fs.thefirstbookofswords-第36部分

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　you　here；　at　risk　of　your　being　killed　or　injured。　For　it　seems　that　you　can　tell　me　little　that　is　useful。〃
　　　〃I　would　if　I　could。〃
　　　〃I　believe　it。　I　could　arrange　for　the　flying　dragon　to　carry　you　out　of　the　swamp　again。〃
　　　〃Thank　you；　no。　I　think　I　would　rather　remain　here　as　your　guest　for　the　next　twenty　years　or　so。　Is　there　some　other　alternative？〃
　　　〃The　number　of　alternatives　is　quite　limited。　Still；　I　can　probably　arrange　something　to　get　you　out　of　the　swamp。　In　which　direction　would　you　prefer　to　go？〃
　　　〃I　was　headed　with　my　panions　toward　the　domain　of　Kind　Sir　Andrew；　with　whom　I　had　a　hunting　contract　to　discuss。　If　my　friends　somehow　managed　to　survive　both　the　dragons　and　the　Duke's　men；　they　are　probably　there　now；　looking　for　me。〃
　　　〃And　if　they　should　still　have　with　them　your　own　sword。。。　〃
　　　〃Dragonslicer。　Or；　the　Sword　of　Heroes；　so　Hermes　told　me。　Yes；　it　may　be　there　too。〃
　　　Draffut　took　a　little　time　to　consider　before　he　spoke　again。　〃Would　you　be　willing　to　make　the　trip　on　the　back　of　a　large　landwalker？　I　can　influence　them；　as　you　have　already　seen。　But　they　are　somewhat　less　docile　and　dependable　than　the　flying　dragons。　Also　I　fear　that　the　journey　would　probably　take　longer　that　way；　several　days　at　least。〃
　　　〃Are　there　no　boats　to　be　had　here　in　the　swamp？　No　people　living　here　at　all？〃　Nestor　was　sure　that　there　were　at　least　a　few；　grubbing　around　in　savage　conditions。　〃If　it　es　down　to　the　choice；　I'll　try　to　carve　my　own　boat　out　of　a　log　and　paddle　it　out；　rather　than　depend　again　on　the　whim　of　any　dragon。　Regardless　of　what　spells　you　may　be　able　to　put　on　them。〃
　　　〃I　put　no　spells　on　dragons；〃　said　Draffut　almost　absently。　〃I　am　no　magician。〃
　　　〃You　spoke　of　influencing　them。。。　〃
　　　〃As　for　making　your　own　boat；　I　do　not　think　that　you　would　live　for　many　hours　in　the　swamp；　traveling　alone　in　any　boat　you　could　build　for　yourself　under　these　conditions。　And　unfortunately　I　cannot　spare　the　time　it　would　take　to　escort　you　to　safe　land　myself。　But　I　will　see　what　I　can　do　to　help　you。〃
　　　You　cannot　spare　the　time　from　what？　Nestor　wondered。　But　he　kept　the　question　to　himself；　the　giant　had　already　turned　and　was　walking　purposefully　away。　In　a　few　moments　Draffut　had　vanished　from　Nestor's　view　behind　a　screen　of　trees。　His　head　briefly　reappeared；　topping　a　screen　of　shorter　trees　in　the　middle　distance。　Then　it　sank　abruptly　below　the　treetops'　level；　as　if　he　had　stepped　into　the　swamp。
　　　Left　to　himself；　Nestor　out　of　curiosity　soon　undertook　a　more　or　less　plete　exploration　of　the　temple。　In　several　of　the　rooms　he　examined　the　carvings　on　the　walls　fairly　closely。　These　reliefs　depicted　men；　women；　and　unidentifiable　other　beings　engaged　in　what　Nestor　took　to　be　a　variety　of　ritual　activities；　it　was　difficult　to　make　out　any　details　of　what　they　were　about。
　　　In　the　room　where　Draffut　had　shown　him　the　odd　thing　he　called　a　larva；　Nestor　peered　again　into　the　tank。　The　surface　of　the　water　was　once　more　mirrorquiet。　On　the　shelf　nearby　waited　the　Old　World　lamp；　but　Nestor　made　no　move　to　take　it　down。　He　had　no　wish　to　raise　the　larva　again。
　　　He　continued　his　explorations。　He　was　in　another　large　chamber；　pondering　what　appeared　to　be　a　row　of　empty　closets；　when　his　thoughts　were　interrupted　by　a　noise。　This　was　a　sudden　outburst　of　shrill　cries；　delivered　in　an　inhuman　voice　that　sounded　as　if　it　were　somewhere　close　outside　the　temple。　Nestor　went　to　a　doorway；　sword　in　hand；　and　cautiously　peered　out。
　　　A　flying　dragon　was　hovering　nearby；　above　the　courtyard。　Somewhat　smaller　than　the　one　that　had　earlier　kidnapped　Nestor；　it　looked　at　him　but　kept　its　distance。　It　circled　a　few　more　times；　hovered　some　more；　and　shrilled　at　him。　It　was　almost　as　if；　he　thought　fancifully；　the　beast　had　something　it　was　trying　to　municate。
　　　It　kept　on　making　noise　until　Nestor　at　last　spoke　to　it；　as　a　man　alone　speaks　to　a　thing　or　an　animal；　not　expecting　understanding。　〃If　it's　Draffut　you're　looking　for；　he's　not　here。　He　stalked　off　into　the　swamp；　to　the　southwest；　more　than　an　hour　ago。　No　telling　when　he'll　be　back。〃
　　　To　Nestor's　considerable　surprise　…　after　years　of　dealing　with　dragons；　he　considered　their　intelligence　to　be　about　on　a　par　with　that　of　barnyard　fowl　…　the　creature　reacted　as　if　it　had　in　fact　understood　him。　These　flying　creatures　must　indeed　be　a　subspecies　he　had　never　heard　of。　At　least　it　ceased　its　noise　and　flew　away　at　once。　Whether　it　really　headed　southwest　Nestor　could　not　tell；　but　it　flapped　its　way　around　the　bulk　of　the　temple　and　might　have　gone　in　that　direction。
　　　Nestor；　shaking　his　head；　went　slowly　back　inside　the　building；　intending　to　explore　some　more。　Looking　around　the　place　gave　him　something　to　do　while　he　waited　for　Draffut；　and　the　more　he　knew　about　his　immediate　environment　the　more　secure　he　felt。　On　the　ground　level　he　discovered　one　large　chamber　whose　floor　was　padded　with　heaps　of　fronds　and　springy　vines；　he　wondered　if　this　was　the　place　where　Draffut　rested。　Everyone　agreed　that　gods　could　eat；　but　did　they　have　to　rest？
　　　Pondering；　or　trying　to　ponder；　the　mysteries　of　Draffut；　and　of　the　multiple　swords　of　magic；　and　of　what　the　god…game　might　be；　Nestor　made　his　way　outside　again。　This　time　he　exited　through　the　place　where　a　wall　had　tumbled；　to　emerge　on　a　slope　leading　to　an　upper　level　of　the　temple。　He　climbed　across　a　high　ruined　section　that　was　littered　with　tilted　slabs　of　fallen　roof。　From　here　it　was　possible　to　see　above　the　island's　treetops；　or　most　of　them；　but　there　was　apparently　nothing　but　more　swamp　and　trees　beyond。
　　　The　morning　sun　had　climbed；　but　it　was　not　yet　too　hot　to　make　it　unfortable　to　stretch　out　on　a　fallen　slab　of　roof　and　bask。　Relaxation　sometimes　helped　a　man　to　think。
　　　But　soon；　instead　of　concentrating　on　the　intriguing　questions　that　had　arisen；　Nestor　was　almost　dozing。　In　his　thoughts　images　came　and　went；　pictures　of　Draffut　and　the　swords。　Then　Barbara　and　the　imagined　gods。　Somehow；　thought　Nestor；　the　world　ought　to　fit　together；　and　basically　make　sense。　People　always　hoped　it　would。　But；　as　far　as　he　knew；　the　human　race　had　never　been　given　any　such　guarantee。。。
　　　He　was　almost　asleep　when　a　faint　sound　caught　at　his　attention。　A　light　tap　first；　like　a　cautious　footfall；　and　then　a　small　scraping　or　sliding　sound。　It　was　repeated；　tap　and　slide；　tap　and　slide。　Nestor　listened；　heard　the　sound　no　more；　and　went　briefly　back　to　his　dozing　thoughts。
　　　Then　it　came　again：　tap…slide。　Tap…slide。　Almost　like　footsteps。　But　limping　footsteps。　Almost　like。。。
He　leaped　up；　just　as　a　shadow　fell　across　him。　And　he　snatched　up　the　sword　barely　in　time　to　parry　the　first　blow　of　the　crude　barbed　hook。
Chapter　12
　　　First　Mark　was　moving　through　a　world　of　dreams；　then　he　was　not。　The　vision　of　many　swords　was　gone；　but　now　he　was　not　at　all　sure　at　just　what　point　the　transition　from　sleep　to　waking　life　had　taken　place。
　　　His　eyes　opened　to　a　view　of　a　ceiling　of　vaulted　stone。　Quickly　raising　himself　on　one　elbow；　he　could　see　that　he　was　for　the　first　time　in　his　life　inside　a　real　castle。　This　large　and　richly　furnished　room　could　be　part　of　nothing　else。　And　he　was　lying　in　a　real　bed；　with　sunlight　that　had　a　morning　feeling　to　it　ing　in　through　the　room's　single　narrow　window。
　　　On　a　table　in　the　center　of　the　room；　the　Sword　of　Heroes　rested　…　Mark　could　make　out　the　small　white　dragon　in　the　decoration　on　the　black　hilt。　Lying　on　the　bare　wood　beside　the　weapon　were　the　belt　and　the　scabbard　that　had　been　given　to　Mark　…　last　night？　…　along　with　a　different　sword。
　　　Sharp　as　a　dagger's　stroke；　the　memory　returned　now　of　his　father's　face；　bearded　as　Mark　had　never　seen　it　before；　but　unmistakable。　The　smiling　kindness；　the　look　of　recognition　in　the　eyes。　That　face　in　the　Maze　of　Mirth　had　been　so　real。。。
　　　On　a　small　lounge　beside　the　single　bed；　Barbara　was　sleeping。　She　appeared　to　be　wearing　her　ordinary　clothes；　but　a　rich　shawl　had　been　thrown　over　her。　It　was　as　if　she　had　been　watching　over　Mark　and　had　fallen　asleep；　and　then　perhaps　some　other　watcher　had　covered　her　for　warmth。　And　now　Mark　saw　where　his　own　clothes　were　draped　over　another　chair；　with　a　set　of　much　handsomer　garments　beside　them。　Was　the　finery　meant　for　him？　He'd　never　worn　such　things。
　　　A　familiar　snore　disturbed　the　air；　making　Mark　turn　his　head。　In　a　far　corner　of　the　room；　almost　lost　behind　more　furniture；　Ben　lay　snoring　on　a　heap　of　fancy　pillows。　He　too　was　covered　with　a　rich；　unfamiliar　robe。
　　　As　soon　as　Mark　sat　up　straight　in　bed；　Barbara　stirred　too。　She　opened　dark　eyes　and　looked　at　him　for　a　moment　without　prehension。　Then；　wide　awake　in　another　instant；　she　smiled　at　him。　Then　she　had　thrown　the　shawl　aside　and　was　standing　beside　the　bed　to　feel　Mark's　head　for　fever。　She　asked：　〃Are　you　all　right？〃
　　　〃I　think　so。　What　happened？　Who　brought　us　into　the　castle？　I　remember　there　was　a　fight。。。　〃
　　　〃And　you　fell　over。　Then　Sir　Andrew　had　us　all　brought　in。　Ben　and　I　have　told　him　just　about　everything。　We　were