tw.theburningman-第3部分
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High Keep and then never discovered again。 On that first day； it was clear to me that the mighty castle could only have been built by giants。
The curtain wall was impressive enough to a small girl … ten times my own height and made of huge； rough stones that I could not imagine being hauled into place by anything smaller than the grandest of ogres … but the inner walls； in the places where they still stood； were not just vast but also beautiful。 They were shaped of shining white stone which had been polished like jewellery； the blocks of equal size to those of the outer wall but with every join so seamless that from a distance each wall appeared to be a single thing； a curving piece of ivory or bone erupting from the hillside。
Many of the keep's original buildings had been burned or torn down； some so that the men from Rimmersgard could pillage the stones to build their own tower； squat as a barrel but very tall。 In any other place the Northmen's huge construction would have loomed over the whole landscape and would certainly have been the focus of my amazement。 But in any other place； there would not have been the Angel Tower。
I did not know its name then … in fact； it had no name； since the shape at its very peak could scarcely be seen … but the moment I saw it I knew there could be nothing else like it on earth； and for once childish exaggeration was correct。 Its entrance was blocked by piles of rubble the Northmen had never finished clearing； and much of the lower part of its facade had cracked and fallen away in some unimaginable cataclysm； so that its base was raw stone； but it still thrust into the sky like a great white fang； taller than any tree； taller than anything mortals have ever built。
Excited but also frightened； I asked my mother whether the tower might not fall down on us。 She tried to reassure me； saying it had stood for a longer time than I could imagine； perhaps since before there had even been people living beside the Kingslake； but that only made me feel other； stranger things。
The last words my mother ever spoke to me were； 'Bring me a dragon's claw。'
I thought at first that in the final hours of her illness she was wandering in her thoughts back to our early days at the castle。
The story of the High Keep's dragon； the creature who had driven out the last of the Northmen； was so old it had lost much of its power to frighten； but it was still potent to a little girl。 The men of my stepfather's pany used to bring me bits of polished stone … I learned after a while that they were shards of crumbled wall…carvings from the oldest parts of the castle … and tell me； 'See； here is a broken piece of the great red dragon's claw。 He lives down in the caves below the castle； but sometimes at night he es up to sniff around。 He is sniffing for little girls to eat！'
The first few times； I believed them。 Then； as I grew older and less susceptible； I learned to scorn the very idea of the dragon。 Now that 1 am an old woman； I am plagued by dreams of it again。 Sometimes even when I am awake； I think I can sense it down in the darkness below the castle； feel the moments of restlessness that trouble its long； deep sleep。
So on that night long ago； when my dying mother told me to bring her a dragon's claw； I thought she was remembering something from our first year in the castle。 I was about to go look for one of the old stones； but her bondwoman Ulca … what the Nabbanai called her handmaiden or body servant … told me that was not what my mother wanted。 A dragon's claw； she explained to me； was a charm to help those who suffered find the ease of a swift death。 Ulca had tears in her eyes； and I think she was Aedonite enough to be troubled by the idea； but she was a sensible young woman and did not waste time arguing the right or wrong of it。 She told me that the only way I could get such a thing swiftly would be from a woman named Xanippa who lived in the settlement that had sprung up just outside the High Keep's walls。
I was barely into womanhood； but I felt very much a child。 The idea of even such a short journey outside the walls after dark frightened me； but my mother had asked； and to refuse a deathbed request was a sin long before Mother Church arrived to parcel up and name the rights and wrongs of life。 I left Ulca at my mother's side and hurried across the rainy； nightbound castle。
The woman Xanippa had once been a whore； but as she had bee older and fatter she had decided she needed another profession； and had developed a name as a herbwife。 Her tumbledown hut； which stood against the keep's southeast curtain wall； overlooking the Kingswood； was full of smoke and bad smells。 Xanippa had hair like a bird's nest； tied with what had once been a pretty ribbon。 Her face might have been round and ely once； but years and fat had turned it into something that looked as though it had been brought up in a fishing net。 She was also so large she did not move from her stool by the fire during the time I was there … or on most other occasions； I guessed。
Xanippa was very suspicious of me at first； but when she found out who I was and what I wanted； and saw my face as proof； she accepted the three small coins I gave her and gestured for me to fetch her splintered wooden chest from the fireplace corner。 Like its mistress； the chest had clearly once been in better condition and more prettily painted。 She set it on the curve of her belly and began to search through it with a painstaking care that seemed at odds with everything else about her。
'Ah； here；' she said at last。 'Dragon's claw。' She held out her hand to show me the curved； black thing。 It was certainly a claw； but far too small to belong to any dragon I could imagine。 Xanippa saw my hesitation。 'It is an owl's toe； you silly girl。 〃Dragon's claw〃 is just a name。' She pointed to a tiny ball of glass over the talon's tip。 'Do not pull that off or break it。 In fact； do not touch it at all。 Do you have a purse？'
I showed her the small bag that hung always on a cord around my neck。 Xanippa frowned。 'The cloth is very thin。' She found some rags in one of the pockets of her shapeless robe and wrapped the claw； then dropped it into my purse and tucked it back in my bodice。 As she did so； she squeezed my breast so hard that I murmured in pain； then patted my head。 'Merciful Rhiap；' she growled； 'was I ever so young as this？ In any case； be careful； my little sweetmeat。 This is heartsbane on the tip of this claw； from the marshes of the Wran。 If you are careless； this is one prick that will make sure you die a virgin。' She laughed。 'You don't want that； do you？'
I backed to the door。 Xanippa grinned to see my fright。 'And you had better give your stepfather a message from me。 He will not find what he seeks among the womenfolk here or among the herbwives of the Lake People。 Tell him he can believe me； because if I could solve his riddle； I would … and； oh； but I would make him pay dearly for it！ No； he will have to find the Witch of the Forest and put his questions to her。'
She was laughing again as I got the door open at last and escaped。 The rain was even stronger now； and I slipped and fell several times； but still ran all the way back to the Inner Bailey。
When I reached my mother's bed； the priest had already e and gone； as had my stepfather； who Ulca told me had never spoken a word。 My mother had died only a short time after I left on my errand。 I had failed her … had left her to suffer and die with no family beside her。 The shame and sorrow burned so badly that I could not imagine the pain would ever go away。 As the other women prepared her for burial； I could do nothing but weep。 The dragon's claw dangled next to my heart； all but forgotten。
I spent weeks wandering the castle； lost and miserable。 I only remembered the message Xanippa had given me when my mother had been dead and buried almost a month。
I found my stepfather on the wall overlooking the Kingslake； and told him what Xanippa had said。 He did not ask me how I came to be carrying messages for such a woman。 He did not even signify he had heard me。 His eyes were fixed on something in the far distance … on the boats of the fisher…folk； perhaps； dim in the fog。
The first years in the ruined High Keep were hard ones； and not just for my mother and me。 Lord Sulis had to oversee the rebuilding； a vast and endlessly plicated task； as well as keep up the spirits of his own people through the first bleak winter。
It is one thing for soldiers； in the initial flush of loyal indignity； to swear they will follow their wronged mander anywhere。 It is another thing entirely when that mander es to a halt； when following bees true exile。 As the Nabbanai troops came to understand that this cold backwater of Erkynland was to be their home for ever； problems began … drinking and fighting among the soldiers； and even more unhappy incidents between Sulis' men and the local people。。 。 my people； although it was hard for me to remember that sometimes。 After my mother died； I sometimes felt as if I were the true exile； surrounded by Nabbanai names and faces and speech even in the middle of my own land。
If we did not enjoy that first winter； we survived it； and continued as we had begun； a household of the dispossessed。 But if ever a man was born to endure that state； it was my stepfather。
When I see him now in my memory； when I picture again that great heavy brow and that stern face； I think of him as an island； standing by himself on the far side of dangerous waters； near but for ever unvisited。 I was too young and too shy to try to shout across the gulf that separated us； but it scarcely mattered … Sulis did not seem like a man who regretted his own solitude。 In the middle of a crowded room his eyes were always on the walls instead of the people； as though he could see through stone to some better place。 Even in his happiest and most festive moods； I seldom heard him laugh； and his swift； distracted smiles suggested that the jokes he liked best could never truly be explained to anyone else。
He was not a bad man； or even a difficult man； as my grandfathe
