fs.thefirstbookofswords-第35部分

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raybeard　nobleman；　they　hurled　themselves　with　a　warcry　at　the　first　group。　Mark　knew　that　his　own　hand　still　held　a　sword。　He　told　himself　that　he　should　be　doing　something。　But　the　sense　that　his　place　in　the　world　had　changed　still　held　him。　It　was　not　like　anything　he　had　ever　felt　before。　He　thought　that　he　could　still　feel　the　two　hilts；　one　in　each　hand。　And　then　he　could　feel　nothing　at　all。
Chapter　11
　　　〃Yes；　I　am　Draffut；　once　called　by　humans　the　Lord　of　Beasts。　And　now　they　call　me　a　god。〃　In　the　deep　voice　were　tired　tones　that　mocked　the　foolishness　of　humans。　〃Stand　up；　man。　No　human　being　should　kneel　to　me。〃
　　　All　around　Nestor　and　the　giant　the　night　creatures　of　the　swamp　were　awakening；　from　whatever　daytime　dreams　they　had　to　noisy　life。　Nestor　stood　up。　His　emotional　outburst；　whether　or　not　it　had　been　based　on　some　misconception；　had　relieved　something　in　him　and　he　felt　calmer。　〃Very　well；〃　he　said。　〃What　shall　I　call　you；　then？〃
　　　〃I　am　Draffut。　It　is　enough。　And　you　are　Nestor；　who　kills　dragons。　Now　e　with　me；　you　will　need　food　and　rest。〃
　　　〃Rest；　first；　I　think。〃　Nestor　rubbed　at　his　eyes：　exhaustion　was　rapidly　overtaking　him。　The　sword　dragged　down　whichever　hand　he　held　it　in。
　　　Draffut　led　the　way　back　to　the　ancient　temple。　Standing　beside　the　building；　he　raised　a　shaggy　arm　to　indicate　a　place　where；　he　said；　Nestor　should　be　able　to　rest　in　safety。　This　was　a　half…ruined　room　on　an　upper　level；　in　a　portion　of　the　structure　that　once　had　had　a　second　floor。　The　stairway　nearby　had　almost　entirely　disappeared；　but　Nestor　was　agile　and　he　found　a　way　to　scramble　up。　His　assigned　resting　place　was　open　to　the　sky；　but　at　least　it　should　offer　him　some　degree　of　isolation　from　creeping　things。　When　Nestor　turned　from　a　quick　inspection　of　the　place　to　speak　to　Draffut　again；　he　saw　to　his　surprise　that　the　giant　had　disappeared。
　　　Neither　the　hard　floor　of　his　high　chamber；　nor　the　possibility　of　danger；　kept　Nestor　from　falling　quickly　into　a　deep　sleep；　that　turned　almost　at　once　into　a　vivid　dream。
　　　In　this　dream　he　beheld　a　fantastic　procession；　that　was　made　up　partly　of　human　beings；　and　partly　of　others　who　were　only　vaguely　visualized。　The　procession　was　marching　through　brilliant　sunlight　to　the　temple；　at　some　time　in　the　days　of　that　building's　wholeness　and　glory。　At　first　the　dream　was　quite　a　pleasant　experience。　Then　came　the　point　when　Nestor　realized　that　in　the　midst　of　the　procession　was　being　borne　a　maiden　meant　for　sacrifice　…　and　that　the　prospective　victim　was　Barbara。
　　　In　the　dream　Barbara　was　straining　at　the　bonds　that　held　her；　and　crying　out　to　him　for　help。　But　in　terror　Nestor　turned　away　from　her。　Clasping　the　hilt　of　his　precious　sword；　which　he　knew　he　must　not　lose　no　matter　what；　he　ran　with　it　into　the　jungle　surrounding　the　temple　closely。　This　was　a　dreamgrowth　of　spectacular　colors；　very　different　from　the　scrubby　woods　that　his　waking　eyes　had　beheld　covering　most　of　the　island。　But　as　soon　as　Nestor　had　reached　the　jungle；　the　sword…hilt　in　his　hand　turned　into　something　else　…　and　before　he　could　understand　what　it　had　bee；　he　was　waking　up；　gasping　with　his　fear。
　　　Night…creatures　were　being　noisy　at　a　little　distance；　yet　the　darkness　round　him　was　peaceful　enough；　though　he　was　breathing　as　hard　as　if　he　had　been　fighting。　The　gibbous　moon　was　by　now　almost　directly　overhead；　in　a　sky　patched　with　clouds；　it　was　some　time　near　the　middle　of　the　night。
　　　The　image　of　Barbara　remained　vividly　with　Nestor　for　some　time　after　he　had　awakened。　Ought　he　to　have　stood　by　the　spilled　wagon；　sword　in　hand；　to　fight　for　her　and　for　the　others？
　　　Nonsense。　Before　he'd　managed　to　get　his　hand　on　a　sword；　they'd　all　run　away；　scattering　and　hiding　as　best　they　could。　He　would　have　been　killed；　and　it　would　have　done　no　one　any　good　at　all。
　　　Maybe　he　knew　that　he　would　have　run　away；　even　if　the　others　hadn't。　But　it　was　nonsense；　dredging　up　such　theoretical　things　to　worry　about。
　　　Though　the　unpleasantness　of　the　dream　lingered；　Nestor　soon　fell　asleep　again。　He　woke　with　the　feeling　that　no　time　at　all　had　passed；　though　the　sun　was　now　fully　up　in　a　bright　sky；　and　monkbirds　were　exchanging　loud　cries　in　branches　not　far　above　his　head。
　　　Nestor　sat　up；　reflecting　on　how　well　he　felt；　how　rested。　He　rubbed　the　shoulder　that　yesterday　had　been　…　he　was　sure　of　it　broken。　It　felt　as　good　as　the　other　shoulder　now。
　　　He　vaguely　remembered　having　some　disagreeable　dream；　but　he　no　longer　remembered　what　it　had　been　about。
　　　The　sword　was　at　his　side；　just　where　he　had　put　it　down。　What　had　Draffut　said；　that　sounded　like　quoted　verse？
　　　　　　　　　　　Long　roads　the　Sword　of　Fury　makes；
　　　　　　　　　　　Hard　walls　it　builds　around　the　soft。。。
　　　Nestor　would　have　given　something　to　hear　the　rest。
　　　Beside　the　sword　now　was　a　pile　of　fresh　fruit　that　certainly　had　not　been　there　when　he　last　fell　asleep。　Nestor　sniffed　at　something　yellow　and　round　then　nibbled　cautiously。　Then；　suddenly　ravenous；　he　fell　to。　The　sword　made　a　convenient　tool　to　slice　and　peel。
　　　Before　Nestor　had　fully　satisfied　his　appetite；　Draffut　appeared；　walking　tree…tall　from　among　the　trees。　The　giant　exchanged　rather　casual　greetings　with　Nestor；　and　claimed　credit　for　the　provision　of　the　marls　breakfast；　for　which　Nestor　thanked　him。　In　the　bright　morning　Draffut's　fur　glowed　delicately；　just　as　it　had　in　twilight　and　after　dark；　holding　its　own　light。　As　Draffut　stood　on　the　ground　outside　the　temple　his　face　was　approximately　on　a　level　with　Nestor's；　who　was　standing　on　what　had　once　been　a　second　floor。
　　　This　morning　Nestor　felt　no　impulse　to　kneel。　He　realized　that　his　awe　of　Draffut　was　already　fading　into　something　that　approached　familiarity；　and　in　an　obscure　way　the　man　partially　regretted　the　fact。　As　soon　as　a　few　conversational　preliminaries　had　been　gone　through；　he　asked：　〃Draffut；　will　you　tell　me　about　the　gods？　And　about　yourself。　If　you　maintain　you　are　not　one　of　them；　I　don't　intend　to　argue　with　you。　But　perhaps　you　can　understand　why　I　thought　you　were。〃
　　　Draffut　answered　thoughtfully。　〃I　understand　that　humans　often　show　a　need　for　beings　greater　than　themselves。　But　I　repeat　that　I　can　tell　you　very　little　about　the　gods。　Their　ways　are　often　beyond　my　understanding。　As　for　my　own　story；　it　is　very　long　and　I　think　that　now　is　not　the　time　for　me　to　begin　to　tell　it。　Right　now　it　is　more　important　that　I　learn　more　about　your　sword。〃
　　　〃Very　well。〃　Nestor　looked　down　at　the　blade　with　which　he　had　been　halving　fruit；　that　was　not　really　his。　He　sighed；　and　shook　his　head；　thinking　of　the　one　he'd　lost。　Then　he　explained　as　briefly　as　he　could　how　the　wagon　he　had　been　driving　had　been　pursued；　and　had　tipped　over；　and　what　had　happened　to　him　after　that；　and　what　he　surmised　might　have　happened　to　his　panions。　〃So；　the　landwalker；　which　I　suppose　was　your　creature　too；　attacked　Duke　Fraktin's　men　in　the　vicinity　of　the　wagon　…　or　at　least　that's　what　it　sounded　like。　I　could　not　stay　to　see　who　won　the　fight；　for　your　messenger　came　to　invite　me　to　be　your　guest。　So；　that　boy　may　have　my　sword　now。　Or　the　Duke　might　have　it；　or　some　of　his　soldiers。　As　for　this　blade　here；　the　boy　told　me　that　it　can　kill　fighting　men　with　great　efficiency。　I've　never　put　it　to　the　test。〃
　　　Draffut　stared　as　if　he　thought　a　particularly　interesting　point　had　been　raised。　Then　the　giant　asked：　〃You　have　fought　against　other　men　at　some　time　in　the　past；　though？　And　killed　them　sometimes？〃
　　　Nestor　paused　warily　before　he　answered。　〃Yes；　when　it　seemed　to　me　there　was　no　way　of　avoiding　such　a　fight。　Soldiering　is　not　a　profession　that　I'd　choose　to　follow。〃
　　　〃It　is　no　more　dangerous　than　hunting　dragons；　surely。〃
　　　〃Less　so；　perhaps；　most　of　the　time。　Still　I'd　not　choose　it。〃　And　at　the　same　time；　Nestor　could　not　help　wondering　again　what　might　have　happened　back　at　the　wagon　if　he　had　turned　with　this　sword　in　hand　to　fight　the　Duke's　patrol。　Probably　if　he'd　survived　that　by　some　magic；　he　would　have　had　to　fight　the　dragon　too。　Almost　certainly　he'd　now　be　dead；　magic　swords　or　not；　just　like　the　brother　that　young　Einar　…　if　that　was　his　real　name　…　had　spoken　of。　Well；　he　was　sure　he　was　going　to　die　in　some　kind　of　a　fight；　sometime；　somewhere。　But　there　was　an　inescapable　fascination　about　the　particulars。
　　　Meanwhile　Draffut　stood　in　thoughtful　silence；　considering　Nestor's　answer。　Once　the　giant　reached　with　two　fingers　to　the　pile　of　fruit；　and　popped　several　pieces　into　his　mouth　at　once；　chewing　with　huge　fangs　that　appeared　much　better　suited　to　a　carnivorous　diet。　To　Nestor；　this　mere　fact　of　eating　somehow　added　force　to　Draffut's　disclaimer　of　divinity　though　if　he　thought　about　it；　he　recalled　that　the　deities　were　often　described　as　feasting。
　　　Nestor　at　last　broke　the　silence　with　a　question：　〃What　do　you　plan　to　do　with　me？〃
　　　Draffut　roused　himself　from　thought　with　a　shake　of　his　head。　〃I　am　sorry　now　that　I　sent　dragons　to　bring　you　here；　at　risk　of　your　being　killed　or　injured。　For　it　seems　that　you　can　tell　me　little　that　is