and　almost　die　throughout　the　banquet　hall；　leaving　only　the　two　illuminated；　one　scarlet；　one　white；　their　shadows　stretching；　stretching。。。
　　〃Lies；　hatred；　and　greed；〃　the　lector　said　softly。　〃They　are　familiar；　age…old　enemies。　It　matters　not　beneath　whose　banner　they　march。〃　He　stood　up；　a　slim；　pale　shape；　and　lifted　a　hand。　Dinivan　felt　again　the　fierce；　uncontrollable　love　that　had　driven　him　to　bend　his　back　in　supplication　before　the　mystery　of　Man's　divine　purpose；　to　bind　his　life　over　into　the　service　of　this　humble　and　wonderful　man；　and　to　the　church　that　lived　in　his　person。
　　With　cold　deliberation；　Ranessin　drew　the　sign　of　the　Tree　m　the　air　before　him。　The　table　seemed　to　shudder　again　beneath　Dinivan's　hand；　this　time　he　could　not　believe　it　the　alchemist's　doing。　'〃You　have　opened　doors　that　should　have　remained　closed　for　all　time；　Pryrates；〃　the　lector　proclaimed。　〃In　your　pride　and　folly；　you　and　the　High　King　have　brought　a　ponderous　evil　into　a　world　which　already　groaned　beneath　a　mighty　burden　of　suffering。　Our　church…my　church…will　fight　you　for　every　soul；　until　the　very　Day　of　Weighing…Out　dawns。　I　declare　you　exmunicate；　and　King　Elias　with　you；　and　also　b