tw.togreenangeltower2-第67部分

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　　　　　　　Simon　stood　uncertainly　in　the　shadows　outside　Green　Angel　Tower。　The　Inner　Bailey's　haphazard　roofs　made　a　familiar　jumble　against　the　night　sky；　but　Simon　did　not　feel　at　all　fortable。　It　was　not　just　that　he　was　an　outlaw　in　his　childhood　home；　although　that　was　disconcerting　enough：　there　was　also　something　strange　in　the　air　that　he　could　not　name；　but　which　he　nevertheless　could　sense　quite　clearly。　The　maddening　slipperiness　of　the　world　belowground　had　somehow　seeped　up　into　the　everyday　stones　of　the　castle　itself。　When　he　tilted　his　head　to　one　side；　he　could　almost　see　the　buildings　ripple　and　change　at　the　edge　of　his　sight。　Faint　blurs　of　light；　like　phantom　flames；　seemed　to　flicker　along　the　edges　of　walls；　then　quickly　vanish。
　　　　　　　The　Hayholt；　too？　Had　all　the　world　broken　loose　from　its　moorings？　What　was　happening？
　　　　　　　With　some　difficulty；　he　nerved　himself　to　go　exploring。
　　　　　　　Although　it　seemed　the　great　castle　was　deserted；　Simon　soon　discovered　it　was　not。　The　Inner　Bailey　was　dark　and　quiet；　but　voices　whispered　down　corridors　and　behind　closed　doors；　and　there　were　lights　in　many　of　the　higher　windows。　He　also　heard　snatches　of　music；　odd　tunes　and　odder　voices　that　made　him　want　to　arch　like　a　cat　and　hiss。　As　he　stood　in　the　deep　concealing　shadows　of　the　Hedge　Garden；　he　decided　that　the　Hayholt　had　somehow　bee　spoiled；　a　fruit　left　to　sit　for　too　long　now　grown　soft　and　rotten　beneath　the　outer　shell。　He　could　not　quite　say　what　was　wrong；　but　the　whole　of　the　Inner　Bailey；　the　place　that　had　been　the　center　of　Simon's　childhood　world；　seemed　to　have　sickened。
　　　　　　　He　went　stealthily　to　the　kitchen；　the　lesser　pantry；　the　chapel…even；　in　a　moment　of　high　daring；　to　the　antechamber　of　the　throne　room；　which　opened　onto　the　gardens。　All　the　outer　doors　were　barred。　He　could　find　no　entrance　anywhere。　Simon　could　not　remember　any　time　before　when　that　had　been　so。　Was　the　king　frightened　of　spies；　of　a　siege？　Or　were　the　barriers　not　to　keep　out　intruders；　but　to　make　sure　that　those　who　were　inside　remained　there？　He　breathed　quietly　and　thought。　There　were　windows　that　could　not　be　closed；　he　knew；　and　other　secret　ways…but　did　he　want　to　risk　such　difficult　entrances？　There　might　be　fewer　people　about　at　night；　but　judging　by　the　barred　doors；　those　who　were　up；　especially　if　they　were　sentries；　would　be　even　more　alert　to　unexpected　noises。
　　　　　　　Simon　returned　to　the　kitchen　and　pulled　himself　up　into　the　branches　of　a　small；　barren　apple　tree；　then　climbed　from　there　onto　the　ledge　of　the　high　window。　The　thick　glass　was　gone；　but　the　window　slot　had　been　wedged　fall　of　stones；　there　would　be　no　way　to　remove　them　without　making　a　terrible　clatter。　He　cursed　silently　and　descended。
　　　　　　　He　was　sore　and　still　terribly　hungry；　despite　the　luxury　of　a　whole　onion。　He　decided　that　he　had　wasted　his　time　on　the　doors　of　the　Inner　Bailey。　On　the　far　side　of　the　moat；　though；　the　Middle　Bailey　might　prove　less　well…protected。
　　　　　　　There　were　several　distressingly　naked　patches　of　ground　between　the　two　baileys。　Despite　not　having　seen　a　single　guard　or；　in　fact；　a　single　other　person；　Simon　had　to　force　himself　to　cross　these　open　stretches；　each　time　he　dashed　for　the　safety　of　shadows　as　soon　as　he　was　clear。　The　bridge　across　the　moat　was　the　most　unnerving　part。　He　began　to　cross　it　and　then　changed　his　mind　twice。　It　was　at　least　thirty　ells　long；　and　if　someone　appeared　while　he　was　in　the　middle；　he　would　be　as　obvious　as　a　fly　walking　on　a　white　wall。
　　　　　　　At　last　he　blew　out　a　shaky　breath；　drew　in　a　deep　gasp　of　air；　and　sprinted　across。　His　steps　sounded　as　loud　to　him　as　thunder。　He　forced　himself　to　slow　down　and　cross　at　a　silent　walk；　despite　the　thumping　of　his　heart。　When　he　reached　the　far　side　he　ducked　into　a　shed　where　he　sat　until　he　felt　steady　again。
　　　　　　　You're　doing　well；　he　told　himself。　No　one's　around。　Nothing　to　fear。
　　　　　　　He　knew　that　was　a　lie。
　　　　　　　Plenty　to　fear；　he　amended。　But　no　one's　caught　you　yet。　Not　in　a　while；　anyway。
　　　　　　　As　he　got　to　his　feet；　he　could　not　help　wondering　why　the　bridge　over　the　moat　had　been　down　in　the　first　place　if　all　the　doors　were　barred　and　windows　blocked　against　some　feared　attack。
　　　　　　　And　why　wasn't　Green　Angel　Tower　locked　up？　He　could　think　of　no　answer。
　　　　　　　Before　he　had　taken　a　hundred　paces　across　the　muddy　thoroughfare　in　the　center　of　Middle　Bailey；　he　saw　something　that　made　him　shrink　back　into　the　darkness　again；　his　terrors　suddenly　returned…this　time　with　reason。
　　　　　　　An　army　was　camped　in　the　bailey。
　　　　　　　It　had　taken　him　some　long　moments　to　realize　it；　since　so　few　fires　burned；　and　since　the　tents　were　made　of　dark　cloth　that　was　almost　invisible　in　the　night；　but　the　entire　bailey　seemed　to　be　full　of　armed　men。　He　could　see　perhaps　a　half　dozen　on　the　nearer　outskirts；　sentries　by　the　look　of　them；　cloaked　and　helmeted　and　carrying　long　pikes。　In　the　dim　light　he　could　not　see　much　of　their　faces。　Even　as　he　stood　hidden　in　a　crack　between　two　of　the　bailey's　buildings；　wondering　what　to　do　next；　another　pair　of　cloaked　and　hooded　figures　passed　him。　They　also　carried　long　spears；　but　he　could　see　immediately　that　they　were　different。　Something　in　the　way　they　carried　themselves；　something　in　their　graceful；　deceptively　swift　strides；　told　him　beyond　doubt　that　these　were　Norns。
　　　　　　　Simon　sank　farther　back　into　the　concealing　darkness；　trembling。　Would　they　know　he　was　here？　Could　they　。。。smell　him？
　　　　　　　Even　as　he　wondered；　the　black…robed　creatures　paused　only　a　short　way　from　his　hiding　place；　alert　as　hunting　dogs。　Simon　held　his　breath　and　willed　himself　to　total　stillness。　After　a　long　wait；　the　Norns　abruptly　turned　in　unison；　as　though　some　wordless　munication　had　passed　between　them；　and　continued　on　their　way。　Simon　waited　a　few　shaky　moments；　then　cautiously　poked　his　head　around　the　wall。　He　could　not　see　them　against　the　darkness；　but　he　could　see　the　human　soldiers　move　out　of　their　way；　quick　as　men　avoiding　a　snake。　For　an　instant　the　Norns　were　silhouetted　against　one　of　the　watchfires；　twin　hooded　shapes　that　seemed　oblivious　to　the　humans　around　them。　They　slipped　from　the　light　of　the　fire　and　vanished　once　more。
　　　　　　　This　was　something　unexpected。　Norns！　The　White　Foxes；　here　in　the　Hayholt　itself！　Things　were　worse　even　than　he　had　imagined。　But　hadn't　Geloe　and　the　others　said　that　the　immortals　couldn't　e　back　here？　Perhaps　they　had　meant　that　Ineluki　and　his　undead　servitors　couldn't　return。　But　even　if　that　last　was　true；　it　seemed　little　solace　just　now。
　　　　　　　So　the　Middle　Bailey　was　full　of　soldiers；　and　there　were　Norns　moving　freely　around　the　keep；　silent　as　hunting　owls。　Simon's　skin　prickled。　He　had　no　doubt　that　the　Outer　Bailey　was　also　full　of　Black　Rimmersmen；　or　Thrithings　mercenaries；　or　whatever　cutthroats　Elias　had　bought　with　Erkynland's　gold　and　the　Storm　King's　magic。　It　was　hard　to　believe　that　many　of　the　king's　own　Erkynguard；　even　the　most　ruthless；　would　remain　in　this　haunted　place　with　the　corpse…faced　Norns：　the　immortals　were　too　frighteningly　different。　It　had　been　easy　to　see　in　just　a　brief　instant　that　the　soldiers　in　the　Middle　Bailey　were　frightened　of　them。
　　　　　　　Now　I　have　a　reason　to　escape　besides　just　my　own　skin。　Josua　and　the　others　need　to　know　what　is　going　on　in　here。　He　felt　a　momentary　surge　of　hope。　Maybe　knowing　the　Norns　are　here　with　Elias　will　bring　Jiriki　and　the　rest　of　the　Sithi。　Jiriki's　kin　would　have　to　help　the　mortals　then；　wouldn't　they？　Simon　tried　to　think　carefully。　In　fact；　I　should　try　to　escape　now…if　I　can。　What　good　will　I　do　Josua　or　anyone　else　if　I　don't　get　out？
　　　　　　　But　he　had　barely　learned　anything。　He　was　exactly　what　any　war　leader　most　valued…an　experienced　eye　in　the　middle　of　the　enemy　camp。　Simon　knew　the　Hayholt　like　a　farmer　knew　his　fields；　like　a　blacksmith　knew　his　tools。　He　owed　it　to　his　good　fortune　in　surviving　this　far…good　fortune；　yes；　he　reminded　himself；　but　his　wits　and　resourcefulness　had　helped　him；　too…to　take　all　he　could　from　the　situation。
　　　　　　　So。　Back　to　the　Inner　Bailey。　He　could　last　a　day　or　two　without　food　if　necessary；　since　water　seemed　to　be　abundantly　available。　Plenty　of　time　to　spy　out　what　useful　things　he　could；　then　find　a　way　out　past　the　soldiers　to　freedom。　If　he　had　to；　he　could　even　make　his　way　back　under　the　castle　and　through　the　dark　tunnels　again。　That　would　be　the　surest　way　to　escape　undetected。
　　　　　　　No。　Not　the　tunnels。
　　　　　　　It　was　no　use　pretending。　Even　for　Josua　and　the　others；　that　was　something　he　could　not　do。
　　　　　　　He　was　approaching　the　bridge　to　the　Inner　Bailey　when　a　loud　clatter　made　Simon　pull　back　into　the　shadows　once　more。　When　he　saw　the　group　of　mounted　shapes　riding　out　onto　the　span；　he　silently　thanked　Usires　for　not　bringing　him　to　the　bridge　a　few　moments　earlier。
　　　　　　　The　pany　seemed　made　up　of　armored　Erkynguardsmen；　strangely　dispirited…looking　for　all　their　martial　finery。　Simon　had　only　a　moment　to　wonder　what　their　errand　might　be　when　he　saw　a　chillingly　familiar　bald　head　in　their　midst。
　　　　　　　Pryrates！　Simon　pushed　back　against　the　wall；　staring。　A　choking　hatred　rose　up　inside　of　him。　There　the　monster　was；　not　three　score　paces　away；　his　hairless　features　limned　by　faint　moonlight。
　　　　　　　I　could　be　on　him　in　a　moment；　he　thought　wildly。　If　I　walked　up　slowly；　the　soldiers　wouldn't　worry…they'd　just　think　I　was　one　of　the　mercenaries　who　'd　drunk　too　much　wine。　I　could　crush　his　skull　with　a　rock。。。。
　　　　　　　But　what　if　he　failed？　Then　he　would　easily　be　captured；　any　use　he　might　be　to　Josua　finished　before　it　had　begun。　And　worse；　he　would　be　the　red　priest's　prisoner。　It　was　just　as　Binabik　had　said：　how　long　would　it　be　until　he　told　Pryrates　every　secret　about　Josua；　about　the　Sithi　and　the　swords…until　he　begged　to　tell　the　alchemist　anything　he　wanted　to　hear？
　　　　　　　Simon　could　not　help　shuddering　like　a　taunted　dog　at　the　end　of　a　rope。　The　monster　was　so　close。。。　
　　　　　　　The　pany　of　horsemen　stopped。　The　priest　was　berating　one　of　the　Erkynguards；　his　raspy　voice　faint　but　unmistakable。　Simon　leaned　as　far　forward　as　he　could　with