df.therunelords-第59部分

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me　jobs　you　should　not　leave　to　lesser　men。〃
　　
　Chapter　20
　A　PRINCE　UNMASKED
　　
　〃Och；　orders　is　orders！　His　Lor'ship　tol'　me　to　put　the　King　and　his　girl　on　proper　'orseseven　if　I　had　to　tie　'em　in　the　saddle！　The　wagon's　too　slow　on　such　a　long　march；　thru　them　woods；〃　Gaborn　said；　affecting　a　Fleeds　accent。
　The　finest　horsemen　came　from　Fleeds；　and　he　wanted　to　play　the　part　of　a　trusted　stableboy。
　Gaborn　sat　atop　his　stallion；　gazing　down　at　the　captain　in　the　Dedicates'　Keep。　The　guards　had　raised　the　portcullis；　and　busily　filled　a　great　covered　wain　with　Dedicates　gained　here　at　Castle　Sylvarrestathose　who　acted　as　vectors　for　Raj　Ahten；　including　King　Sylvarresta。
　〃He　say　to　me　none　of　thees！〃　the　captain　said　in　his　thick　Taifan　accent；　glancing　about　nervously。　His　men　had　abandoned　their　posts　to　raid　the　kitchens　for　provisions。　Some　officers　looted　Sylvarresta's　treasury；　and　others　down　on　Market　Street　were　breaking　shopwindows。　Every　moment　the　captain　spent　talking　to　Gaborn　meant　the　captain　would　have　less　time　to　stuff　his　own　pockets。
　〃Aye；　what　do　I　know？〃　Gaborn　asked。
　Gaborn　turned　to　leave；　nudging　his　mount　with　his　heels；　pulling　around　the　four　horses　he　had　on　his　lines。　It　was　a　delicate　moment。　Gaborn's　mount　grew　skittish；　laid　its　ears　back；　rolled　its　eyes。　Several　soldiers　hurried　into　the　Dedicates'　Keep；　to　help　loot　the　treasury。　Gaborn's　stallion　flinched　at　each　soldier　who　crowded　past；　ventured　a　small　kick　at　one　man。　One　of　the　tethered　stallions　responded　to　the　sudden　move　by　bucking。　Gaborn　whispered　soothing　words　to　keep　the　whole　bunch　from　bolting。
　In　the　last　few　minutes；　the　streets　had　suddenly　e　alive　with　peoplea　mob　of　Raj　Ahten's　men　sprinted　to　the　armory　to　grab　supplies；　weapons；　horses；　merchants　rushed　hither　and　thither　to　protect　what　they　had　from　looters。
　〃Halt！〃　the　captain　of　the　guard　said　before　Gaborn　got　the　horses　turned。　〃I　put　King　on　horse。　Which　one　ees　for　him？〃
　Gaborn　rolled　his　eyes；　as　if　the　answer　were　obvious。　If　he'd　truly　been　a　stablehand；　he'd　have　known　which　mount　would　remain　calmest；　which　horse　would　try　to　keep　the　idiot　king　from　falling。　As　it　was；　he　feared　that　all　five　horses　might　bolt　at　any　second。　His　own　horse；　the　stallion　he'd　ridden　into　town　the　day　before；　had　been　trained　to　recognize　the　Wolf　Lord's　soldiers　by　their　coat　of　arms；　and　to　lash　out　against　them　with　hoof　and　tooth。　Surrounded　by　the　Wolf　Lord's　troops；　his　stallion　tossed　its　head　from　side　to　side；　shifting　its　weight　uneasily。　Unsure。　His　mood　unnerved　the　other　horses。
　〃Och；　today；　who　knows？〃　Gaborn　said。　〃I　smell　a　likely　storm。　They're　all　a　wee　skittish。〃
　He　looked　at　the　horses。　In　truth；　two　mounts　seemed　less　concerned　by　the　motion。
　〃Prop　the　King　on　Uprising；　and　here's　to　hopin'　he　don't　fall！〃　Gaborn　patted　a　roan　mount；　inventing　the　horse's　name　on　the　spur　of　the　moment。　〃The　Princess；　she　sits　on　his　sister　'ere；　Retribution。　Their　Days　can　ride　the　skittish　horses　and　plummet　to　their　asses　for　all　I　care。　Oh；　and　watch　that　girth　strap　on　the　King's　saddle。　It　wiggles　loose。　Oh；　and　Death　Knell　there；　put　her　last　in　your　line。　She　kicks。〃
　Gaborn　handed　the　lines　to　the　captain；　giving　him　the　reins　to　all　four　mounts；　and　turned　to　leave。
　〃Wait！〃　the　captain　said；　as　Gaborn　suspected　he　would。
　Gaborn　craned　his　neck；　sat　with　a　bored　expression。
　〃You　geet　King　on　horse！　Everyone　on　horse。　I　want　you　personal　to　geet　them　down　through　gates。〃
　〃I'm　busy！〃　Gaborn　objected。　Sometimes　the　best　way　to　secure　a　job　was　to　pretend　you　did　not　want　it。　〃I'm　wanting　to　watch　the　soldiers　leave。〃
　〃Now！〃　the　captain　shouted。
　Gaborn　shrugged；　urged　the　horses　through　the　portcullis；　into　the　bailey　of　the　Dedicates'　Keep；　near　the　huge　wain。
　No　one　had　yet　managed　to　bring　the　draft　horses　to　pull　the　wain；　so　the　wagon　merely　sat；　its　axletree　lying　on　the　ground。
　Gaborn　looked　into　the　wagon；　tried　not　to　stare　too　hard　at　Iome。　He　wiped　sweat　from　his　forehead　with　the　back　of　a　sleeve；　then　got　off　his　horse；　helped　Iome　mount。　He　had　no　idea　whether　she　could　ride；　felt　relieved　when　she　sat　lightly　atop　her　mare；　took　the　reins　confidently。
　The　drooling　King　was　another　matter。　His　eyes　grew　frightened　and　he　hooted　and　grasped　the　horse's　neck　with　both　hands　as　soon　as　Gaborn　got　him　saddled；　then　tried　to　slide　off。　Though　the　King　had　once　been　a　fine　horseman；　he　gave　no　evidence　of　it　now。　Gaborn　realized　he　would；　quite　literally；　have　to　tie　the　man　to　the　pommel。
　So　Gaborn　used　one　of　his　lead　ropes　and　did　just　that；　wrapping　the　rope　around　the　King's　waist　twice；　then　tying　him　to　the　pommel　in　front；　and　to　the　hitches　for　the　saddlebags　in　the　rear。
　Gaborn's　heart　pounded。　He　was　taking　an　insane　risk：　Iome　could　ride；　but　the　King　would　pose　a　definite　problem。
　Gaborn　planned　to　take　the　King　and　Iome　through　the　city　gates；　then　gallop　for　the　woods；　where　Orden's　forces　could　protect　him。　Gaborn　hoped　that　none　of　the　enemy　archers　would　dare　shoot　the　King。　As　a　vector；　he　was　too　valuable　to　Raj　Ahten。
　Gaborn　most　feared　that　Raj　Ahten's　forces　might　lead　a　mounted　pursuit。
　Fortunately；　the　King's　horse　seemed　more　intrigued　by　the　King's　whooping　and　grasping　antics　than　frightened。　After　Gaborn　tied　the　King　securely　into　his　saddle；　Sylvarresta　became　more　interested　in　petting　the　mount　and　kissing　its　neck　than　in　trying　to　unhorse　himself。
　Raj　Ahten　bent　over　the　bloodstained　ground；　sniffing　Gaborn's　scent　in　the　birch　grove。　On　the　ridge　above　stood　his　counselors　and　two　guards；　illuminated　by　the　noon　sun。
　But　here　in　the　shaded　forest；　Raj　Ahten　searched　alone；　as　only　he　could。
　〃That's　the　spot；〃　one　of　his　captains　called。
　But　the　ground　held　only　the　odor　of　mold　and　humus；　desiccated　leaves。　Ash　had　rained　down　from　the　fires　that　incinerated　the　wizard's　garden；　fouling　the　scent。　Of　course　the　tang　of　a　soldier's　blood　filled　the　air。
　The　Prince　had　passed　through　the　herbalist's　garden；　so　that　his　natural　scent　lay　masked　under　layers　of　rosemary；　jasmine；　grasses；　and　other　rich　fragrances。　Raj　Ahten's　own　men　had　tramped　here　by　the　dozens　last　night；　further　fouling　the　trail。
　The　more　he　tasted　the　air；　the　more　elusive　the　scent　seemed。
　But　none　of　his　hunting　dogs　could　track　as　well　as　Raj　Ahten　did。　So　the　Wolf　Lord　knelt　in　the　loam；　sniffing　tenderly；　dismissing　some　scents；　seeking　for　that　which　was　Gaborn。　He　crawled　forward；　searching　for　a　vestige　of　Gaborn　among　the　trees。　Perhaps　the　young　man　had　brushed　a　vine　maple；　or　touched　the　bole　of　an　alder。　If　he　had；　his　scent　would　cling　to　the　spot。
　Raj　Ahten　found　no　scent　near　the　blood；　but　found　something　nearly　as　interesting：　the　earthy　musk　of　a　young　woman；　a　maid　who　worked　the　kitchens。　Odd　that　none　of　his　hunters　had　mentioned　the　scent。　It　might　be　nothing；　or　it　might　be　a　woman　who　acpanied　the　Prince。
　Raj　Ahten　suddenly　stood　upright；　startled。　A　half…dozen　finches　in　a　nearby　tree　took　flight　at　the　movement。　Raj　Ahten　listened　to　a　soft　wind　blow　through　the　trees。　He　recognized　the　girl's　scent；　had　smelled　it
　This　morning。
　He'd　passed　her　on　Market　Street；　just　outside　the　King's　Keep。
　Raj　Ahten　had　endowments　of　wit　from　over　a　thousand　men。　He　recalled　every　beat　of　his　heart；　remembered　every　word　ever　uttered　to　him。　He　visualized　the　woman　now；　at　least　the　back　of　her　head。　A　shapely　young　thing；　in　a　hooded　robe。　Her　long　hair　a　deep　brunette。　She'd　been　next　to　a　statue　of　gray　stone。　Once　again；　he　felt　an　odd　sensationa　peculiar　muzziness　of　thought。
　Butno；　he　suddenly　realized。　It　could　not　have　been　a　statue。　The　thing　had　moved。　Yet　when　he'd　passed　it；　he'd　had　the　impression　of　stone。
　He　tried　to　recall　the　statue's　face；　to　imagine　the　thing　he'd　passed　as　living　flesh。　But　he　could　not　see　it；　could　not　visualize　it。　A　statue　of　a　boya　faceless；　plain…looking　lad　in　a　dirty　robe。
　They'd　stood　in　the　streets　near　where　his　pyromancer　had　been　murdered。
　But　wait；　Raj　Ahten　had　it　nowthe　scent。　He　recalled　their　smell。　Held　it　in　his　mind。　Yes；　it　was　here　in　the　woods。　And　he'd　smelled　it　at　the　stable。　The　young　man　Raj　Ahten　had　seen　at　the　stable；　minutes　ago。
　Raj　Ahten　could　remember　everything　he'd　seen　in　years。　Now　he　tried　to　dredge　up　the　lad's　face；　to　see　him　there　in　the　stables。
　Instead；　he　saw　the　image　of　a　tree：　a　great　tree　in　the　heart　of　the　wood　at　dusk；　so　vast　that　its　swaying　branches　seemed　to　reach　up　and　capture　the　stars。
　It　was　so　peaceful　under　that　tree；　watching　it；　that　Raj　Ahten　raised　his　hands；　felt　the　warmth　of　the　starlight　touching　his　own　hands；　penetrating　them。
　He　longed　to　be　that　tree；　swaying　in　the　wind。　Unmoved；　unmovable。　Nothing　more　than　trunk　and　roots；　reaching　deep　into　the　soil；　tendrils　of　root　tickled　by　the　passing　of　countless　worms。　Breathing　deep。　The　birds　soaring　through　his　limbs；　nesting　in　the　crooks　of　branches；　pecking　at　grubs　and　mites　that　hid　in　the　folds　of　his　bark。
　Raj　Ahten　stood；　breath　suspended；　among　the　trees　of　the　forest；　looking　down　on　his　smaller　brothers；　tasting　the　wind　that　mea