tw.togreenangeltower2-第23部分

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　　　　　　　Jiriki　said　nothing；　but　reached　down　with　surprising　gentleness　and　turned　over　the　nearest　of　the　bodies；　tugging　a　little　to　pull　it　free　of　the　partner　with　which　it　was　entwined。　He　folded　back　the　hood。
　　　　　　　〃Brynioch！〃　Eolair　choked。　〃Brynioch　of　the　Skies　preserve　us！〃
　　　　　　　The　face　had　no　eyes；　only　black　holes。　The　skin　was　waxy；　and　in　places　had　burst　from　the　force　of　the　fall；　but　it　was　clear　that　this　corpse　was　not　fresh。
　　　　　　　〃Whoever　he　was；　he　has　been　dead　since　Naglimund's　defeat；〃　Jiriki　said　softly。　〃I　do　not　think　there　are　any　living　prisoners　within　the　walls。〃
　　　　　　　Count　Eolair　felt　his　gorge　rising　and　turned　away。　〃But　they。。。　moved。。。　！〃
　　　　　　　〃One　of　the　Red　Hand　is　lord　here；〃　Jiriki　said。　〃That　is　now　confirmed；　for　no　others　have　the　strength　to　do　this。　Their　power　is　a　part　of　their　master's。〃
　　　　　　　〃But　why？〃　Eolair　said。　He　looked　at　the　humped　corpses；　then　turned　his　gaze　outward；　toward　the　massing　of　men　and　Sithi　in　the　snow。　〃Why　would　they　do　this？〃
　　　　　　　Jiriki　shook　his　head；　his　own　hair　as　white　and　fluttering　as　that　of　the　creature　that　had　mocked　them　from　the　wall。　〃I　cannot　say。　But　Naglimund　will　not　fall　without　a　full　tithing　of　horrors；　that　is　certain。〃
Eolair　looked　at　Maegwin　and　Isorn　waiting　fearfully　for　him　to　return。　〃And　there　is　no　turning　back。〃
　　　　　　　〃No。　I　fear　the　final　days　have　begun；〃　said　Jiriki。　〃For　good　or　ill。〃

　　　　　　　Duke　Isgrimnur　knew　that　he　should　be　paying　close　attention　to　everything　that　was　going　on　around　him；　to　the　people　of　Metessa；　to　the　arrangements　and　manpower　in　the　baronial　hall。　Metessa　was　the　easternmost　of　Nabban's　major　outer　states；　and　might　be　the　place　where　Josua's　challenge　stood　or　fell。　Success　here　could　hinge　on　the　smallest　detail；　so　Isgrimnur　had　plenty　to　occupy　him…but　it　was　difficult　to　attend　to　his　duties　while　the　little　boy　followed　him　around　like　a　shadow。
　　　　　　　〃Here；〃　the　duke　said　after　he　had　almost　trod　upon　the　child　for　the　dozenth　time；　〃what　are　you　up　to？　Don't　you　have　somewhere　to　be？　Where's　your　mother？〃
　　　　　　　The　pale…haired；　thin…faced　little　boy　looked　up　at　him；　showing　no　fear　of　the　large；　bearded　stranger。　〃My　mother　told　me　to　stay　away　from　the　prince　and　you　other　knights。　I　did　not　agree。〃
The　child　was　unnervingly　well…spoken　for　his　years；　the　duke　reflected；　and　his　Westerling　was　almost　as　good　as　Isgrimnur's　own。　It　was　odd　to　see　how　Prester　John's　Warinsten　language　had　spread　so　thoroughly　in　only　a　couple　of　generations。　But　if　things　fell　apart；　as　they　seemed　to　be　doing；　would　not　the　mon　tongue；　like　everything　else；　soon　slip　away？　Empires　were　like　seawalls；　he　thought　sadly；　even　those　which　embodied　the　best　of　hopes。　The　tide　of　chaos　beat　at　them　and　beat　at　them；　and　as　soon　as　no　one　was　shoring　up　the　stones　any　more。。。
　　　　　　　Isgrimnur　shook　his　head；　then　growled　at　the　youngling　a　little　more　sternly　than　he　intended。　〃Well；　if　your　mother　told　you　to　stay　away　from　the　knights；　what　are　you　doing　here？　This　is　men's　business　tonight。〃
　　　　　　　The　boy　deliberately　raised　himself　until　the　top　of　his　head　reached　the　duke's　bottom　rib。　〃I　will　be　a　man　some　day。　I　am　tired　of　living　with　the　women。　My　mother　is　afraid　I　will　run　away　to　fight　in　war；　but　that　is　just　what　I　will　do。〃
　　　　　　　There　was　something　so　unintentionally　ic　in　his　fierce　determination　that　Isgrimnur　smiled　despite　himself。　〃What's　your　name；　lad？〃
　　　　　　　〃Pasevalles；　Sir　Foreign　Knight。　My　father　is　Brindalles；　Baron　Seriddan's　brother。〃
　　　　　　　〃A　knight　is　not　the　only　thing　in　the　world　to　be。　And　war　is　not　a　game。　It　is　a　terrible　thing；　little　Pasevalles。〃
　　　　　　　〃I　know　that；〃　said　the　boy　readily。　〃But　sometimes　there　is　no　choice；　my　father　says；　and　there　must　be　men　who　will　fight。〃
　　　　　　　The　duke　thought　of　Princess　Miriamele　in　the　ghant　nest；　and　of　his　own　beloved　wife　standing　with　an　ax　before　Elvritshalla；　ready　to　defend　it　to　her　death　before　Isorn　persuaded　her　at　last　to　let　it　go　and　flee　with　the　rest　of　the　family。　〃Women　also　fight。〃
　　　　　　　〃But　women　cannot　be　knights。　And　I　am　going　to　be　a　knight。〃
　　　　　　　〃Well；　I　suppose　since　I　am　not　your　father；　I　cannot　send　you　back　to　your　chambers。　And　I　certainly　can't　seem　to　be　rid　of　you。　You　might　as　well　e　with　me　and　tell　me　a　little　about　the　place。〃
　　　　　　　Pleased；　Pasevalles　bounced　up　and　down　a　few　times　like　a　puppy。　Then；　just　as　suddenly；　he　stopped　and　fixed　Isgrimnur　with　a　suspicious　glance。　〃Are　you　an　enemy？〃　he　asked　sharply。　〃Because　if　you　are；　Sir　Foreign　Knight；　I　cannot　show　you　things　that　might　hurt　my　uncle。〃
　　　　　　　Isgrimnur's　grin　was　sour。　〃In　these　days；　young　fellow；　it's　hard　to　say　who　is　enemy　to　who。　But　I　can　promise　you　that　my　liege…lord　Prince　Josua　intends　no　harm　to　any　who　live　in　Metessa。〃
　　　　　　　Pasevalles　considered　this　for　a　moment。　〃I　will　trust　you；〃　he　said　at　last。　〃I　think　you　tell　the　truth。　But　if　you　do　not；　then　you　are　no　knight；　who　would　lie　to　a　young　child。〃
　　　　　　　Isgrimnur's　grin　widened。　Young　child！　This　nuumtkin　could　give　Count　Eolair　lessons　in　politicking。　'Tell　me　nothing　that　would　help　your　uncle's　enemies；　and　I　will　try　not　to　ask　anything　that　would　put　your　honor　in　danger。〃
　　　　　　　〃That　is　fair；〃　said　the　boy　gravely。　〃That　is　knightly。〃

　　　　　　　Metessa　was　more　than　just　another　Nabbanai　hedge…barony。　Situated　beside　the　outermost　edges　of　the　Thrithings；　it　was　a　wide　and　prosperous　piece　of　country；　hilly　and　wide…meadowed。　Even　after　the　unseasonal　snows；　the　rolling　terrain　gleamed　greenly。　One　of　the　Stefflod's　branches　wound　through　the　grasslands；　a　ribbon　of　silver　foil　bright　even　beneath　the　dull　gray　skies。　Sheep　and　a　few　cows　dotted　the　hillsides。
　　　　　　　Chasu　Metessa；　the　baronial　keep；　had　stood　atop　one　of　the　highest　hills　since　the　days　of　the　later　Imperators；　looking　down　on　these　valleys　full　of　small　farms　and　freeholdings　just　as　Isgrimnur　did　now。
　　　　　　　He　turned　from　the　window　to　find　Pasevalles　pacing　impatiently。　The　boy　said：　〃e　and　see　the　armor。〃
〃That　sounds　like　the　kind　of　thing　I　shouldn't　see。〃
　　　　　　　〃No；　it's　old　armor。〃　He　was　disgusted　by　Isgrimnur's　obtuseness。　〃Very　old。〃
　　　　　　　The　Rimmersman　allowed　himself　to　be　tugged　along。　The　child's　energy　seemed　without　bound。
　　　　　　　If　Isorn　had　been　this　demanding；　he　thought　wryly；　I　would　likely　have　taken　him　out　to　the　Frostmarch　and　left　him；　like　they　did　in　the　old　days　when　they　had　one　mouth　too　many　to　feed。
　　　　　　　Pasevalles　led　him　through　a　warren　of　hallways；　past　more　than　a　few　of　the　keep's　inhabitants；　who　looked　at　Isgrimnur　with　alarm；　to　a　corner　tower　that　seemed　a　fairly　late　addition　to　the　ancient　hill　fortress。　After　they　had　climbed　far　more　stairs　than　were　good　for　Isgrimnur's　aching　back；　they　reached　a　cluttered　room　near　the　top。　The　ceiling　had　not　been　recently　swept…a　canopy　of　cobwebs　hung　down　almost　to　head　height…　and　a　heavy　patina　of　dust　covered　the　floor　and　all　the　crude　furnishings；　but　Isgrimnur　was　nevertheless　impressed　with　what　he　saw。
　　　　　　　A　series　of　wooden　armor…stands　ranged　the　room　like　silent　guardsmen。　Unlike　the　rest　of　the　objects　in　the　circular　chamber；　they　were　paratively　clean。　On　every　stand　hung　a　set　of　armor…but　not　modern　armor；　as　Pasevalles　had　so　crossly　pointed　out：　the　helmets　and　breastplates　and　curious　metal…strip　skirts　were　of　a　type　that　Isgrimnur　had　seen　before　only　in　very　old　paintings　in　the　Sancellan　Mahistrevis。
　　　　　　　'This　is　armor　from　the　Imperium！〃　he　said；　impressed。　〃Or　damn　clever　copies。〃
　　　　　　　Pasevalles　drew　himself　up　to　his　full　height。　〃They　are　not　copies！　They　are　real。　My　father　has　been　keeping　them　for　years　My　grandfather　bought　them　in　the　great　city。〃
〃In　Nabban；〃　Isgrimnur　mused。　He　walked　along　the　rows；　examining　the　various　costumes；　his　warrior's　eye　seeing　which　were　flawed　in　design；　which　simply　missing　pieces　from　the　original　arrangement。　The　metal　the　old　Imperatorial　craftsmen　had　used　was　heavier　than　that　now　used；　but　the　armor　was　splendidly　made。　He　leaned　close　to　examine　a　helm　with　a　twining　sea…dragon　crest。　To　get　a　better　look；　he　puffed　away　a　fine　layer　of　dust。
〃These　have　not　been　polished　in　some　time；〃　he　said　absently。
〃My　father　has　been　ill。〃　Little　Pasevalles'　voice　was　suddenly　querulous。　〃I　try　to　keep　them　clean；　but　they　are　too　tall　for　me　to　reach　and　too　heavy　for　me　to　lift　down。〃
Isgrimnur　looked　around　the　room；　thinking。　The　uninhabited　armor　suits　seemed　like　watchers　at　a　Raed；　waiting　for　some　decision。　There　were　still　many　things　for　him　to　do。　Surely　he　had　spent　enough　time　with　this　boy？　He　walked　to　the　tower　window　and　peered　out　into　the　gray　western　sky。
　　　　　　　〃We　will　not　eat　for　some　hour　or　so　yet；〃　he　said　at　last；　〃and　your　uncle　and　Prince　Josua　will　not　be　speaking　of　the　other　important　things　that　must　be　discussed　until　afterward。　Go　and　get　your　father's　cleaning　things…at　least　a　whisking　broom　to　get　the　dust　off。　You　and　I　can　make　short　work　of　this。〃
　　　　　　　The　boy　looked　up；　eyes　wide。　〃Truly？〃
'Truly。　I　am　in　no　hurry　to　go　back　down　all　those　stairs；　in　any　case。〃　The　boy　was　still　staring。　〃Bless　me；　child；　go　on。　And　bring　a　lamp　or　two。　It'll　be　dark　soon。〃
　　　　　　　The　boy　sped　out　of　the　room　and　down　the　narrow　stairwell　like　a　hare。　Isgrimnur　shook　his　head。

　　　　　　　The　banqueting　hall　of　Chasu　Metessa　had　a　fireplace　along　each　wall；　and　was　warm　and　bright　despite　the　chilliness　of　the　season。　The　courtiers；　landed　folk　from　all　over　the　valley；　seemed　to　be　dressed　in　their　finest：　many　of　the　women　wore　long　shimmery　dresses　and　hats　almost　as　weirdly　inventive　as　those　to　be　seen　at　the　Sancellan　Mahistrevis　itself。　Still；　Isgrimnur　noted　the　air　of　worry　that　hung　like　a　fog　in　the　huge；　high…raftered　chamber。　The　ladies　talked　swiftly　and　brightly　and　laughed　at　tiny　things。　The　men　were　mostly　quiet；　what　little　they　did　say　was　spoken　behind　their　hands。
　　　　　　　A　cask　of　Teligure　wine　had　been　breached　at　the　start　of　things　and　its　contents　shared　out　around　the　room。　Isgrimnur　noticed　that　Josua；　who　was　seated　at　the　right　of　their　host　Baron　Seriddan；　had　raised　his　goblet　to