tw.togreenangeltower2-第153部分
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as gray as ashes and his sides were heaving。 He looked like a drowning man before he sinks the last time。 What strength did it take him to do what he had done？ Nearly all； it seemed。
〃Miriamele turned and called to him to cross； but he only lifted his hand and sat back。 He could barely speak。 'Go on；' he said。 'You are not safe yet。 That was all I had。' He smiled…smiled； Isgrimnur！…and said： 'I am not the man I was。'
'The princess cursed him and cursed him； but more rock was tumbling free； and Binabik and I shouted that there was nothing to be done； that if Cadrach could not； he could not。 Miriamele looked down at Simon； then back at the monk。 At last she said something I could not hear； then reached down for Simon's feet。 As we hurried down the stairwell； I looked back and saw Cadrach sitting beside the broken edge； and the light from the gray sky shone on him through the broken wall。 His eyes were closed。 He might have been praying； or just waiting。
〃We went down another flight； and then Simon was fighting to be let free。 We set him down； since we could not carry him against his will…he is quite strong！…but neither could we wait to see if his wits were about him。 Binabik pulled at his wrist； talking to him all the while； and he stumbled along with us。
〃Dust was so thick from crumbling stone that I could barely breathe； and now there was fire； too； a blaze which had burned away one of the inner doors and was filling the stairwell with smoke。 Beyond the windows we could see other pieces of the tower's upper stories topple past。 Simon pointed to one of the windows and shouted we must go there。 We thought he was addled； but he grabbed Miriamele and dragged her toward it。
〃He was not addled； or at least in this he was not； for outside the window was a porch of stone…perhaps it has some drylander name…and beyond it the edge of a wall。 It was still a long drop to the ground； but the wall was not far away； only a little farther than I am tall。 But the tower was shaking itself to pieces； and we almost fell from the porch。 More pieces were dropping。 Simon suddenly bent down and grabbed at Binabik； said something to him…then flung him through the air！ I was astonished！ The troll landed on the edge of the wall； slipped a little on the snow； but held his balance。 Miriamele went next； jumping without help； Binabik kept her from sliding off when she landed。 Then Simon urged me； and I held my breath and jumped。 I would have fallen if the other two had not been waiting； because the stone porch had begun to tip downward as I went； and I almost did not leap far enough。
〃Now Simon stood； trying to find his balance； and Miriamele was screaming at him to hurry； hurry； and Binabik was shouting； too。 Simon leaped and landed； and as he did； most of the porch dropped away； crashing into the snow beneath。 We all three caught at him and pulled him to safety before he toppled off the wall。
〃A few moments later the entire tower collapsed in on itself with a noise like nothing I have ever heard； louder than any thunderstorm 。。。 but you heard it。 You know。 Pieces of stone bigger than this tent smashed past us； but none hit the wall。 Most of the tower fell inward； and a cloud of dust and snow and streaming smoke rose up as high as the tower had reached； then spread out across the castle grounds。〃 '：
Tiamak took a deep breath。 〃We stood for a long time staring。 It was as though I watched a god die。 I learned later what Miriamele and the others had seen in the towertop； and that must have been stranger still。 When we could think of moving again； Simon led us down through the throne room； past that astounding chair of bones； and out to meet you and the rest。 I thanked my Wran deities that the fighting was all but over…I could not have lifted a hand if a Norn had put a knife to my neck。〃 He sat for a while； shaking his head。 Isgrimnur cleared his throat。 〃So nothing could have survived； then。 Even if Josua or Camaris lived until the end； they would have been crushed。〃
〃We will never know from what remains in that rubble；〃 Tiamak said。 〃I cannot think we could recognize 。。。〃 He remembered Isorn。 〃Oh； Isgrimnur； please； please forgive me。 I forgot。〃
Isgrimnur shook his head。 〃The doors to the antechamber came open a short while before the end…I suppose Pryrates' dying put an end to his deviltry； his magical wall or whatever it was。 Some of the soldiers nearby pulled out those of the fallen they could before the tower began to collapse。 I； at least； have my son's body。〃 He looked down； struggling for posure； then sighed。 〃Thank you； Tiamak。 I am sorry to make you remember。〃
Tiamak laughed shakily。 〃I have not been able to stop talking about it。 We are all of us in this camp babbling away at each other like children； and have been since the tower fell； since 。 。。 since everything happened。〃
The duke stood； slowly and painfully。 〃I see Strangyeard ing。 The others will meet us。 Will you e along； Tiamak？ These are important matters； and I would like you to be with us when we talk。 We need you wisdom。〃
The Wrannaman gently bowed his head。 〃Of course； Isgrimnur。 Of course。〃
Simon wandered through the rubble of the Inner Bailey The melting snow had shrunk away to reveal patches of dead grass； and here and there a freshet of new plant lift which the sorcerous winter had not destroyed。 The different hues of green and brown were soothing to his eyes He had seen enough of black； ice…white； and blood…red to last him several lifetimes。
He only wished that everything followed such ordinary patterns of renewal。 It was a short two days since the tower had fallen and the Storm King had been vanquished； a time when he and his friends should have been rejoicing over their victory； yet here he was； wandering and brooding。
He had slept through the night and the first day after their escape； a thick； bone…weary slumber。 Binabik had e to him the second night； telling him stories； explaining； miserating； then finally sitting with him in silence until Simon fell asleep once more。 Others had visited him throughout the morning of this second day； friends and acquaintances reaching out； proving to themselves that he lived； just as the sight of these visitors showed Simon that the world still made a kind of sense。
But Miriamele had not e。
When the unclouded sun had begun to slide down past noon； he had nerved himself to go and see her。 Binabik had assured him the night before that she lived and was not badly hurt； so he did not fear for her health； but the troll's reassurances had only made his other unhappiness stronger。 If she was well； why had she not e to him or sent a message？
He had found her at her tent； in conversation with Aditu； who earlier that morning had been one of his own visitors。 Miriamele had greeted him in a friendly enough fashion； and had exclaimed sorrowfully over his various wounds； as he had over hers； but when he expressed his sadness over the deaths of her uncle and father； she had suddenly grown cold and remote。
Simon wanted to believe it was no more than the justifiable bitterness of someone who had lived through a terrible time and had lost her family…not to mention her own unhappy role in her father's death…but he could not fool himself that there was nothing more to her reaction than that。 She had been reacting to him； too； as though something about Simon still made her dreadfully unfortable。 It made him miserable to see that distance in her eyes after all they had been through together； but he had also felt fury； wondering why he should be treated as though it had been his cruelty to her that had marred their trip into Erkynland； instead of the other way around。 Although he had struggled to hide this anger； things had only grown chillier between them； and at last he had excused himself and gone out into the wind。
Into the wind and up the hill he had gone； to wander now through the slushy grounds of the abandoned Hayholt。
Simon paused； staring at the great pile of spread rubble that had once been Green Angel Tower。 Small figures moved in the ruins； Erchester…folk scavenging for anything worth saving； either to trade for food or as a keepsake of what was already a fabled event。
It was strange； Simon reflected。 He had gone as deep into the earth as anyone could； and had climbed equally as high； but he had not changed very much。 He was a little stronger； perhaps； but he guessed that was a strength mostly caused by the inflexibility of scarred places； other than that； he was much the same。 A kitchen boy； Pryrates had called him。 The priest had been right。 Despite his knighthood； despite all else that had happened； there would always be the heart of a scullion inside him。
Something caught his eye and he bent forward。 A green hand lay at the bottom of the gulley beside his feet； fingers protruding from the mud in a frozen gesture of release。 Simon leaned forward and scraped away some of the soggy clay； exposing an arm； then finally a bronze face。
It was the angel of the towertop； fallen to the earth。 He poured a handful of puddle water over the high…boned face； clearing the eyes。 They were open； but
