tw.togreenangeltower2-第77部分

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owed　interior　before　shoving　the　door　closed　again。　There　were　some　things　he　simply　could　not　force　himself　to　do：　if　the　sword　was　in　one　of　these　rooms；　it　would　have　to　remain　unrescued。
　　　　　　　One　room　that　did　not　at　first　seem　so　dreadful　held　only　a　single　small　cot；　oddly　woven　from　a　mesh　of　leather　straps。　At　first　he　thought　this　might　be　the　place　Pryrates　slept　。。。　until　he　saw　the　hole　in　the　stone　floor　and　the　stains　beneath　the　cot。　He　left　quickly；　shuddering。　He　didn't　think　he　could　spend　much　longer　in　this　place　and　keep　his　sanity。
　　　　　　　On　the　fifth　floor　of　the　priest's　storehouse　of　nightmares；　Simon　hesitated。　This　was　the　level　at　which　the　great　red　windows　were　set：　if　he　moved　from　room　to　room　with　his　torch；　it　was　quite　possible　someone　elsewhere　in　the　keep　might　notice　the　moving　flicker　of　light　in　what　should　be　an　empty　tower。　After　some　consideration；　he　set　his　torch　in　one　of　the　high　brackets　on　the　wall。　He　would　have　to　search　in　near…darkness；　Simon　realized；　but　he　had　spent　enough　time　below　ground　that　he　thought　he　might　be　better　suited　for　that　than　almost　anyone　except　a　Sitha　。。。　or　a　Norn。
　　　　　　　Only　three　chambers　opened　off　the　landing。　The　first　was　another　featureless　room　with　a　cot；　although　this　one　had　no　drain　in　the　floor。　Simon　had　no　problem　believing　that　this　was　indeed　Pryrates'　sleeping　place：　something　in　the　stark　emptiness　of　the　room　seemed　appropriate。　Simon　could　picture　the　black…eyed　priest　lying　on　his　back　staring　up　into　nothing；　plotting。　There　was　also　a　privy；　a　strangely　natural　possession　for　someone　so　unnatural。
　　　　　　　The　second　chamber　was　some　sort　of　reliquary。　The　entire　room　was　lined　with　shelves；　and　every　inch　of　shelf　space　was　taken　up　by　statues。　These　were　not　all　of　a　type；　like　the　silver　figurines　on　the　first　floor；　but　all　shapes　and　sizes；　some　that　looked　like　saint's　icons；　others　lopsided　wooden　fetishes　that　might　have　been　carved　by　children　or　lunatics。　It　was　fascinating；　in　a　way。　Had　Simon　not　felt　the　terror　of　this　strange　tower　all　around　him；　the　incredible　risk　he　was　taking　just　being　here；　he　might　have　liked　to　take　some　time　to　look　at　the　bizarre　collection。　Some　were　made　from　wax　and　had　candle　wicks　protruding　from　the　heads；　others　were　little　more　than　conglomerations　of　bones　and　mud…and　feathers；　but　each　was　recognizably　a　figure　of　some　sort；　although　many　seemed　more　animal　than　human。　But　nowhere　was　there　anything　like　a　sword。　The　eyes　of　some　of　the　images　seemed　to　follow　Simon　as　he　backed　out　again。
　　　　　　　The　last　and　largest　room　was　perhaps　the　red　priest's　study。　Here　the　great　scarlet　windows　were　most　visible；　since　they　covered　a　large　part　of　the　curved　wall；　although　with　night　sky　outside　they　were　dark。　The　room　itself　was　littered　with　scrolls　and　books　and　a　collection　of　other　objects　as　haphazardly　odd　and　dispiriting　as　anything　he　had　seen　in　any　of　the　other　chambers。　If　he　could　not　find　the　sword　here；　his　only　hope　was　the　catabs　beneath　the　tower。　The　roof　above　was　full　of　star…gazing　equipment　and　other　strange　machinery…he　had　seen　that　late　in　the　afternoon　from　one　of　Green　Angel　Tower's　narrow　windows；　Simon　doubted　there　would　be　anything　so　valuable　hidden　out　there；　but　he　would　look　anyway。　No　sense　avoiding　anything　that　might　save　him　a　trip　down　below　Hjeldin's　monument。。。
　　　　　　　The　study　was　thick　with　shadows　and　extremely　cluttered；　almost　the　entire　floor　covered　with　objects；　although　the　walls　were　curiously　empty　of　furnishings　or　anything　else。　At　the　room's　center　a　high…backed　chair　faced　away　from　the　door　toward　the　high　windows。　It　was　surrounded　by　free…standing　cabinets；　each　one　overflowing　with　parchments　and　heavy　bound　books。　The　wall　beneath　the　windows；　Simon　saw　by　the　faint　torchlight；　was　covered　in　pale；　painted　runes。
　　　　　　　He　took　a　few　steps　toward　the　wall；　then　stumbled　slightly。　Something　was　wrong：　he　felt　an　odd　tingling；　a　faintly　nauseating　unsteadiness　in　his　bones　and　his　guts。　A　moment　later；　a　hand　shot　out　from　the　darkness　of　the　chair　and　fastened　onto　his　wrist。　Simon　screamed　and　fell　down；　but　the　hand　did　not　let　go。　The　powerful　grip　was　cold　as　frost。
　　　　　　　〃What　have　we　here？〃　a　voice　said。　〃A　trespasser？〃
　　　　　　　Simon　could　not　yank　himself　free。　His　heart　sped　so　swiftly　that　he　thought　he　would　die　of　fear。　He　was　pulled　slowly　back　onto　his　feet；　then　tugged　around　the　chair　until　he　could　look　into　the　pale　face　that　gazed　at　him　from　its　shadows。　The　eyes　that　met　his　were　almost　invisible；　faint　smears　of　reflected　light　that　nevertheless　seemed　to　hold　him　just　as　strongly　as　the　bony　hand　on　his　wrist。
　　　　　　　〃What　have　we　here？〃　his　captor　repeated；　and　leaned　forward　to　stare　at　him。
　　　　　　　It　was　King　Elias。

17
An　Ember　in　the　Night　Sky

　　　　　　　Despite　the　urgency　of　his　errand　and　the　dull　ache　of　his　tailbone；　Tiamak　could　not　help　pausing　in　wonder　to　watch　the　proceedings　on　the　broad　hillside。
　　　　　　　It　occurred　to　him　that　he　had　spent　so　much　of　his　life　reading　scrolls　and　books　that　he　had　found　very　little　chance　to　experience　the　sort　of　things　about　which　they　were　written。　Except　for　his　brief　stay　in　Ansis　Pellipe　and　his　monthly　forays　to　the　Kwanitupul　market；　the　hurly…burly　of　life　had　not　intruded　much　on　his　hut　in　the　banyan　tree。　Now；　in　this　last　year；　Tiamak　had　been　caught　up　in　the　great　movements　of　mortals　and　immortals。　He　had　fought　monsters　beside　a　princess　and　a　duke。　He　had　met　and　spoken　with　one　of　the　legendary　Sithi。　He　had　seen　the　return　of　the　greatest　knight　of　the　Johannine　Age。　Now；　as　though　the　pages　of　one　of　Doctor　Morgenes'　dusty　volumes　had　taken　on　magical　life；　he　stood　beneath　cloudy　skies　watching　the　surrender　of　an　army　after　a　life　or　death　struggle　in　the　famous　Onestrine　Pass。　Surely　any　scholar　worth　his　quill　pen　would　give　everything　he　had　to　be　here。
　　　　　　　Then　why；　Tiamak　wondered；　did　he　feel　such　intense　longing　to　see　his　banyan　tree　again？
　　　　　　　I　am　as　They　Who　Watch　and　Shape　have　made　me；　he　decided。　I　am　not　a　hero；　like　Camaris　or　Josua　or　even　poor　Isgrimnur。　No；　I　belong　with　Father　Strangyeard　and　the　others　like　us…the　small；　the　quiet。　We　do　not　want　the　eyes　of　people　on　us　all　the　time；　wailing　to　see　what　we　do　next。
　　　　　　　Still；　when　he　considered　some　of　the　things　he　had　seen　and　even　done；　he　was　not　quite　sure　that　he　would　have　passed　them　up；　even　if　given　a　choice。
　　　　　　　As　long　as　I　can　keep　dodging　She　Who　Waits　to　Take　All　Back　a　while　longer；　that　is。　I　would　not　mind　having　a　family　some　day。　I　would　not　mind　a　wife　and　children　who　would　fill　the　house　with　some　laughter　when　I　am　old。
　　　　　　　But　that　would　mean　finding　a　Wran…bride；　of　course。　Even　had　he　any　taste　for　the　tall；　fish…skinned　women　of　the　drylander　cities；　he　doubted　any　of　them　would　be　eager　to　live　on　crab　soup　in　a　tree　house　in　the　marsh。
　　　　　　　Tiamak's　thoughts　were　interrupted　by　Josua's　voice。　He　started　to　move　toward　the　prince　to　deliver　his　message；　but　found　his　way　blocked　by　several　large　soldiers　who；　caught　up　as　they　were　with　the　spectacle　before　them；　seemed　in　no　hurry　to　make　room　for　the　small　man。
　　　　　　　〃I　see　you　are　here　already；〃　the　prince　said　to　someone。　The　Wrannaman　stood　on　his　tiptoes；　straining　to　see。
　　　　　　　〃Where　else　would　I　go；　Prince　Josua？〃　Varellan　rose　to　greet　the　victor。　Benigaris'　younger　brother；　even　with　cuts　and　bruises　on　his　face　and　his　arm　in　a　sling；　looked　strangely　unsuited　to　his　role　as　war…leader。　He　was　tall；　and　handsome　enough　in　a　thin；　pale　way；　but　his　eyes　were　watery　and　his　posture　apologetic。　He　looked；　Tiamak　thought；　like　a　sapling　that　had　not　received　enough　sun。
　　　　　　　Josua　faced　him。　The　prince　wore　still　a　torn　surcoat　and　battered　boots；　as　though　the　battle　had　ended　only　moments　ago　instead　of　two　full　days　before。　He　had　not　left　camp　in　that　time；　engaged　in　so　many　duties　that　Tiamak　doubted　he　had　slept　more　than　an　hour　here　or　there。　'There　is　no　need　for　shame；　Varellan；〃　Josua　said　firmly。　〃Your　men　fought　well；　and　you　did　your　duty。〃　
　　　　　　　Varellan　shook　his　head　furiously；　looking　for　a　moment　like　an　unhappy　child。　〃I　failed。　Benigaris　will　not　care　that　I　did　my　duty。〃
　　　　　　　〃You　failed　in　one　thing；〃　Josua　told　him；　〃but　your　failure　may　bring　more　good　than　you　know…although　not　much　of　it　will　e　to　your　brother。〃
　　　　　　　Camaris　stepped　up　silently　to　stand　beside　the　prince。　Varellan's　eyes　opened　wider；　as　though　his　uncle　were　some　larger…than…life　monster…as；　Tiamak　thought；　in　a　way　he　was。　〃I　cannot　be　happy　about　what　has　happened；　Prince　Josua；〃　said　Varellan　tightly。
　　　　　　　〃When　we　are　finished　with　this；　you　will　find　out　things　that　may　change　your　mind。〃
　　　　　　　Varellan　grimaced。　〃Have　I　not　heard　enough　of　such　things　already？　Very　well；　then　let　us　be　finished。　You　already　took　my　war　banner。　I　would　have　preferred　to　give　this　to　you　on　the　battlefield　as　well。〃
　　　　　　　〃You　were　wounded。〃　Josua　spoke　as　though　to　a　son。　〃There　is　no　shame　in　being　carried　off　the　field。　I　knew　your　father　well：　he　would　have　been　proud　of　you。〃
　　　　　　　〃I　wish　I　could　believe　that。〃　Varellan；　made　awk