tw.thestoneoffarewell-第89部分

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itch　cast　some　spell　on　you？　That　would　be　dishonorable。〃
　　Joshua　shrugged　again　to　show　how　little　he　cared　about　Fikolmij's　ideas　of　honor；　but　Geloe　stepped　forward。　〃There　have　been　no　charms；　no　spells。〃
　　Fikolmij　eyed　her　distrustfully　for　a　moment；　then　turned　back　to　Josua。　〃Very　well。　My　men　will　bring　you　when　you　are　ready。　I　am　glad　to　see　you　up。　It　will　make　for　a　better　fight。〃　The　March…thane　strutted　out　of　the　paddock；　followed　closely　by　three　of　his　guard。
　　Deornoth；　who　had　watched　the　whole　exchange；　cursed　quietly。　He　knew　what　effort　it　had　taken　his　prince　to　act　so　unconcerned。　He　and　Isorn　had　helped　Josua　climb　to　his　feet　in　the　hour　just　before　first　light。　Even　after　the　healing　draught　Geloe　had　given　him…an　unmagical　concoction　to　bolster　Josua's　strength；　Geloe　had　bitterly　regretted　the　lack　of　a　sprig　of　mockfoil　to　make　it　truly　efficacious…the　prince　had　still　found　it　difficult　to　dress　himself。　The　beating　Fikolmij　had　given　him　had　taken　a　terrible　toll　on　his　undernourished　frame。　Deornoth　secretly　doubted　that　Josua　would　even　be　able　to　stand　after　swinging　a　blade　for　a　short　while。
　　Father　Strangyeard　approached　the　prince。　〃Your　Highness；　is　there　truly　no　other　way？　1　know　the　Thrithings…men　are　barbaric；　but　God　despises　none　of　His　creations。　He　has　put　the　spark　of　mercy　in　every　breast。　Perhaps　。。。〃
　　〃It　is　not　the　Thrithings…men　who　wish　this；〃　Josua　told　the　one…eyed　priest　kindly；　〃it　is　Fikolmij。　He　bears　an　old　hatred　for　me　and　my　house；　one　that　even　he　will　not　fully　admit。〃
　　 〃But　I　thought　the　Stallion　Clan　fought　for　your　father　in　the　Thrithings　War；〃　Isorn　said。　〃Why　should　he　hate　you？〃
　　〃Because　it　was　with　my　father's　help　that　he　became　war…thane　of　the　High　Thrithings。　He　cannot　forgive　the　fact　that　it　was　the　stone…dwellers；　as　he　calls　us；　who　gave　him　the　power　his　own　people　would　not。　Then　his　daughter　ran　from　him　and　I　took　her　with　me；　losing　him　a　brideprice　of　horses。　To　our　friend　the　March…thane；　that　is　a　terrible　dishonor。　No；　there　are　no　words；　priestly　or　otherwise；　that　will　make　Fikolmij　forget。〃
　　Josua　took　a　last　look　at　Naidel's　keen　blade；　then　slid　it　back　into　its　sheath。　He　gazed　around　at　his　assembled　people。　〃Heads　high；〃　he　said。　The　prince　seemed　strangely　clear…eyed　and　cheerful。　〃Death　is　no　enemy。　God　has　prepared　a　place　for　us　all；　I　am　sure。〃　He　walked　to　the　gate　in　the　fence。　Fikolmij's　guards　opened　it；　then　formed　a　spear…bristling　escort　as　Josua　walked　across　the　wagon…city。
　　A　swift；　cool　breeze　was　blowing　across　the　grasslands；　an　invisible　hand　that　ruffled　the　meadows　and　thrummed　in　the　tentlines。　The　low　hills　were　dotted　with　grazing　cattle。　Scores　of　grimy　children　who　had　been　dodging　in　and　out　among　the　wagons　left　their　games　to　follow　Josua　and　his　makeshift　court　as　they　trudged　toward　the　March…thane's　paddock。
　　Deornoth　looked　at　the　faces　of　children　and　their　parents　as　they　came　to　join　the　swelling　procession。　Where　he　expected　to　see　hatred　or　bloodlust；　he　found　only　eager　expectancy…the　same　eagerness　he　had　seen　as　a　child　on　his　brothers'　and　sisters'　faces　when　the　High　King's　Guard　or　a　painted　peddler's　wagon　had　passed　their　Hewenshire　freeholding。　These　people　hoped　only　for　some　excitement。　It　was　unfortunate　that　it　would　take　somebody's　death；　most　likely　that　of　his　beloved　prince；　to　provide　it。
　　Golden　ribbons　flapped　on　the　fenceposts　of　Fikolmij's　enclosure；　as　if　this　were　a　festival　day。　The　March…thane　sat　on　a　stool　before　his　wagon　door。　Several　more　bejeweled　Thrithings…men…other　clan　leaders；　Deornoth　guessed…were　seated　on　the　ground　beside　him。　Several　women　of　various　ages　stood　nearby；　and　one　of　them　was　Vorzheva。　The　March…thane's　daughter　no　longer　wore　the　rags　of　her　court　dress。　She　had　been　dressed　in　a　more　traditional　clan　costume；　a　hooded　wool　dress　with　a　heavy　belt　studded　with　colorful　stones　and　a　band　across　her　forehead　that　tied　at　the　back　other　hood。　Unlike　the　other　women；　whose　bands　were　of　dark　hues；　Vorzheva　wore　a　white　ribbon…no　doubt　indicating；　Deornoth　reflected　sourly；　a　bride　for　sale。
　　As　Josua　and　his　followers　stepped　through　the　gate；　the　prince　and　Vorzheva　caught　each　others'　eyes。　Josua　deliberately　made　the　sign　of　the　Tree　on　his　chest；　then　kissed　his　hand　and　touched　it　to　that　spot。　Vorzheva　turned　away　as　if　to　hide　tears。
　　Fikolmij　stood　and　began　to　speak　to　the　assembled　crowd；　slipping　back　and　forth　between　Westcrling　and　the　harsh　Thrithings　dialect　as　he　held　forth　to　the　seated　dignitaries　and　the　other　clanfolk　gathered　around　the　paddock　fences。　As　the　March…thane　roared　on；　Deornoth　slipped　forward　between　the　half…dozen　spearmen　who　had　followed　Josua　into　the　enclosure　and　moved　to　his　prince's　side。
　　〃Highness；〃　he　said　quietly；　laying　a　hand　on　his　shoulder。　The　prince　started；　as　if　woken　from　a　dream。
　　〃Ah…　It's　you。〃
　　〃I　wanted　to　beg　your　forgiveness；　my　prince；　before。。。　before　whatever　happens。　You　are　the　kindest　lord　a　man　could　want。　I　had　no　right　to　speak　to　you　as　I　did　yesterday。〃
　　Josua　smiled　sadly。　〃You　had　every　right。　I　only　wish　I　had　more　time　to　think　about　the　things　you　said。　I　have　indeed　been　far　too　self…absorbed　of　late。　It　was　the　act　of　a　friend　to　point　that　out。〃
　　Deornoth　fell　to　a　knee；　pulling　Josua's　hand　to　his　lips。　〃The　Lord　bless　you；　Josua；〃　he　said　quickly。　〃Bless　you。　And　do　not　close　too　swiftly　with　that　brute。〃
　　The　prince　thoughtfully　watched　Deornoth　rise。　〃I　may　have　to。　I　fear　I　have　not　the　strength　to　wait　long。　If　I　see　any　chance　at　all；　I　must　take　it。〃
　　Deornoth　tried　to　speak　again；　but　his　throat　was　too　tight。　He　clasped　Josua's　hand；　then　retreated。
　　A　ragged　volley　of　shouts　and　cheers　rose　from　the　crowd　as　Utvart　climbed　over　the　paddock　fence　and　took　his　place　before　Fikolmij。　Josua's　adversary　stripped　off　his　cowhide　vest　and　displayed　his　muscular　torso；　which　had　been　rubbed　with　fat　until　it　glistened。　Seeing　this；　Deornoth　frowned：　Utvart　would　be　able　to　move　quickly；　and　the　fat　would　help　him　keep　warm。
　　The　Thrithing…man's　curved　sword　had　been　thrust　scabbardless　through　his　broad　belt；　his　long　hair　pulled　into　a　knot　at　the　back　of　his　head。　Utvart　wore　a　bracelet　on　each　arm；　and　several　earrings　dangled　against　his　jaw。　He　had　daubed　his　scars　with　red　and　black　paint；　making　himself　seem　a　kind　of　demon。
　　Now　he　pulled　his　sword　from　his　belt　and　lifted　it　over　his　head；　engendering　another　chorus　of　shouts。　〃e；　Lackhand；〃　he　boomed。　〃Utvart　is　waiting。〃
　　Father　Strangyeard　was　praying　aloud　as　Josua　walked　forward　across　the　enclosure。　Deornoth　found　that　rather　than　soothing　or　reassuring　him；　the　priest's　words　rubbed　on　his　nerves　until　he　had　to　step　away；　after　a　moment　s　consideration；　he　moved　to　a　spot　along　the　fence　just　to　the　side　of　one　of　the　guards。　He　looked　up　and　saw　Isorn　staring。　Deornoth　shifted　his　chin　in　a　virtually　undetectible　nod；　Isorn　eased　over　toward　the　wall　also；　until　he　stood　a　few　yards　from　Deornoth。
　　Josua　had　left　his　cloak　with　Duchess　Gutrun；　who　cradled　it　like　a　child。　Beside　her　stood　Leieth；　dirty　fist　clutching　the　duchess'　tattered　skirt。　Geloe　was　a　short　distance　away；　her　yellow　stare　hooded。
　　As　Deornoth　surveyed　the　group；　other　eyes　met　his　and　slid　away；　as　if　fearing　to　maintain　too　lengthy　a　contact。　Sangfugol　quietly　began　to　sing。
　　 〃So；　son　of　Prester　John；　you　e　before　the　Free　Folk　of　the　Thrithings　a　little　less　great　than　you　once　were；〃　Fikolmij　grinned。　His　clansmen　laughed　and　whispered。
　　〃Only　in　my　possessions；〃　Josua　said　calmly。　〃As　a　matter　of　fact；　I　would　like　to　propose　a　wager；　Fikolmij…between　the　two　of　us；　you　and　me。〃
　　The　March…thane　laughed；　surprised。　〃Brave　words；　Josua；　proud　words　ing　from　a　man　who　knows　he　will　soon　die。〃　Fikolmij　looked　him　over　calculatingly。　〃What　kind　of　wager？〃
　　The　prince　slapped　his　scabbard。　〃I　propose　to　bet　on　this　and　my　good　left　hand。〃
　　〃Good；　since　it　is　your　only　hand；〃　Fikolmij　smirked。　His　clansmen　roared。
　　〃That　is　as　may　be。　If　Utvart　defeats　me；　he　gets　Vorzheva　and　you　get　her　bride…price；　is　that　not　true？〃
　　〃Thirteen　horses。〃　The　March…thane　was　smug。　〃What　of　it？〃　〃Simply　this。　Vorzheva　is　already　mine。　We　are　betrothed。　If　I　survive；　I　gain　nothing　new。〃　His　eyes　met　Vorzheva's　across　the　crowd　of　watch…　ers；　then　moved　back　to　her　father　with　cold　regard。
　　〃You　gain　your　life！〃　Fikolmij　spluttered。　〃In　any　case；　it　is　foolish　to　talk。　You　will　not　survive。〃
　　Utvart；　waiting　impatiently；　allowed　himself　a　thin　smile　at　his　thane's　words。
　　〃That　is　why　I　wish　to　make　a　wager　with　you；〃　Josua　said。　〃With　you。　Fikolmij。　Between　men。〃　Some　of　the　clansmen　chuckled　at　this；　Fikolmij　looked　around　angrily　until　they　fell　silent。
　　〃Speak　on。〃
　　〃It　will　be　a　wager　of　little　value；　Fikolmij；　the　kind　that　bold…willed　men　make　without　hesitation　in　the　cities　of　my　people。　If　I　win；　you　will　give　me　the　same　price　you　are　asking　from　Utvart。〃　Josua　smiled。　〃I　will　choose　thirteen　horses　from　you。〃
　　There　was　an　undertone　of　anger　in　Fikolmij's　hoarse　voice。　〃Why　should　I　wager　with　you　at　all？　A　wager　is　only　a　wager　if　both　sides　risk　something。　What　could　you　possibly　have　that　I　want？〃　His　expression　turned　cunning。　〃And　what　do　you　have　that　I　cannot　simply　take　from　your　people　when　you　are　dead？〃
　　〃Honor。〃
　　Fikolmij　drew　back　in　surprise。　The　whispers　around　him　intensified。　〃By　the　Four…Footed；　what　does　that　mean？！　I　care　little　for　your　soft…hearted；　stone…dweller's　honor。〃
　　〃Ah；〃　Josua　said　with　a　ghost　of　a　smile；　〃but　your　own？〃　
　　The　prince　turned　suddenly　to　face　the　crowd　of　Thrithings…folk　who　hung　over　the　fences　of　Fikolmij's　great　paddock。　A　ripple　of　quiet　talk　ran　through　the　throng。　〃Free　men　and　women　of　the　High　Thrithings！〃　he　cried。　〃You　have　e　to　see　me　killed。〃　A　bray　of　laughter　greeted　this　statement。　A　clod　of　dirt　hurtled　toward　Josua；　missing　him　by　only　a　few　cubits　and　rolling　past　Fikolmij's　clansmen；　who　glared　out　at　the　assembly。　〃I　have　offered　your　March…thane　a　wager。　I　swear　that　the　Aedon；　god　of　the　stone…dwellers