tw.togreenangeltower2-第55部分
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hem with the twin torches and they danced back。 She was close enough now to touch Qantaqa; but felt no urge to do so: the wolf was hard at work; moving swiftly in the confined space; breaking necks and tearing small bodies。
〃Binabik!〃 she cried。 〃Simon! I'm here! e toward the light!〃
Her call brought another cluster of the cluttering terrors toward her。 She hit two with her torch; but the second almost pulled the brand from her grasp before it fell to the earth; squealing。 A moment later she saw a shadow above her and jumped back; raising the torch again。
〃It is me; Princess;〃 Binabik gasped。 He had climbed up onto Sea…Arrow's railing。 He stooped for a moment and vanished; then reemerged; only his eyes clearly visible in the blood and earth that smeared his face。 He thrust the butt of a long spear down for her to grasp。 'Take this。 Do not let them bee close!〃
She grasped the spear; then was forced to turn and sweep a half dozen of the things against the barrow wall。 She dropped one of the torches。 As she bent; another of the shriveled creatures pranced toward her; she speared it as a fisherman might。 It wriggled on the spearhead; slow to die。
〃Simon!〃 she shouted。 〃Where is he?〃 She picked up the second torch and held it toward Binabik; who had ducked down into the boat once more; and now stood with an ax clutched in his hands; a weapon nearly as long as the troll was tall。
〃I cannot be holding the torch;〃 Binabik said breathlessly。 〃Push it into the wall。〃 He raised the ax over his head and then jumped down beside her。
Miriamele did as he said; jamming the butt of the torch into the crumbling earth。
〃Hinik Aia!〃 Binabik shouted。 Qantaqa backed up; but the wolf seemed reluctant to disengage; she made several snarling rushes back toward the chirping creatures。 While she was engaged on one such sortie; another swarm of the things scurried around her。 Binabik swept several into bloody ruin with the ax and Miriamele fended off others with jabs of the spear。 Qantaqa finished her engagement and swept in to finish off the raiding party。 The rest of the crowding creatures sputtered angrily; their white eyes gleaming like a hundred tiny moons; but they did not seem anxious to follow Miriamele and her panions as they backed toward the hole。
〃Where is Simon?〃 she asked again。 Even as she spoke; she knew she did not want to hear the answer。 There was a kind of cold nothingness inside her。 Binabik would not leave Simon behind if he still lived。
〃I am not knowing;〃 Binabik said harshly。 〃But he is beyond our power for helping。 Lead us into the air。〃
Miriamele pulled herself up and through the hole in the mound。 She emerged from the darkness into the violet of evening and a chilly wind。 When she turned to extend the spear's haft down into the barrow for Binabik to clasp; she saw the creatures capering in impotent anger around the base of Sea…Arrow; their shadows made long and even more grotesque by torchlight。 Just before Binabik's shoulders rose to block the hole; she caught a momentary glimpse of her grandfather's pale; serene face。
The troll huddled before the paltry fire; his face a soiled mask of loss。 Miriamele tried to find her own pain and could not。 She felt empty; scoured of feeling。 Qantaqa; reclining nearby; cocked her head to one side as if puzzled by the silence。 Her chops were sticky with gore。
〃He was falling through;〃 Binabik said slowly。 〃One moment he was before me; then he was gone。 I was digging and digging; but there was only dirt。〃 He shook his head。 〃Digging and digging。 Then the boghanik came。〃 He coughed and spat a glob of mud onto the fire。 〃So many they were; up from the dirt like worms。 And more were ing always。 More and more。〃
〃You said it was a tunnel。 Maybe there were other tunnels。〃 Miriamele heard the unreal calmness of her voice with wonder。 〃Maybe he just fell through into another tunnel。 When those things; those …。。 diggers 。。。 go away; we can search。〃
〃Yes; with certainty。〃 Binabik's voice was flat。
〃We'll find him。 You'll see。〃
The troll ran his hand across his face and brought it away smeared with dirt and blood。 He stared at it absently。
〃There's water in the skin bag;〃 she said。 〃Let me clean those cuts。〃
〃You are also bleeding。〃 Binabik pointed a stubby black finger at her face。
〃I'll get the water。〃 She stood on shaky legs; 〃We'll find Simon。 You'll see。〃
Binabik did not reply。 As Miriamele walked unsteadily toward their packs; she reached up to dab at her jaw; at the spot where the digger's claws had raked her。 The blood was almost dry; but when she touched her cheeks; they were wet with tears…tears that she had not even known she was crying。
He's gone; she thought。 Gone。
Her eyes blurred so that she almost stumbled。
Elias; High King of Osten Ard; stood at the window and stared up at the pale; looming finger of Green Angel Tower; silvered by moonlight。 Wrapped in silence and secrecy; it seemed a specter sent from another world; a bearer of strange tidings。 Elias watched it as a man who knows he will live and die a sailor watches the sea。
The king's chamber was as disorderly as an animal nest。 The bed in the middle of me room was naked but for the sweat…stained pallet; the few blankets that remained lay tangled on the floor; unused; home now to whatever small creatures could bear the chilly air that Elias found more a necessity than a fort。
The window at which the king stood; like all the other windows of the long chamber; was flung wide。 Rainwater was puddled on the stone tiles beneath the casements; on some particularly cold nights it froze; making streaks of white across the floor。 The wind had also carried in leaves and stems and even the stiffened corpse of a sparrow。
Elias watched the tower until the moon haloed the angel's silhouette atop the spire。 At last he turned; pulling his tattered robe about him; his white skin showing through the gaps where the threads had rotted in their seams。
〃Hengfisk;〃 he whispered。 〃My cup。〃
What had seemed another clump of bedding wadded in the corner of the room now unfurled itself and stood。 The silent monk scurried to a table just inside the chamber door and uncapped a stone ewer。 He filled a goblet with dark; steaming liquid; then brought it to the king。 The monk's ever…present smile; perhaps a little less wide than usual; glimmered faintly in the dark room。
〃I shall not sleep again tonight;〃 the king said。 〃It is the dreams; you know。〃
Hengfisk stood silently; but his bulging eyes offered plete attention。
〃And there is something else。 Something I can feel but cannot understand。〃 He took hts goblet and returned to the window。 The hilt of the gray sword Sorrow scraped against the stone sill。 Elias had not taken it off in a long time; even to sleep; the blade had pressed its own shape into the pallet beside the indentation of the king's form。
Elias raised his cup to his lips; swallowed; then sighed。 〃There is a change in the music;〃 he said quietly。 〃The great music of the dark。 Pryrates has said nothing; but I know。 I do not need that eunuch to tell me everything。 I can see things now; hear things。。。 smell things。〃 He wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his robe; leaving a new smear of black among the countless others already dried on the cloth。 〃Somebody has changed things。〃 He paused for a long moment。 〃But perhaps Pryrates isn't merely hiding it from me。〃 The king turned to regard his cupbearer with an expression that was almost sane。 〃Perhaps Pryrates himself doesn't know。 It wouldn't be the only thing he doesn't know。 I still have a few secrets of my own。〃 Elias brooded。 〃But if Pryrates doesn't realize how 。。。 how things have changed 。。。 now what might that mean; I wonder?〃 He turned back to the window; watching the tower。 〃What might that mean?〃
Hengfisk waited patiently。 Finally; Elias finished his draught and held out the cup。 The monk took it from the king's hand and returned it to the table beside the door; then moved back to his er。 He curled himself against the wall; but his head stayed up; as though he waited further instruction。
〃The tower is waiting;〃 Elias said quietly。 〃It has been waiting a long time。〃
As he leaned against the sill a wind arose and set his dark hair fluttering; then lifted some of the leaves from the floor and sent them whispering and rattling around the chamber。
〃Oh; Father 。。。〃 the king said softly。 〃God of Mercy; I wish I could sleep。〃
For a horrifying time; Simon felt himself drowning in cold; damp earth。 Every nightmare he had ever had of death and burial flooded through him as dirt filled his eyes; his nose; pinioned his arms and legs。 He clawed until he could not feel his hands at the ends of his arms; but still the choking earth surrounded him。
Then; just as abruptly as the earth had swallowed him; it seemed to vomit him out once more。 His legs; kicking like a drowning man's; were suddenly thrashing without resistance; an instant later he felt himself tumbling downward in a great avalanche of loose soil。 He landed