tw.thestoneoffarewell-第90部分

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ssembly。　〃I　have　offered　your　March…thane　a　wager。　I　swear　that　the　Aedon；　god　of　the　stone…dwellers；　will　save　me…and　that　I　will　beat　Utvart。〃
　　〃That　would　be　something　to　see！〃　one　of　the　crowd　bellowed　in　heavily…accented　Westerling。　There　was　more　laughter。　Fikolmij　stood　and　moved　toward　Josua　as　if　to　silence　him；　but　after　looking　around　at　the　shouting　spectators　seemed　to　think　better　of　it。　Instead；　he　crossed　his　arms　over　his　broad　chest　and　watched　sullenly。　〃What　do　you　wager；　little　man？〃　one　of　the　clansmen　near　the　front　shouted。
　　〃All　that　remains　to　me：　my　honor　and　the　honor　of　my　people。〃　Josua　drew　Naidel　from　its　sheath　and　lifted　it　high。　His　shirt　sleeve　fell　back；　Elias'　rusted　manacle；　which　he　still　wore　around　his　left　wrist；　caught　the　faint　morning　light　like　a　band　of　blood。　〃I　am　the　son　of　Prester　John；　the　High　King　who　you　remember　well。　Fikolmij　knew　him　best　of　all　of　you。〃　The　crowd　murmured。　The　March…thane　growled　his　discontent　at　this　show。
　　〃Here　is　my　wager；〃　Josua　shouted。　〃If　I　fall　to　Utvart；　I　swear　it　will　prove　that　our　god　Usires　Aedon　is　weak；　and　that　Fikolmij　speaks　true　when　he　says　that　he　is　stronger　than　the　stone…dwellers。　You　will　know　that　your　March…thane's　Stallion　is　mightier　than　the　Dragon　and　Tree　of　John's　house；　which　is　the　greatest　house　in　all　the　city…lands　of　Osten　Ard。〃
　　A　chorus　of　shouting　voices　rose。　Josua　calmly　surveyed　the　crowd。　〃What　does　Fikolmij　wager？〃　someone　cried　at　last。　Utvart；　standing　only　a　few　ells　away；　was　glowering　at　Josua；　obviously　furious　at　how　his　thunder　had　been　stolen；　but　just　as　obviously　unsure　as　to　whether　Josua's　wager　could　somehow　increase　his　own　glory　when　he　slaughtered　this　crippled　city…dweller。
　　 〃As　many　horses　as　Vorzheva's　bride…price。　And　my　people　and　I　to　go　free　and　unhindercd；〃　Josua　said。　〃Not　much　when　matched　against　the　honor　of　a　prince　of　Erkynland。〃
　　〃A　prince　with　no　house！〃　someone　catcalled；　but　a　host　of　other　voices　drowned　out　the　heckler；　exhorting　Fikolmij　to　take　the　wager；　crying　that　he　would　be　a　fool　to　let　this　stone…dweller　show　him　up。　The　March…thane；　features　twisted　in　poorly…hidden　rage；　let　the　crowd's　urg…　ings　wash　over　him　like　rain。　He　looked　quite　ready　to　grasp　Josua's　neck　in　his　hands　and　throttle　the　prince　himself。
　　〃So。　It　is　done；〃　he　snarled　at　last；　lifting　his　arm　in　a　gesture　of　acceptance。　The　watchers　cheered。　〃By　the　Grass　Thunderer；　you　have　heard　him。　The　wager　is　set。　My　horses　against　his　empty　words。　Now；　let　this　foolishness　e　to　a　swift　end。〃　Much　of　the　March…thane's　enjoyment　seemed　to　have　evaporated。　He　leaned　forward；　speaking　low　so　that　only　Josua　could　hear。　〃When　you　are　dead；　I　will　kill　your　women　and　children　with　my　own　hands。　Slowly。　No　man　makes　me　butt　of　a　joke　before　my　clans　and　steals　my　rightful　horses。〃　Fikolmij　turned　and　stalked　back　to　his　stool；　frowning　at　the　jests　from　his　randwarders。
　　As　Josua　unbuckled　and　cast　away　his　sword　belt；　Utvart　stepped　forward；　corded　arms　gleaming　as　he　lifted　his　heavy　blade。
　　〃You　talk　and　talk　and　talk；　little　man；〃　the　grasslander　snarled。　〃You　talk　too　much。〃
　　A　moment　later　he　bounded　across　the　intervening　space　in　three　long　strides；　his　sword　swinging　in　a　great　arc。　Naidel　flashed　up；　deflecting　the　blow　with　a　dull　chime；　but　before　Josua　could　bring　his　slim　blade　up　for　a　cut　of　his　own；　Utvart　had　whirled　and　begun　another　powerful；　two…handed　sweep。　Josua　again　managed　to　sidestep　Utvart's　attack；　but　this　time　the　curved　sword　rang　hard　against　the　prince's　guard　and　Naidel　almost　flew　from　his　hand。　He　staggered　back　a　few　steps　across　the　muddy　turf　before　he　could　regain　his　balance。　Utvart　grinned　fiercely　and　began　circling；　forcing　Josua　to　turn　quickly　so　the　prince　could　keep　his　left　shoulder　facing　the　Thrithings…man。　Utvart　feinted；　then　lunged。　Josua's　boot　heel　slid　on　the　hoof…trampled　ground；　forcing　him　to　drop　to　one　knee。　He　managed　to　turn　Utvart's　thrust；　but　as　the　big　man　pulled　his　blade　free　it　sawed　back　across　Josua's　sword　arm；　freeing　a　ribbon　of　blood。
　　The　prince　rose　carefully。　Utvart　showed　his　teeth　and　continued　circling。　A　trickle　of　red　dripped　from　the　back　of　Josua's　hand。　The　prince　wiped　it　on　the　leg　of　his　breeches；　then　raised　it　again　quickly　as　Utvart　feigned　another　thrust。　Moments　later　the　blood　was　again　dribbling　down　Josua's　wnst　and　onto　his　hilt。
　　Deornoth　thought　he　understood　the　strange　business　of　the　wager…　Josua　was　hoping　to　make　Fikolmij　and　Utvart　angry　in　the　hope　it　would　lead　to　some　sort　of　mistake…but　the　prince's　idea　had　all　too　obviously　not　succeeded。　The　March…thane　was　indeed　furious；　but　Josua　was　not　battling　Fikolmy；　and　Utvart　did　not　seem　as　hot…headed　as　the　prince　had　probably　hoped。　Instead；　the　Thrithings…man　was　proving　himself　a　canny　fighter。　Rather　than　relying　blindly　on　his　superior　strength　and　reach；　he　was　wearing　Josua　down　with　heavy　blows；　then　springing　away　before　the　prince　could　counter。
　　As　he　watched　the　one…sided　bat；　Deornoth　felt　his　heart　falling　like　a　stone。　It　had　been　foolish　to　think　anything　else　could　happen。　Josua　was　a　fine　swordsman；　but　he　would　have　had　trouble　with　one　like　Utvart　at　the　best　of　times。　Today；　the　prince　was　injured　and　poorly…rested；　weak　as　a　stripling。　It　was　only　a　matter　of　time。。。
　　Deornoth　turned　to　Isorn。　The　young　Rimmersman　shook　his　head　grimly：　he；　too；　understood　that　Josua　was　fighting　a　defensive　action；　putting　off　the　inevitable　as　long　as　possible。　Isorn　lifted　his　eyebrow　inquiringly。　Now？
　　Father　Strangyeard's　murmured　prayers　were　a　counterpoint　to　the　shouting　throng。　The　guards　around　them　were　staring　raptly；　eyes　wide；　spears　held　only　loosely。　Deornoth　lifted　his　hand。　Wait。。。
　　Blood　was　rilling　from　two　more　wounds；　a　slash　on　Josua's　left　wrist　and　a　broad　gouge　in　his　leg。　The　prince　wiped　sweat　from　his　forehead　and　left　a　broad　scarlet　smear　across　his　face；　as　though　he　sought　to　match　Utvart's　painted　scars。
　　Josua　stumbled　back；　ducking　awkwardly　beneath　another　of　Utvart's　swinging　attacks；　then　censed　and　lunged　forward。　His　thrust　ended　harmlessly；　well　short　of　Utvart's　oiled　stomach。　The　Thrithings…man；　silent　to　this　point；　laughed　harshly　and　cut　again。　Josua　blocked；　then　attacked。　Utvart's　eyes　widened；　and　for　a　moment　the　paddock　echoed　with　the　percussive　sound　of　steel　on　steel。　Most　of　the　throng　were　up　and　shouting。　Slender　Naidel　and　Utvart's　long　sword　spun　in　and　out　through　an　intricate　dance　of　silver　light；　ringing　their　own　acpaniment。
　　The　Thrithings…man's　mouth　stretched　in　a　grimace　of　wild　glee；　but　Josua's　face　was　ashen；　his　bloodless　lips　pursed　and　his　gray　eyes　burning　with　some　last　reserve　of　strength。　Two　of　the　Thrithings…man's　powerful　swings　were　clangingly　rebuffed；　then　Josua's　swift　lunge　drew　a　bright　red　line　along　Utvart's　ribs。　Some　in　the　watching　crowd　shouted　and　clapped　at　this　evidence　that　the　fight　was　not　yet　over；　but　Utvart　narrowed　his　eyes　in　anger　and　surged　forward；　raining　blows　like　a　blacksmith　hammering　at　an　anvil。　Staggered；　Josua　could　only　retreat；　trying　to　keep　Naidel　up　before　him；　the　thin　strip　of　steel　his　only　shield　The　prince's　weak　attempt　at　a　counter…thrust　was　carelessly　knocked　aside；　then　one　of　Utvart's　bludgeoning　swipes　banged　off　the　prince's　guard　and　struck　his　head。　Josua　lurched　backward　for　several　loose…jointed　steps　before　slumping　to　his　knees；　blood　coursing　from　a　spot　just　above　his　ear。　He　lifted　Naidel　before　him　as　though　to　ward　off　more　blows；　but　his　eyes　were　bleary　and　the　sword　wavered　like　a　willow　limb。
　　The　noise　of　the　throng　rose　to　a　howl。　Fikolmij　was　on　his　feet；　beard　blowing　in　the　sharp　wind；　clenched　fist　in　the　air　like　an　angry　god　calling　down　the　thunder　of　the　heavens。　Utvart　approached　Josua　slowly；　still　surprisingly　cautious；　as　though　he　expected　some　stone…dweller　trick；　but　the　prince　was　clearly　beaten；　struggling　to　rise　from　his　knees；　the　stump　of　his　right　wrist　slipping　in　the　mud。
　　A　different　kind　of　noise　suddenly　arose　from　the　far　side　of　the　paddock。　The　crowd's　attention　grudgingly　turned　toward　the　source。　There　was　an　eddying　of　bodies　near　where　the　prisoners　stood；　and　spears　flailing　like　grass…stems。　A　woman's　shriek　of　amazement　was　followed　immediately　by　a　man's　cry　of　pain。　A　moment　later　a　pair　of　bodies　broke　free　from　the　press。　Deornoth　held　one　of　the　Thrithings　guards；　his　elbow　around　the　man's　throat。　The　knight's　other　hand　clasped　the　guard's　spear　just　below　the　head；　its　sharp　point　pushed　snug　against　the　man's　belly
　　〃Tell　your　other　riders　to　stand　back；　horse…lord；　or　these　men　will　die。〃　Deornoth　prodded　at　his　captive's　belly。　The　man　grunted　but　did　not　cry　out。　A　spot　of　blood　appeared　on　his　dun…colored　shirt。
　　Fikolmij　stepped　forward；　flushed　with　wrath；　his　braided　beard　quivering　on　his　jaws。　〃Are　you　mad？　Are　you　madmen？　By　The　Four…Footed；　I　will　crush　you　all！〃
　　〃Then　your　clansmen　will　die　as　well。　We　do　not　like　to　kill　in　cold　blood；　but　we　will　not　stand　by　and　see　our　prince　murdered　after　you　beat　him　until　he　could　not　fight。〃
　　The　crowd　murmured　unhappily；　but　Fikolmy；　seething　with　rage；　paid　no　attention。　He　raised　his　braceleted　arm　to　call　for　his　warriors；　but　a　voice　lanced　out。
　　〃No'〃　It　was　Josua；　climbing　totteringly　to　his　feet。　〃Let　them　go；　Deornoth。〃
　　The　knight　stared　in　amazement　〃But；　Highness。。。〃　
　　〃Let　them　go。〃　He　paused　to　find　breath。　〃I　will　fight　my　own　battle。　If　you　love　me；　release　them。〃　Josua　rubbed　blood　from　his　eyes；　blinking。
　　 Deornoth　turned　to　Isorn　and　Sangfugol；　who　held　spears　on　three　more　guards。　They　returned　his　astonished　stare。　〃Release　them；〃　he　said　at　last。　〃The　prince　bids　us　release　them。〃
　　Isorn　and　Sangfugol　lowered　their　spears；　allowing　the　Thrithings…men　to　step　away。　They　promptly　did；　scrambling　out　of　reach　of　the　spear　points　before　they　remembered　their　original　roles　as　captors　and　stopped；　muttering　angrily。　Isorn　ignored　them。　Beside　him；　the　harper　was　trembling　like　a　wounded　bird。　Geloe；　who　had　not　moved　through　all　the　furor；　shifted　her　yellow　eyes　back　to