rj.theshadowrising-第222部分

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ervals　out　to　five　hundred；　beyond　that　lay　quilted　fields；　tabac　and　barley；　most　trampled　in　earlier　attacks；　and　hedges　and　low　stone　fences；　and　copses　of　leatherleaf；　pine　and　oak。
　　　　　　　So　many　faces　Perrin　knew　in　those　waiting　ranks　of　men。　Stout　Eward　Candwin　and　lantern…jawed　Paet　al'Caar　with　spears。　White…haired　Buel　Dowtry；　the　fletcher；　stood　with　the　bowmen；　of　course。　There　was　stocky；　gray…haired　Jac　al'Seen　and　his　bald　cousin　Wit；　and　gnarled　Flann　Lewin；　a　lanky　beanpole　like　all　of　his　male　kin。　Jaim　Torfinn　and　Hu　Marwin；　among　the　first　to　ride　after　him；　they　had　felt　too　unfortable　to　join　the　panions；　as　if　missing　the　ambush　in　the　Waterwood　had　opened　some　gap　between　them　and　the　others。　Elam　Dowtry；　and　Dav　Ayellin；　and　Ewin　Finngar。　Hari　Coplin　and　his　brother　Darl；　and　old　Bili　Congar。　Berin　Thane；　the　miller's　brother；　and　fat　Athan　Dearn；　and　Kevrim　al'Azar；　whose　grandsons　had　grown　sons；　and　Tuck　Padwhin；　the　carpenter；　and。。。
　　　　　　　Making　himself　stop　counting　them；　Perrin　rode　to　where　Verin　stood　beside　one　of　the　catapults　under　the　watchful　eye　of　Tomas　on　his　gray。　The　plump；　brown…clad　Aes　Sedai　studied　Aram　a　moment　before　turning　her　birdlike　gaze　up　to　Perrin；　one　eyebrow　raised　as　if　to　question　why　he　was　bothering　her。
　　　　　　　〃I　am　a　little　surprised　to　see　you　and　Alanna　still　here；〃　he　told　her。　〃Hunting　girls　who　can　learn　to　channel　can't　be　worth　getting　killed。　Or　keeping　a　string　tied　to　a　ta'veren；　either。〃
　　　　　　　〃Is　that　what　we　are　doing？〃　Folding　her　hands　at　her　waist；　she　tilted　her　head　to　one　side　thoughtfully。　〃No；〃　she　said　at　last；　〃I　do　not　think　we　could　go　quite　yet。　You　are　a　very　interesting　study；　as　much　as　Rand；　in　your　own　way。　And　young　Mat。　Could　I　only　split　myself　into　three；　I　would　latch　one　onto　each　of　you　and　follow　you　every　moment　of　the　day　and　night　even　if　I　had　to　marry　you。〃
　　　　　　　〃I　already　have　a　wife。〃　It　felt　odd；　saying　that。　Odd；　and　good。　He　had　a　wife；　and　she　was　safe。
　　　　　　　She　shattered　his　moment　of　reverie。　〃Yes；　you　do。　But　you　do　not　know　what　marrying　Zarine　Bashere　means；　do　you？〃　She　reached　up　to　turn　his　axe　in　its　loop　on　his　belt；　studying　it。　〃When　are　you　going　to　give　this　up　for　the　hammer？〃
　　　　　　　Staring　at　the　Aes　Sedai；　he　reined　Stepper　back　a　pace；　pulling　the　axe　out　of　her　hands；　before　he　knew　it。　What　marrying　Faile　meant？　Give　up　the　axe？　What　did　she　mean？　What　did　she　know？
　　　　　　　〃ISAM！〃　The　guttural　roar　rose　like　thunder；　and　Trollocs　appeared；　each　half　again　as　tall　as　a　man　and　twice　as　wide；　trotting　into　the　fields　to　halt　beyond　bowshot；　a　hulking；　black…mailed　mass；　deep　and　stretching　the　length　of　the　village。　Thousands　of　them　packed　together；　huge　faces　distorted　by　beaks　and　snouts；　heads　with　horns　or　feathered　crests；　spikes　at　elbows　and　shoulders；　scythe…curved　swords　and　spiked　axes；　hooked　spears　and　barbed　tridents；　a　seemingly　endless　sea　of　cruel　weapons。　Behind　them；　Myrddraal　galloped　up　and　down　on　midnight　horses；　raven…black　cloaks　hanging　undisturbed　as　they　whirled　their　mounts。
　　　　　　　〃ISAM！〃
　　　　　　　〃Interesting；〃　Verin　murmured。
　　　　　　　Perrin　would　not　have　thought　that　was　the　word。　This　was　the　first　time　the　Trollocs　had　shouted　anything　understandable。　Not　that　he　had　any　idea　what　it　meant。
　　　　　　　Smoothing　his　marriage　ribbon；　he　forced　himself　to　ride　calmly　to　the　center　of　the　Two　Rivers　line。　The　panions　formed　behind　him；　the　breeze　lifting　the　banner　with　its　red　wolfhead。　Aram　had　his　sword　out　in　both　hands。　〃Be　ready！〃　Perrin　called。　His　voice　was　steady；　he　could　not　believe　it。
　　　　　　　〃ISAM！〃　And　the　black　tide　rolled　forward；　howling　wordlessly。
　　　　　　　Faile　was　safe。　Nothing　else　mattered。　He　would　not　let　himself　see　the　faces　of　the　men　stretched　out　to　either　side　of　him。　He　heard　the　same　howls　drifting　from　the　south。　Both　sides　at　once。　They　had　never　tried　that　before。　Faile　was　safe。　〃At　four　hundred　paces。。。　！〃　All　along　the　ranks；　bows　rose　together。　Closer　the　howling　mass　came；　long　thick　legs　eating　ground。　Closer。　〃Loose！〃
　　　　　　　The　snap　of　bowstrings　was　lost　in　the　Trolloc　roar；　but　a　goose…fletched　hail　streaked　the　sky　as　it　arced　out；　plunged　down　into　the　black…mailed　horde。　Stones　from　the　catapults　erupted　in　fiery　balls　and　sharp　splinters　in　those　seething　ranks。　Trollocs　fell。　Perrin　saw　them　go　down；　trampled　beneath　boots　and　hooves。　Even　some　Myrddraal　fell。　Yet　the　tidal　wave　rushed　on；　closing　holes　and　gaps；　apparently　undiminished。
　　　　　　　There　was　no　need　to　order　another　volley。　A　second　followed　the　first　as　quickly　as　men　could　nock　arrows；　a　second　rain　of　broadhead　points　rising　before　the　first　dropped；　the　third　following　behind；　the　fourth；　the　fifth。　Fire　exploded　among　the　Trollocs　as　fast　as　the　catapult　arms　could　be　winched　down；　Verin　galloping　from　catapult　to　catapult　to　lean　down　from　her　saddle。　And　the　huge　bellowing　forms　came　on；　crying　in　no　language　Perrin　understood；　but　crying　for　blood；　human　blood　and　flesh。　Men　crouching　behind　the　stakes　readied　themselves；　hefting　their　weapons。
　　　　　　　Perrin　felt　cold　inside。　He　could　see　the　ground　behind　the　Trolloc　charge　already　littered　with　their　dead　and　dying；　yet　it　hardly　seemed　they　were　fewer。　Stepper　pranced　nervously；　but　he　could　not　hear　the　dun's　whicker　for　the　rolling　howls　of　Trollocs。　The　axe　came　into　his　hand　smoothly；　long　half…moon　blade　and　thick　spike　catching　the　sunlight。　Not　midday　yet。　My　heart　is　yours　forever；　Faile。　This　time；　he　did　not　think　the　stakes　would。。。
　　　　　　　Not　even　slowing；　the　front　rank　of　Trollocs　ran　onto　the　sharp　stakes；　faces　contorted　by　snouts　or　beaks　twisting　with　pained　shrieks；　howling　as　they　were　impaled；　driven　down　by　more　huge　shapes　scrambling　up　over　their　backs；　some　of　those　falling　among　the　stakes；　replaced　by　more；　always　more。　One　last　volley　of　arrows　drove　home　at　point…blank　range；　and　then　it　was　the　spears　and　halberds　and　home…made　polearms；　thrusting　and　stabbing　at　towering　forms　in　black　mail；　sometimes　falling　while　the　bowmen　shot　as　best　they　could　at　the　inhuman　faces　above　their　friends'　heads；　boys　shooting　down　from　the　rooftops　as　well；　madness　and　death　and　earsplitting　roars　and　screams　and　howls。　Slowly；　inexorably；　the　Two　Rivers　line　bulged　inward　at　a　dozen　places。　If　it　broke；　anywhere。。。
　　　　　　　〃Fall　back！〃　Perrin　bellowed。　A　boar…snouted　Trolloc；　already　bleeding；　forced　its　way　through　the　ranks　of　men；　shrieking　and　striking　with　its　thick；　curved　sword。　Perrin's　axe　split　its　head　to　the　snout。　Stepper　was　trying　to　rear；　screaming　silently　in　the　din。　〃Fall　back！〃　Darl　Coplin　went　down；　clutching　a　thigh　transfixed　by　a　wrist…thick　spear；　old　Bili　Congar　tried　to　drag　him　backward　while　awkwardly　wielding　a　boar　spear；　Hari　Coplin　swung　his　halberd　in　defense　of　his　brother；　mouth　wide　in　a　seemingly　soundless　shout。　〃Fall　back　between　the　houses！〃
　　　　　　　He　was　not　sure　whether　others　heard　and　passed　the　order；　or　the　mountainous　weight　of　Trollocs　simply　pressed　in；　but　slowly；　one　grudging　step　at　a　time；　the　humans　moved　back。　Loial　swung　his　bloodied　axes　like　mallets；　wide　mouth　snarling。　Beside　the　Ogier；　Bran　thrust　his　spear　grimly；　he　had　lost　his　steel　cap；　and　blood　ran　in　his　fringe　of　gray　hair。　From　his　stallion　Tomas　carved　a　space　around　Verin；　hair　in　wild　disarray；　she　had　lost　her　horse；　balls　of　fire　streaked　from　her　hands；　and　every　Trolloc　struck　exploded　in　flames　as　if　soaked　in　oil。　Not　enough　to　hold。　The　Two　Rivers　men　edged　back；　jostling　around　Stepper。　Gaul　and　Chiad　fought　back…to…back；　she　had　only　one　spear　left；　and　he　slashed　and　stabbed　with　his　heavy　knife。　Back。　To　west　and　east　men　had　curved　out　from　the　defenses　there　to　keep　the　Trollocs　from　flanking　them；　pouring　arrows　in。　Not　enough。　Back。
　　　　　　　Suddenly　a　huge　ram…horned　shape　was　trying　to　pull　Perrin　out　of　the　saddle；　trying　to　climb　up　after　him。　Thrashing；　Stepper　went　down　under　the　bined　weight。　Leg　pinned　and　pained　near　to　breaking；　Perrin　struggled　to　bring　his　axe　around；　to　fight　hands　bigger　than　an　Ogier's　away　from　his　throat。　The　Trolloc　screamed　as　Aram's　sword　sliced　into　its　neck。　Even　as　it　collapsed　atop　Perrin；　spraying　blood；　the　Tinker　spun　smoothly　to　run　another　Trolloc　through　the　middle。
　　　　　　　Grunting　with　pain；　Perrin　kicked　his　way　clear；　aided　by　Stepper　scrambling　to　his　feet；　but　there　was　no　time　to　think　of　remounting。　He　barely　rolled　aside　as　a　black　horse's　hooves　stamped　where　his　head　had　been。　Pale；　eyeless　face　snarling；　the　Fade　leaned　from　its　saddle　as　he　tried　to　rise；　dead…black　sword　slashing；　brushing　his　hair　as　he　dropped。　Ruthlessly　he　swung　his　axe；　chopping　one　of　the　horse's　legs　out　from　under　it。　Horse　and　rider　toppled　together；　as　they　fell；　he　buried　his　axe　where　the　Halfman's　eyes　should　have　been。
　　　　　　　He　wrenched　the　blade　free　in　time　to　see　Daise　Congar's　pitchfork　tines　take　a　goat…snouted　Trolloc　in　the　throat。　It　seized　the　long　shaft　with　one　hand；　stabbing　a　barbed　spear　at　her　with　the　other；　but　Marin　al'Vere　calmly　hamstrung　it　with　one　blow　of　her　cleaver；　the　leg　gave　way；　and　she　just　as　coolly　severed　the　Trolloc's　spine　at　the　base　of　its　neck。　Anothe