靠谱电子书 > 经管其他电子书 > tw.togreenangeltower2 >

第23部分

tw.togreenangeltower2-第23部分

小说: tw.togreenangeltower2 字数: 每页4000字

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页,按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页,按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部!
————未阅读完?加入书签已便下次继续阅读!



ll…necked; and also carried one of the long cudgels。 As he lowered his rain…soaked hood; his squarish; balding head glinted in the lamplight。 He was older than the other two and had clever; piggy eyes。
       The hum of conversation had now reached something like its normal level once more; but as the three Fire Dancers moved slowly into the mon room they still received many covert stares。 The robed men seemed to be openly searching the room for something or somebody;
       Simon had a moment of helpless fear as the leader's dark eyes lighted on him for a moment; but the man only lifted an amused eyebrow at Simon's sword; then shifted his attention to someone else。
       Relief swept over Simon。 Whatever they wanted; it was apparently not him。 Sensing a presence at his shoulder; he turned quickly and found the inn's proprietor standing behind him with a pitted wooden platter。 The man gave Simon the mutton and bread; which Simon wrapped in his kerchief; then poured an appropriate measure of ale into the jug。 Despite the attention these tasks required; the landlord's eyes scarcely left the three newers; and his reply to Simon's courteous thanks was distracted and inplete。 Simon was glad to be going。
       As he opened the door; he caught a quick glimpse of Miriamele's pale; worried face in the shadows across the street。 A loud; mocking voice cut through the room behind him。
       〃You didn't really think that you could leave without our noticing; did you?〃
       Simon went rigid in the doorway; then slowly turned。 He had a parcel in one hand and a jug in the other; his sword hand。 Should he drop the ale and draw the blade; or make the jug useful somehow…perhaps he could throw it? Haestan had taught him a little about tavern brawls; although the guardsman's main remendation had been to avoid them。
       He pleted his pivot; expecting to confront a sea of faces and the threatening Fire Dancers; but found to his astonishment that no one was even looking in his direction。 Instead; the three robed men stood before a bench in the corner farthest from the fire。 The two seated there; a man and woman of middle years; looked up at them helplessly; faces slack with terror。
       The leader of the Fire Dancers leaned forward; bringing his catapult…stone of a head almost to the level of the tabletop; but though his position suggested discretion; his voice was pitched to carry through the room。 〃e; now。 You didn't really think that you could just walk away; did you?〃
       〃M…Maefwaru;〃 the man stuttered; 〃we; we could not 。。。 we thought that 。。。〃
       The Fire Dancer laid a thick hand on the table; silencing him。 〃That is not the loyalty that the Storm King expects。〃 He seemed to speak quietly; but Simon could hear every word from the doorway。 The rest of the room watched in sickly fascinated silence。 〃We owe Him our lives; because He has graced us with a vision of how things will be and a chance to be part of it。 You cannot turn your back on Him。〃
       The man's mouth moved; but no words came out。 His wife was equally silent; but tears ran down her face and her shoulders twitched。 This was obviously a meeting much feared。
       〃Simon!〃
       He turned to look back out the inn's door。 Miriamele was only a few paces away in the middle of the muddy road。 〃What are you doing?〃 she demanded in a loud whisper。
       〃Wait。〃
       〃Simon; there are Fire Dancers in there! Didn't you see them?!〃
       He raised his hand to stay her; then wheeled to face the interior。 The two large Fire Dancers were forcing the man and woman up from their bench; dragging the woman across the rough wood when her legs would not support her。 She was crying in earnest now; her panion; pinioned; could only stare at the ground and murmur miserably。
       Simon felt anger flame within him。 Why didn't anyone in this place help them? There must be two dozen seated here and only three Fire Dancers。
       Miriamele tugged at his sleeve。 〃Is there trouble? e; Simon; let's go!〃
       〃I can't;〃 he said; quietly but urgently。 〃They're taking those two people somewhere。〃
       〃We can't afford to be caught; Simon。 This is not a time for heroes。〃
       〃I can't just let them take those people; Miriamele。〃 He prayed that someone else in the crowded room would stand up; that some general movement of resistance would begin。 Miriamele was right: they couldn't afford to do anything foolish。 But no one did more than whisper and watch。
       Cursing himself for his stupidity; and God or Fate for putting him in this position; Simon pulled his sleeve from Miriamele's grasp and took a step back into the mon room。 He carefully set the supper parcel and jug down beside the wall; then curled his hand around the hilt of the sword Josua had given him。
       〃Stop!〃 he said loudly。
       〃Simon!〃
       Now all heads did turn toward him。 The last to swivel around was that of the leader。 Although he was only a little shorter than an average man; there was something curiously dwarflike in his large; cleft…chinned head。 His tiny eyes flicked Simon up and down。 This time there was no amusement。
       〃What? Stop; you say? Stop what?〃
       〃I don't think those people want to go with you。〃 Simon addressed the male captive; who was struggling weakly in the grip of one of the large Fire Dancers。 〃Do you?〃
       The man's eyes flicked back and forth between Simon and his chief captor。 At last。 miserably; he shook his head。 Simon knew then that what the man feared must be truly terrible; that he would risk making this situation worse in the desperate…and unlikely…hope that Simon could save him from it。
       〃You see?〃 Simon tried; with mixed results; to keep his voice firm and calm。 〃They do not wish to acpany you。 Set them free。〃 His heart was pounding。 His own words sounded curiously formal; even deliberately high…flown; as if this were a Tallistro story or some other chronicle of imaginary heroism。
       The bald man looked around the room as if to judge how many might be prepared to join Simon in resistance。 No one else was moving; the entire room seemed to share a single held breath。 The Fire Dancer turned back to Simon; a grin curling his thick lips。 〃These folk betrayed their oath to the Master。 This is no concern of yours。〃
       Simon felt an immense fury wash over him。 He had seen all the bullying he had the stomach for; from the countrywide misdeeds of the king to the precisely pointed cruelties of Pryrates。 He tightened his grip on the hilt。 〃I am making it my concern。 Take your hands from them and get out。〃
       Wthout further argument; the leader spat out a word and the follower who held the woman let her go…she slumped against the table; knocking a bowl onto the floor…and leaped toward Simon; his blunt…headed staff swinging in a wide arc。 A few people shouted in fear or excitement。 Simon was frozen for an instant; his sword only halfway out of his scabbard。
       Idiot! Mooncalf!
       He dropped to the floor and the staff whistled over his head; knocking several cloaks from the wall and being entangled in one of them。 Simon seized the moment and threw himself forward into the man's legs。 They both fell; tumbling; and Simon's sword came free of the scabbard and thumped into the floor rushes。 He had hurt his shoulder…his attacker was heavy and solidly…built…and as he disentangled himself and pulled free; the Fire Dancer managed to catch him with a cudgel blow to his leg which stung cold as a knife wound。 Simon rolled toward his lost sword and was hugely grateful when he felt it beneath his fingers。 His attacker was up and moving toward him; his cudgel darting out like a striking snake。
       From the corner of his eye; Simon could see that the second big man was ing toward him as well。
       First things first; was the inane thought that ran through his head; the same thing Rachel had always told him about doing his chores when he wanted to go climb or play a game。 He rose to a standing crouch; his sword held before him; and deflected a blow from his first attacker。 It was impossible to remember all the things he had been taught in the muddle of noise and movement and panic; but he was relieved to find that as long as he could keep his sword between himself and the Fire Dancer; he could keep the man at bay。 But what would he do when the second arrived?
       He received an answer of sorts a moment later; when a blur of movement at the edge of his vision warned him to duck。 The second man's staff whickered past and clacked against the first man's。 Simon took a step backward without turning and then whirled and swung his blade around as hard as he could。 He caught the man behind him across the arm; drawing an angry shriek。 The Fire Dancer dropped his staff and stumbled back toward the doorway; clutching his forearm。 Simon returned his attention to the man in front of him; hoping that the second man was; if not defeated; at least out of the battle for a few desperately…needed moments。 The first attacker had learned the lesson of not getting too close; and was now using the length of his club to keep Simon on the defensive。
       There was a crash from behind; Simon; startled; almost lost sight of the foe before him。 Seeing this; t

返回目录 上一页 下一页 回到顶部 0 0

你可能喜欢的