df.therunelords-第26部分

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　〃Don't　stub　your　toes　in　the　shadows。　Must　I　watch　you　every　moment？〃　Binnesman　hissed。　He　kept　his　voice　low；　as　if　to　keep　from　being　overheard；　knowing　well　that　each　soldier　in　Raj　Ahten's　guard　had　enough　endowments　of　hearing　to　discern　the　very　sound　of　Gaborn's　heart　at　this　distance。
　Binnesman　led　him　round　to　the　back　of　the　kitchens。　There　they　met　the　kitchen　maid。　〃Good；　you　found　him！〃　she　whispered　to　Binnesman。　The　herbalist　just　nodded；　held　a　finger　up；　warning　her　not　to　speak；　then　led　them　both　through　a　small　iron　gate　out　the　back　of　the　Dedicates'　Keep；　along　a　worn　trail；　into　a　garden。　The　cook's　herb　garden。
　Along　the　south　wall　of　the　garden　grew　some　dark　green　vines；　climbing　the　stone　wall。　Binnesman　stopped；　began　picking　leaves。　In　the　failing　light；　even　Gaborn　recognized　the　narrow；　spade…shaped　leaves　of　dogbane。
　As　soon　as　he'd　picked　a　handful；　Binnesman　rolled　them　in　his　palm；　bruising　them。　To　a　mon　man　the　dogbane　had　only　a　slightly　malodorous　scent；　but　it　was　poison　to　dogs。　They　avoided　it。　And　Binnesman　was　a　master　magician　capable　of　strengthening　the　effects　of　his　herbs。
　What　Gaborn　smelled　in　that　moment　was　indescribablea　gut…wrenching　oily　reek　from　a　nightmare；　like　evil　incarnate。　Indeed；　an　image　filled　Gaborn's　mindas　if　suddenly　a　giant　spider　had　strung　webs　of　murder　here　across　the　path。　Deadly。　Deadly。　Gaborn　could　imagine　how　the　stuff　would　affect　a　hound。
　Binnesman　sprinkled　these　leaves　on　the　ground；　rubbed　some　on　Gaborn's　heel。
　When　he'd　finished；　he　led　Gaborn　through　the　cook's　garden；　ignoring　other　herbs　as　he　went。　They　jumped　a　low　wall；　came　to　the　King's　Wallthe　second　tier　of　the　city's　defenses。
　Binnesman　led　Gaborn　along　a　narrow　road　with　the　King's　Wall　on　one　side；　the　backs　of　merchants'　shops　on　the　other；　till　he　reached　a　small　gate　with　iron　bars；　small　enough　so　a　man　would　have　to　duck　to　pass　through。　Two　guards　stood　at　the　gate　in　the　stone　wall。　At　a　gesture　from　Binnesman；　one　guard　produced　a　key；　unlocked　the　iron　gate。
　Gaborn　set　down　the　stinking　buckets　of　feces；　wanting　to　be　rid　of　the　burden；　but　Binnesman　hissed；　〃Keep　them。〃
　The　guards　let　the　three　through。　Outside　the　wall　was　a　kingly　garden；　a　garden　more　lush；　more　magnificent　than　any　Gaborn　had　ever　seen。　In　the　sudden　openness；　the　last　failing　light　of　day　still　let　Gaborn　see　better　than　he　had　in　the　shadows　of　the　narrow　streets。
　Yet　the　term　〃garden〃　did　not　feel　entirely　correct。　The　plants　that　grew　here　were　not　pampered　and　set　in　rows。　Instead　they　grew　in　wild　profusion　and　in　great　variety　all　about；　as　if　the　soil　were　so　alive　that　it　could　not　help　but　produce　them　all　in　such　great　abundance。
　Strange　bushes　with　flowers　like　white　stars　joined　in　an　arch　over　their　heads。　Creepers　trailed　up　all　along　the　garden's　stone　walls；　as　if　seeking　to　escape。
　The　garden　rolled　away　for　a　half　mile　in　each　direction。　A　meadow　full　of　flowers　spread　before　them；　and　beyond　it　lay　a　hillock　overgrown　with　pines　and　strange　trees　from　the　south　and　east。
　In　this　place；　odd　things　had　happened：　orange　and　lemon　trees　grew　beside　a　warm　pool；　trees　that　should　never　have　survived　these　winters。　And　there　were　other　trees　beyond；　with　strange　hairlike　leaves　and　long　fronds；　and　twisting　red　branches　that　seemed　to　rake　the　sky。
　A　stream　tinkled　through　the　meadow。　A　family　of　deer　there　drank　at　a　small　pool。　The　pale　forms　of　flowers　and　herbs　sprouted　everywhere；　blossoming　in　profusion。　Exotic　forests　rose　to　both　the　east　and　the　west。
　Even　this　late　in　the　evening；　with　the　sun　having　fallen；　the　drone　of　honeybees　filled　the　air。
　Gaborn　inhaled　deeply；　and　it　seemed　that　the　scents　of　all　the　world's　forests　and　flower　gardens　and　spices　rushed　into　his　lungs　at　once。　He　felt　he　could　hold　that　scent　forever；　that　it　enlivened　every　fiber　of　his　being。
　All　the　weariness；　all　the　pain　of　the　past　few　days　seemed　to　wash　out　of　him。　The　scent　of　the　garden　was　rich。　Intoxicating。
　Until　this　moment；　he　thought；　he'd　never　truly　been　alive。　He　felt　no　desire　to　leave；　no　hurry　to　leave。　It　was　not　as　if　time　ceased　here。　No；　it　was　a　feeling　of。。。security。　As　if　the　land　here　would　protect　him　from　his　enemies；　just　as　it　protected　Binnesman's　plants　from　the　ravages　of　winter。
　Binnesman　bent　low；　pulled　off　his　shoes。　He　motioned　for　Gaborn　and　the　serving　wench　to　do　the　same。
　This　had　to　be　the　wizard's　garden；　the　legendary　garden　that　some　said　Binnesman　would　never　leave。
　Four　years　earlier；　when　the　old　wizard　Yarrow　had　died；　some　scholars　at　the　House　of　Understanding　had　wanted　Binnesman　to　e；　to　assume　the　role　of　hearthmaster　in　the　Room　of　Earth　Powers。　It　was　a　post　of　such　prestige　that　few　wizards　had　ever　rejected　it。　But　then　there　had　been　a　huge　uproar。　Binnesman　had　published　an　herbal　several　years　earlier；　describing　herbs　that　would　benefit　mankind。　An　Earth　Warden　named　Hoewell　had　attacked　the　herbal；　claiming　that　it　contained　numerous　errors；　that　Binnesman　had　misidentified　several　rare　herbs；　had　drawn　pictures　of　plantains　hanging　upside　down；　had　claimed　that　saffrona　mysterious　and　valuable　spice　brought　from　islands　far　to　the　southcame　from　a　specific　type　of　flower　when；　in　fact；　everyone　knew　that　it　was　a　mixture　of　pollens　collected　from　the　beaks　of　nesting　hummingbirds。
　Some　sided　with　Binnesman；　but　Hoewell　was　both　a　master　scholar　and　a　ruthless　politician。　Somehow　he　had　succeeded　in　humiliating　and　disaffecting　a　number　of　minor　herbalists；　even　though；　as　an　Earth　Warden　by　training；　his　own　magical　powers　dealt　with　the　creation　of　magical　artifactsa　field　apart　from　herbalism。　Still；　his　political　maneuvering　swayed　a　number　of　prominent　scholars。
　So　Binnesman　never　got　the　post　as　hearthmaster　in　the　Room　of　Earth　Powers。　Now　some　people　said　that　Binnesman　had　refused　the　post　in　shame；　others　that　his　appointment　would　never　have　been　ratified。　As　Gaborn　saw　it；　such　were　the　lies　and　rumors　that　Hoewell　promulgated　to　aggrandize　himself。
　Yet　a　rumor　more　persistent　than　any　other　arose；　and　this　one　Gaborn　believed：　In　the　House　of　Understanding；　some　good　men　whispered　that　despite　the　pleas　of　many　scholars；　Binnesman　simply　would　not　go　to　Mystarria；　not　for　any　prestigious　post。　He　would　not　leave　his　beloved　garden。
　On　seeing　the　exotic　trees；　tasting　the　scents　of　rare　spices　and　honeyed　flowers　on　the　wind；　Gaborn　understood。　Of　course　the　herbalist　could　not　leave　his　garden。　This　was　Binnesman's　life's　work。　This　was　his　masterpiece。
　Binnesman　tapped　Gaborn's　boot　with　his　foot　again。　The　serving　wench　already　had　her　shoes　off。　〃Forgive　me；　Your　Lordship；〃　Binnesman　said；　〃but　you　must　remove　your　shoes。　This　is　not　mon　ground。〃
　In　a　daze；　Gaborn　did　as　ordered；　pulling　off　his　boots。　He　got　up；　wanting　nothing　more　than　to　stroll　through　these　grounds　for　a　day。
　Binnesman　nodded　meaningfully　toward　the　buckets　of　feces。　Gaborn　hefted　his　unsavory　burden；　and　they　were　off；　strolling　across　a　carpet　of　rosemary　and　mint　that　emitted　a　gentle；　cleansing　scent　as　their　feet　bruised　the　leaves。
　Binnesman　led　Gaborn　through　the　meadow；　past　the　deer　that　only　looked　at　the　old　Earth　Warden　longingly。　He　reached　a　particular　rowan　tree；　a　tree　that　was　phenomenally　tall；　a　perfect　cone。　He　studied　it　a　moment；　then　said。　〃This　is　the　place。〃
　He　dug　a　small　hole　in　the　detritus　beneath　the　tree；　motioned　for　Gaborn　to　bring　the　dung。
　When　Gaborn　brought　the　buckets；　Binnesman　emptied　them　into　the　Pit。　Something　clanked。　Among　the　feces　Gaborn　saw　objects　dark　and　metallic。
　With　a　start　he　recognized　Sylvarresta's　forcibles。
　〃e；〃　Binnesman　said；　〃we　can't　let　Raj　Ahten　have　these。〃　He　picked　up　the　forcibies；　placed　them　back　into　the　bucket；　ignoring　the　dung　on　his　hands。　He　walked　fifty　paces　to　the　brook；　where　trout　snapped　at　mosquitoes；　slapping　the　water。
　Binnesman　stepped　into　the　stream　and　rinsed　the　forcibles　one　by　one。　Then　he　placed　them　together　on　the　bank。　Fifty…six　forcibles。　The　sun　had　set　nearly　half　an　hour　ago；　and　the　forcibles　now　seemed　but　dark　shadows　on　the　ground。
　When　Binnesman　finished；　Gaborn　tore　a　strip　of　cloth　from　his　tunic　and　wrapped　the　forcibles　into　a　bundle。
　Gaborn　looked　up；　caught　Binnesman　appraising　him；　squinting　in　the　half…light。　The　herbalist　seemed　lost　in　thought。　His　beefy　jowls　sagged。　He　was　not　a　tall　man；　but　he　was　broad　of　shoulder；　stocky。
　〃Thank　you；〃　Gaborn　said；　〃for　saving　the　forcibles。〃
　Binnesman　did　not　acknowledge　his　words；　merely　studied　him；　as　if　peering　behind　Gaborn's　eyes；　or　as　if　he　sought　to　memorize　Gaborn's　every　feature。
　〃So；〃　Binnesman　said　after　a　long　moment。　〃Who　are　you？〃
　Gaborn　chuckled。　〃Don't　you　know？〃
　〃King　Orden's　son；〃　Binnesman　muttered。　〃But　who　else　are　you？　What　mitments　have　you　made？　A　man　is　defined　by　his　mitments。〃
　A　cold　dread　filled　Gaborn　at　the　way　the　Earth　Warden　said　〃mitments。〃　He　felt　certain　that　Binnesman　was　speaking　of　the　oath　he'd　made　this　night　to　Princess　Sylvarresta。　An　oath　he'd　rather　have　kept　secret。　Or　perhaps　he　spoke　of　the　promise　Gaborn　had　made　to　the　kitchen　wench；　the　promise　to　save　her；　or　even　the　silent　vow　he'd　made　to　Chemoise　and　her　father。　And；　somehow；　he　felt；　these　mitments　might　offend　the　herbalist。　He　glanced　at　the　kitchen　wench；　who　stood　with　hands　folded；　as　if　afraid　to　touch　anything。
　〃I'm　a　Runelord。　An　Oath…Bound　Lord。〃
　〃Hmmm。。。〃　Binnesman　muttered。　〃Good　enough；　I　suppose。　You　serve　something　greater　than　yourself。　And　why　are　you　here？　Why　are　you　in　Castle　Sylvarresta　now；　instead　of　next　week；　when　your　father　was　scheduled　to　arrive？〃
　Gaborn　answered　simply。　〃He　sent　me　ahead。　He　wanted　me　to　see　the　kingdom；　to　fall　in　love　with　its　land；　with　its　people；　as　he　had。〃
　Binnesman　nodded　thoughtfully；　stroking　his　beard。　〃And　how　do　you　like　it？　How　do　you　like　this　land？〃
　Gaborn　wanted　to　say　that　he　admired　it；　that　he　found　the　kingdom　beautiful；　strong　and　almost　flawless；　but　Binnesman　spoke　with　a　tone　in　his　voice；　a　tone　of　such　respect　for　the　word　〃land；〃　that　Gaborn　sensed　they　were　not　speaking　of　the　same　thin