tw.togreenangeltower2-第131部分
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n hammering at the second gate。 The metal…clad wood did not seem to give even an inch。
〃They think they have trapped Camaris；〃 Strangyeard said。 〃That is what they planned to do all along。〃
Isgrimnur turned and grabbed at the priest's robe； thrusting his face close to the smaller man's。 〃You knew？ You knew？！〃
〃Goodness； Isgrimnur； no； I didn't。 But I see it now。〃
The duke let him go and began shouting frantic orders； sending his remaining archers forward to help protect the engineers； who were receiving redoubled interest from the soldiers on the Hayholt's walls。 〃And find me that damn Sithi general！〃 he bawled。 〃The one in green！ The fairy…folk must help us knock this new wall down！〃
〃But you still must listen to me； Isgrimnur；〃 said the priest。 〃If the Sithi know of those tunnels； the Norns must； too。 The Storm King； when he lived； was master of Asu'a！〃
〃What does that mean？ Speak plainly； damn you！〃 Isgrimnur was furiously agitated。 〃My son is trapped in there with only a few men。 We must break down this new gate and go in after him。〃
〃I think you must look 。。。〃 Strangyeard began； when another round of excited shouts interrupted him。 This time； though； they came from behind Isgrimnur。
〃ing up through Erchester！〃 one of the mounted men screamed。 〃Look！ It is the White Foxes！〃
〃I think you must look behind you； I was going to say。〃 Strangyeard shook his head。 〃If we could go beneath the walls； so could they。〃
Even in near…darkness it was possible to see that the host moving up Main Row was not human。 White faces gleamed in the shadows。 White hands held long sharp spears。 Now that they had been sighted and the need for stealth was gone。 they began to sing； a triumphant chant that fell painfully on Isgrimnur's ears。
The duke allowed himself one moment of utter despair。 〃Ransomer preserve us； we have been snared like rabbits。〃 He patted the priest's shoulder in silent thanks； then strode to the middle of the platform。 〃To me； Josua's men！ To me！〃 He waved to Jeremias； calling for his horse。
The Norns came up Main Row； singing。
30
Beside the Pool
〃Up to the tree 。 。 。〃 Guthwulf mumbled。 His face beneath Simon's hand was oven…hot and slippery with sweat。 〃To the flaming tree。 Wants to go 。。。〃
The earl was getting worse； and Simon did not know what to do。 He was still badly hobbled by his own wounds； knew almost nothing of the healing arts； and in any case was in a lightless place with nothing that might be of use in easing Guthwulf's fever。 Because of a dim recollection that fevers had to burn themselves out； he had covered the suffering earl with some of the rags strewn about the floor； but he felt like a traitor putting warm things on someone who seemed to be burning up。
Helpless； he sat down beside Guthwulf once more； listening to him rave and praying that the earl would survive。 The blackness pressed in on him like the crushing depths of the ocean； making it hard to breathe； to think。 He tried to distract himself by remembering the things he had seen； the places he had been。 More than anything he wanted to do something； but at this moment there seemed to be nothing to do but wait。 He did not want to be left alone and lost in the empty places again。
Something touched his leg and Simon reached out； thinking that Guthwulf in his misery was looking for a hand to hold。 Instead； Simon's fingers trailed across something warm and covered with fur。 He let out a shout of surprise and scrabbled back； expecting momentarily to feel rats or something worse swarming over him。 When there was no further contact he crouched； huddled into himself； for a long time。 Then his feelings of responsibility for Guthwulf won out and he edged back toward the earl。 A squeamish exploration found the furry thing again。 It shrank back as he had； but did not go far。 It was a cat。
Simon laughed breathlessly； then reached out and stroked the creature。 It arched beneath his hand； but would not e to him。 Instead it settled against the blind man and Guthwulf's movements became less agitated； his breathing quieter。 The cat's presence seemed to soothe him。 Simon； too； felt a little less alone； and resolved to be careful not to frighten the animal away。 He fetched some of the remaining heel of bread and offered a pinch to the cat； who sniffed it but did not take any。 Simon ate a few small pieces himself； then tried to find a fortable position to sleep in。
Simon awakened； abruptly conscious that something had happened。 In the darkness it was impossible to discern any changes； but he had the inescapable feeling that things had shifted somehow； that he was suddenly in an unfamiliar place with no knowledge of how he had e there。 But the rags around him were the same； and Guthwulf's labored breathing； though quieter； still rasped away nearby。 Simon crawled over to the earl； gently pushed aside the warm and purring cat； and was heartened to feel much of the cramping tension gone from the blind man's limbs。 Perhaps he was recovering from the fever。 Perhaps the cat had been his panion and its presence had restored a little of his sanity。 In any case； Guthwulf had stopped raving。 Simon let the cat clamber back into the crook of the earl's arm。 It felt strange not to hear Guthwulf's voice。
During the earliest hours of his fever； the earl had been almost lucid for short stretches； although he was so plagued by
his voices and former solitude that it was difficult to separate truth from terrifying dream。 He talked about crawling through darkness； desperate to find Bright…Nail…although； strangely； he did not seem to think of it as a sword at all； but as something alive that summoned him。 Simon remembered Thorn's disturbing vitality and thought he understood a little of what the earl meant。
It was hard to make sense out of the impressions of a half…mad blind man； but as Guthwulf spoke； Simon pictured the earl walking through the tunnels； lured by something that called to him in a voice he could not ignore。 Guthwulf had gone far beyond his usual range； it seemed； and had heard and felt many terrible things。 At last he had crawled； and when even those narrow ways were blocked； he had dug； fighting his way through the last cubits of earth that had separated him from the object of his obsession。
He dug into John's barrow； Simon realized； shuddering。 Like a blind mole after a carrot； scraping； scraping 。。。
Guthwulf had taken his prize and had somehow found his way back to his nest； but apparently even the joy of possessing the thing he had sought had not been enough to keep him in hiding。 For some reason he had ventured out； perhaps to steal food from the forge…where else had the bread and water e from？…but perhaps for some deeper； more plicated reason。
Why did he e to me？ Simon wondered。 Why would he risk being caught by Inch？ He thought again of Thorn； of how it had seemed almost to choose where it wished to go。 Maybe Bright…Nail wanted to find 。。。 me。
The thought was a frighteningly seductive one。 If Bright…Nail was being drawn to the great conflict that was ing； then maybe it somehow knew that Guthwulf would never willingly go up into the light again。 As Thorn had chosen Simon and his fellows to bring it down from Urmsheim and back to Camaris； maybe Bright…Nail had chosen Simon to carry it up to Green Angel Tower to fight the Storm King。
Another dim recollection surfaced。 In my dream； Leieth said that the sword was part of my story。 Is that what she meant？ The details were strangely misty； but he remembered the sad…faced man who had held the blade across his lap as he waited for something。 The dragon？
Simon let his fingers trail away from the cat's back and down Guthwulf's arm until they reached Bright…Nail。 The earl moaned； but did not resist as Simon gently pried his fingers away。 His finger reverently traced the rough shape of the Nail； bound just below the guard。 A nail from the Execution Tree of holy Usires！ And some sacred relic of Saint Eahlstan was sealed inside the hollow hilt； he remembered。 Prester John's sword。 It was astonishing that a onetime scullion should ever touch such a thing！
Simon curled his hand around the hilt。 It seemed to 。。。 fit。 It lay in his hand as fortably as though it had been made for him。 All other thoughts about the blade； about Guthwulf； slid away。 He sat in the dark and felt the sword to be an extension of his own arm； of himself。 He stood； ignoring his aching muscles； and slashed at the lightless void before him。 A moment later； horrified at the thought that he might accidentally strike Bright…Nail against the rock wall of the cavern and blunt its edge； he sat down again； then crawled away to his corner of the cavern and stretched out on the stone； clutching the sword to him as though it were a child。 The metal was cold where it touched his skin； and the blade was sharp； but he did not want to let it go。 Across the chamber； Guthwulf murmured unfortably。
Some time had passed； although Simon did not know whether he had slept or not； when he suddenly became aware that something was missing： he could no longer hear the earl breathing。 For a moment；
