tw.togreenangeltower2-第123部分

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　was　forced　to　strike　her　senseless　and　carry　her　out…but　he　had；　in　fact；　told　her　the　truth。　Why　hadn't　he　simply　run　and　saved　himself；　leaving　her　to　make　her　own　way？
　　　　　　　She　turned　to　look　at　him。　The　monk　had　still　not　caught　his　breath；　he　lay　curled　against　the　wall；　his　face　blank　as　a　wax　doll's。
　　　　　　　〃So　long　have　I　wondered　who　could　be　such　a　messenger；〃　Binabik　continued。　〃Many　are　the　messengers　who　have　e　to　Josua；　and　also　to　Simon　and　Dinivan；　the　two　who　somehow　had　these　warnings。　Which　messenger　was　meant？〃
　　　　　　　〃And　now　you　think　you　know？〃
Binabik　started　to　answer；　then　took　a　breath。　〃Let　me　tell　you　what　I　am　thinking。　Perhaps　you　will　be　finding　some　flaw…you　too；　Cadrach。　I　have　hope　only　that　I　am　wrong。〃　He　knitted　the　fingers　of　his　small　hands　together　and　frowned。　〃The　dwarrow…folk　say　the　Great　Swords　were　all　having　their　forging　with　the　help　of　Words　of　Making…words　that　the　dwarrows　say　are　used　for　pushing　back　the　rules　of　the　world。〃
〃I　didn't　understand　that。〃
　　　　　　　〃I　will　try　for　explaining；〃　Binabik　said　unhappily。　〃But　truly　we　are　having　little　time　to　talk。〃
　　　　　　　〃When　I've　caught　my　breath；　you　can　talk　while　we're　climbing。〃
　　　　　　　The　troll　nodded。　〃Then　here　is　my　explaining　about　the　world's　rules。　One　is　that　things　want　to　fall　downward。〃　He　put　the　stopper　on　the　water　skin　and　then　dropped　it；　illustrating　his　point。　〃If　some　other　kind　of　falling　is　wanted…to　make　this　fall　upward；　that　might　be…that　is　one　thing　that　the　Art　is　being　used　for。　To　make　something　that　is　going　against　the　world's　rules。〃
　　　　　　　Miriamele　nodded。　Beside　her；　Cadrach　had　raised　his　head　as　though　listening；　but　he　still　stared　out　at　the　opposite　wall。
　　　　　　　〃But　if　some　rule　must　be　broken　for　a　long　time；　then　the　Art　used　must　have　great　powerfulness；　just　as　lifting　a　heavy　thing　once　and　then　dropping　it　is　easier　than　the　holding　of　it　in　the　air　for　hours。　For　such　tasks；　the　dwarrows　and　others　who　were　practicing　the　Art　used　。。。〃
〃。。。　The　Words　of　Making；〃　Miriamele　finished　for　him。　〃And　they　used　them　when　the　Great　Swords　were　forged。〃
　　　　　　　Binabik　bobbed　his　head。　〃They　did　that　because　all　the　Great　Swords　were　forged　of　things　that　had　no　place　in　Osten　Ard；　things　which　were　resisting　the　Arts　used　for　creating　a　magical　weapon。　This　needed　overing；　but　not　just　for　a　moment。　Forever　was　the　time　that　these　resisting　forces　must　be　subdued；　so　the　most　powerful　Words　of　Making　were　being　used。〃　He　spoke　slowly　now。　〃So　those　blades；　it　is　my　thinking；　are　like　the　pulled…back　arm　of　the　giant　sling…stones　your　people　use　to　attack　walled　cities…balanced　so　that　one　touch　sends　a　vast　rock　flying　like　a　tiny；　tiny　bird。　Such　great　power　is　being　restrained　in　each　one　of　those　swords…who　knows　what　the　power　of　three　brought　together　may　be　doing？〃
　　　　　　　〃But　that's　good；〃　said　Miriamele；　confused。　〃Isn't　that　what　we　need…the　strength　to　overe　the　Storm　King？〃　She　looked　at　Binabik's　sorrowful　face　and　her　heart　grew　heavy。　〃Is　there　some　reason　we　can't　use　it？〃
　　　　　　　Cadrach　shifted　against　the　wall；　turning　his　gaze　at　last　on　the　troll。　A　gleam　of　interest　had　kindled　in　his　eyes。　〃But　who　will　use　it？〃　the　monk　asked。　〃That　is　the　question；　is　it　not？〃
Binabik　nodded　unhappily。　〃That　is　indeed　what　I　am　fearing。〃　He　turned　to　the　princess。　〃Miriamele；　why　is　Thorn　being　brought　here？　Why　are　Josua　and　others　searching　for　Bright…Nail？〃
〃To　use　against　the　Storm　King；〃　Miriamele　replied。　She　still　did　not　see　where　the　troll's　questions　were　leading；　but　Cadrach　evidently　did。　A　grim　half…smile；　as　of　reluctant　admiration；　curled　the　monk's　lips。　She　wondered　who　the　admiration　was　for。
　　　　　　　〃But　why？〃　asked　the　troll。　〃What　was　telling　us　to　use　them　against　our　enemy？　This　is　not　something　for　tricking　you；　Miriamele…it　is　what　I　myself　have　been　worrying　until　my　head　feels　full　of　sharp　stones。〃
　　　　　　　〃Because　。。。〃　For　a　moment；　she　could　not　remember。　〃Because　of　the　rhyme。　The　rhyme　that　told　how　to　drive　the　Storm　King　away。〃
　　　　　　　〃　When　frost　doth　grow　on　Claves'　bell　。。。〃　Binabik　recited；　his　voice　ringing　strangely　in　the　stairwell。　His　face　twisted　in　what　looked　like　pain。

〃And　Shadows　walk　upon　the　road
When　water　blackens　in　the　Well
Three　Swords　must　e　again

〃When　Bukken　from　the　Earth　do　creep
And　Hunen　from　the　heights　descend
When　Nightmare　throttles　peaceful　Sleep
Three　Swords　must　e　again

〃To　turn　the　stride　of　treading　Fate
To　clear　the　fogging　Mists　of　Time
If　Early　shall　resist　Too　Late
Three　Swords　must　e　again　。。。〃

　　　　　　　〃I've　heard　it　a　hundred　times！〃　she　snapped。　Anger　only　thinly　covered　her　fear　at　the　little　man's　strange　expression。　〃What　are　you　saying？〃
Binabik　lifted　his　hands。　〃Listen；　listen　to　what　it　is　telling；　Miriamele。　All　the　first　parts　are　true　things　…　diggers；　giants；　the　great　bell　in　Nabban…but　at　the　end　it　only　speaks　of　turning　Fate；　of　clearing　Time　。。。　and　of　Early　fighting　against　Late。〃
　　　　　　　〃So？〃
〃What；　then；　is　to　say　that　it　speaks　to　us！？〃　hissed　Binabik。
　　　　　　　She　was　so　astonished　by　the　troll's　agitation　that　it　took　several　moments　before　his　words　sank　in。　〃Do　you　mean　to　say。。。　？〃
　　　　　　　〃That　it　could　just　as　easily　be　speaking　of　what　will　be　helping　the　Storm　King　himself！　For　what　are　we　mortals　being　to　him　if　not　the　Lateness　to　his　Earliness？　Who　is　turning　this　Fate？　And　whose　fate　is　it　being？〃
　　　　　　　〃But　。。。　but　。。。〃
Binabik　spoke　on　in　a　fury；　as　though　the　words　had　been　unbottled　after　a　long　fermentation　and　now　foamed　free。　〃Where　did　the　idea　to　look　for　this　rhyming　e　to　us？　From　the　dreams　of　Simon　and　Jarnauga　and　others！　The　Dream　Road　has　been　long　promised…Jiriki　and　the　other　Sithi　have　told　that　to　us…but　we　were　frightened　enough　to　believe　those　dreams；　desperate　to　have　some　way　for　fighting　the　returning　Storm　King！〃　He　paused　a　moment；　panting。　〃I　am　sorry；　but　I　have　so　much　angriness　at　my　own　stupidity。。。　'　We　took　a　twig　of　great　slenderness　and　hung　a　bridge　upon　it　without　thinking　more。　Now　we　are　over　the　middle　of　the　chasm。〃　He　slapped　his　palms　against　his　thighs。　〃Scrollbearers；　we　are　now　called。　Kikkasut！〃
　　　　　　　〃So。。。〃　She　struggled　to　understand　the　ins　and　outs　of　what　the　troll　had　said；　a　throb　of　despair　had　begun　beating　inside　her。　〃So　the　dreams　about　Nisses'　book…　those　were　the　false　messengers？　The　ones　that　led　us　to　this　rhyme？〃
　　　　　　　〃That　is　what　I　am　now　thinking。〃
〃But　that　doesn't　make　sense！　Why　would　the　Storm　King　play　such　a　strange　trick？　If　we　cannot　defeat　him；　why　lead　us　to　believe　we　could？〃
Binabik　took　a　breath。　〃Perhaps　he　has　need　of　the　swords；　but　cannot　bring　them　himself。　Pryrates　was　telling　Cadrach　that　he　knew　where　Bright…Nail　was　and　did　not　wish　it　touched。　Perhaps　the　red　priest　was　having　no　plans　of　his　own；　and　was　doing　only　the　Storm　King's　bidding。　I　am　thinking　the　dark　one　in　the　north　needs　the　great　power　that　is　in　those　blades。〃　His　voice　broke。　〃It　。。。　it　is　my　great　fear　that　all　this　has　been　a　plicated　game；　like　the　Sithi's　shent；　created　for　making　us　bring　the　remaining　swords。〃
　　　　　　　Miriamele　sat　back　against　the　wall；　stunned。　〃Then　Josua；　Simon　。。。　all　of　us　。。。〃
　　　　　　　〃Have　been　doing　the　enemy's　bidding　all　along；〃　said　Cadrach　abruptly。　Miriamele　expected　to　hear　satisfaction　in　his　words；　but　there　was　none；　only　hollowness。　〃We　have　been　his　servants。　The　enemy　has　already　won。〃　
　　　　　　　〃Shut　your　mouth；〃　she　spat。　〃Damn　you！　If　you　had　told　us　what　you　knew；　we　would　likely　have　discovered　this　already。〃　She　turned　to　Binabik；　struggling　to　keep　her　wits。　〃If　you're　right；　is　there　anything　we　can　do？〃　
　　　　　　　The　troll　shrugged。　〃Try　to　be　escaping；　then　find　our　way　back　to　Josua　and　the　others　for　warning　them。〃
　　　　　　　Miriamele　stood。　A　few　moments　earlier　she　had　been　rested　and　ready　to　climb　again。　Now　she　felt　as　though　an　ox…yoke　had　been　laid　across　her　shoulders；　a　ponderous；　painful　weight　that　could　not　be　shrugged　off。　There　seemed　little　doubt　that　all　was　indeed　lost。　〃And　even　if　we　find　them；　now　we　will　have　no　weapons　to　use　against　the　Storm　King。〃
　　　　　　　Binabik　did　not　reply。　The　diminutive　troll　seemed　to　have　shrunk　even　smaller。　He　rose　and　began　clambering　up　the　stairs　again。　Miriamele　turned　her　back　on　Cadrach　and　followed　him。

　　　　　　　Order　had　been　overthrown；　screaming；　grinding　chaos　raged　before　the　Hayholt's　walls。　Pale　Norns　and　shaggy；　barking　giants　were　everywhere；　fighting　with　no　discernible　regard　for　their　own　lives；　as　though　their　only　purpose　was　to　strike　horror　into　the　hearts　of　their　enemies。　One　of　the　giants　had　lost　most　of　an　arm　to　a　warrior's　ax…blow；　but　as　it　pushed　through　panicked　human　soldiers　the　huge　beast　swung　the　fountaining　stub　as　vigorously　as　it　did　the　club　in　its　remaining　hand；　both　bining　to　fill　the　surrounding　air　with　a　mist　of　red。　Other　giants　were　yet　unwounded；　and　they　quickly　piled　terrible　carnage　around　themselves。　The　Norns；　almost　as　fierce　but　far　more　canny；　gathered　themselves　into　small　rings　and　stood　shoulder　to　shoulder；　their　needle…sharp　pikes　facing　outward。　The　swiftness　and　battle　mastery　of　the　white…skinned　immortals　was　such　that　they　seemed　to　fell　two　or　three　humans　for　each　one　of　their　own　number　that　fell　。。。　and　as　they　fought；　they　sang。　Their　eerie；　strident　voices　echoed　even　above　the　clamor　of　bat。
And　over　all　hung　the　Conqueror　Star；　glowing　a　sickly　red。
Duke　Isgrimnur　raised　Kvalnir　in　the　air　and　shouted　for　Sludig；　for　Hotvig；　but　his　voice　was　swallowed　by　the　din。　He　turned　his　horse　in　circles；　trying　to　find　some　area　where　the　forces　were　concentrated；　but　already　his　army　was　scattered　in　a　thousand　separate　pieces。　Although　he　had　been　fighting　vigorously　for　some　time；　Isgrimnur　still　could　not　quite　believe　what　was　happening。　They　were　under　attack　by　creatures　out　of　old　stories。　The　battlefield；　grim　but　familiar　less　than　an　hour
before；　had　now　bee　a　nightmare　of　otherworldly　punishment。
　　　　　　　Josua's　standard　had　been　thrown　down；　Isgrimnur　searched　in　vain　for　something　he　could　use　to　give　his　forces　a　rallying　point。　A　giant　fell　to　the　snow；　thrashing　as　it　died　w