fs.thethirdbookofswords-第33部分

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　Denis；　hypnotized　by　what　he　saw；　no　longer　fully　in　control　of　his　own　actions；　crept　a　little　closer　still。　He　had　a　long　knife　at　his　own　belt　but　he　did　not　draw　it。　It　was　as　if　the　thought　never　occured　to　him　that　he　might　possibly　make　any　difference　in　the　fight　that　he　was　watching。
　Sir　Andrew's　bodyguard；　greatly　outnumbered　by　berserk　fanatics；　were　all　down　now；　their'　dead　or　dying　bodies　being　hacked　to　pieces　by　their　mad　attackers。　But　Shieldbreaker　protected　the　man　who　held　it。　It　continued　to　make　its　sound；　yet　faster　now　and　louder。　It　worked　on；　its　voice　still　dull　despite　its　blinding　speed；　its　dazzling　arc。　It　worked　efficiently；　indifferent　as　to　whom　or　what　it　struck；　indifferent　to　whatever　screams　or　words　went　up　from　those　it　disarmed　or　cut　apart；　indifferent　equally　to　whatever　weapons　might　be　plied　against　it。　Denis　saw　axe…heads；　knives；　sword…blades；　shafts　of　spears　and　arrows；　flying　everywhere；　whole　and　in　a　hail　of　fragments。　Human　limbs　and　armor　danced　bloodily　within　the　hail；　and　surely　that　bouncing；　rolling　object　had　once　been　a　head。
　The　mouth　of　the　Kind　Knight　opened　and　he　screamed；　surely　a　louder　and　more　terrible　roar　than　any　ing　from　the　folk　he　struck。　Denis；　creeping　closer　still　as　if　he　were　unable　to　help　himself；　saw　that　Sir　Andrew　was　now　covered　with　blood　from　head　to　foot。　It　was　impossible　to　tell　if　any　of　it　might　be　his　own。　But　if　he　were　wounded；　still　the　mad　vigor　of　his　movements；　energized　by　magic；　continued　unabated。
　The　Knight　roared　again；　in　greater　agony　than　before。　Denis　saw　that　Dame　Yoldi；　possessed；　a　creature　of　evil　hatred；　her　face　hideously　transformed；　was　closing　in　on　Sir　Andrew。　Her　hands　were　outspread　like　claws；　as　if　to　rend；　and　she　cried　out　desperate　spells　of　magic。　Even　Denis　the　unmagical　could　feel　the　backwash　of　their　deadly；　immaterial　power。
　To　the　Sword　of　Force　the　tools　of　magic　were　no　more　than　any　other　weapons。　They　were　dissolved　and　broken　against　that　gleaming　curve　almost　invisible　with　speed；　that　brutal　thudding　in　the　air。　Dame　Yoldi's　hatred　propelled　her　closer；　closer；　to　the　man　she　would　destroy；　and　closer　still；　until　the　edge　of　the　bright　arc　of　force　touched　her；　hands　first；　body　an　eyeblink　later；　and　wiped　her　away。
　Denis　saw　no　more　for　the　next　few　seconds。　When　he　looked　up　again；　there　was　a　pause。　Sir　Andrew　stood　alone　now；　knee…deep　in　a　small　mound　of　corpses；　all　in　his　own　colors　of　orange　and　black。　The　Sword　in　his　hands　still　thudded　dully；　for　those　of　his　former　friends　who　still　survived　as　maddened　enemies　were　not　through　with　him　yet。　A　small　knot　of　them；　the　wounded；　those　who　had　been　slow　to　charge；　the　calculating；　were　gathering　at　a　little　distance；　scheming　some　strategy；　hatred　forced　into　patient　planning。
　Denis　hurried　to　Sir　Andrew's　side。　The　young　man　thought；　as　he　approached；　that　Sir　Andrew　was　trying　to　hurl　Shieldbreaker　from　him；　the　Sword　was　quieter　now　in　the　Knight's　hands；　its　sound　reduced　to　a　muted　tapping。　But　if　he　was　trying　to　be　rid　of　it；　it　would　not　let　him　go。　Both　of　his　hands　still　gripped　it；　fingers　interlocked　around　the　hilt；　white…knuckled　where　the　knuckles　could　be　seen　through　blood。
　Sir　Andrew　turned　a　hideous　face　to　Denis。　The　Knight's　voice　was　a　ghastly　whisper；　almost　inaudible。　〃Go；　catch　up　with　the　advance　guard。　Find　the　man　who　is　carrying　Doomgiver；　and　order　him　in　my　name；　and　for　the　love　of　Ardneh；　to　return　here　as　fast　as　he　can。〃
　Denis　had　hardly　got　out　of　sight　in　one　direction　before　Sir　Andrew；　looking　the　opposite　way；　was　able　to　see　the　main　body　of　Vilkata's　troops　in　the　distance；　a　black…gold　wave　advancing　toward　him。　A　trumpet　sounded　from　that　line。　On　hearing　it；　such　remnants　of　Sir　Andrew's　corrupted　troops　as　were　still　on　the　field　abandoned　their　hopeless　attack；　turning　in　obedient　retreat　to　join　the　forces　of　their　new　master。
　There；　in　the　distance；　that　man；　whitehaired　and　mounted　under　a　gold…black　banner；　must　be　Vilkata　himself。　In　those　distant　hands　a　weapon　that　Sir　Andrew　knew　must　be　the　Mindsword　flamed；　the　sun　awakening　in　it　all　the　fires　of　glory。　To　Sir　Andrew's　eyes；　it　was　not　much　more　than　a　glass　mirror；　Shieldbreaker　in　his　own　hands　protected　him　from　that　weapon　too。　It　negated　all　weapons　except　itself。
　And　it　was　quite　enough；　he　thought；　it　had　quite　destroyed　him　already。
　Again　a　horn　sounded；　somewhere　over　there　in　the　army　of　the　Dark　King。　Next；　to　the　Knight's　numbed　surprise；　Vilkata's　hosts　that　had　only　just　appeared　began　a　measured　withdrawal；　going　back　over　the　rise　of　land　whence　they　had　e。　Sir　Andrew　tried　to　think　that　over；　his　mind　working　in　a　newly　confused　way。　He　supposed　that　to　Vilkata's　calculation　the　withdrawal　was　only　sense：　why　order　an　army　to　chew　itself　to　tatters；　to　no　purpose；　upon　Shieldbreaker's　unbreakable　defense？
　Sir　Andrew　might　have　pursued　that　army；　he　might　have　run　screaming　at　that　central　banner　bearing　the　black　skull　until　everyone　beneath　it　had　been　turned　to　chopped　meat　at　his　hands。　But　they　would　not　wait　for　him。　Vilkata　was　mounted　and　would　get　away。　And　anyway　he；　Sir　Andrew；　was　too　weak　to　run；　to　pursue　and　catch　up　with　anyone。
　Now　that　the　immediate　threat　to　Sir　Andrew　himself　was　over；　the　strength　of　magic　that　had　been　given　him　through　the　Sword　was　draining　rapidly　away。　The　dread　sound　of　Shieldbreaker's　hammer　thumped　more　softly；　tapping　slower；　tapping　itself　down　into　silence。
　He　saw　himself　as　if　from　outside；　an　old　man　standing　alone　on　a　hill；　knee…deep　in　corpses　of　those　he　once　had　loved。　His　arms　ached；　as　if　they　had　been　pounded　by　quarterstaffs；　from　the　drill　that　Shieldbreaker　had　dragged　them　through。　Careless　of　the　blood；　he　put　the　Sword　into　its　sheath。
　It　was　all　Sir　Andrew　could　do　now　to　remain　on　his　feet。
　It　was　almost　more　than　he　could　do；　to　go　and　look　at　what　was　left　of　Yoldi。
　After　that；　trying　to　see　his　way　through　tears；　he　made　his　legs　carry　him　away。　He　was　not　sure　where　he　was　going；　nor　even　of　where　he　ought　to　go。　He　got　no　farther　than　the　next　small　hillock　of　the　field；　ing　again　within　sight　of　the　flimsy　ruins　of　the　carnival；　when　the　great　pain　struck　him　inside　his　chest。　It　felt　like　a　spearthrust　to　the　heart。
　He　collapsed　on　his　back。　A　fighter's　instincts　made　him　draw　the　great　Sword　again　before　he　fell。　But　he　faced　no　weapons　now；　and　the　Sword　of　Force　was　lifeless。
　As　Sir　Andrew　lay　in　the　grass　the　sky　above　him　looked　so　peaceful　that　it　surprised　him。　He　considered　his　pain。　It　feels；　he　thought；　as　if　my　heart　were　bursting。　As　perhaps　it　is。
　He　took　a　look　back；　quickly　and　critically；　at　what　he　could　see　at　this　moment　of　his　own　long　life。　He　found　the　prospect　of　death；　at　this　moment；　not　unwele。
　The　pain　came　again；　worse　than　before。
　〃Yoldi。。。〃
　But　she　did　not　answer。　She　was　not　going　to　answer　him　ever　again。
　When　it　seemed　that　the　pain　was　going　to　let　him　live　yet　a　little　longer；　Sir　Andrew　flung　Shieldbreaker　away　from　him；　using　two　hands　and　all　of　his　remaining　strength。　He　had　tried　to　throw　the　great　Sword　away　before；　tried　again　and　again　when　he　saw　Yoldi　running　at　him　and　realized　what　must　have　happened　to　her；　and　what　was　going　to　happen。　But　the　Sword's　magic　would　not　leave　him　then。　This　time；　now　that　it　was　too　late；　it　left　his　hands　as　obediently　as　any　stick　thrown　for　a　dog。　The　blade　whined　faintly；　mournfully；　turning　through　the　air。
　The　Knight　did　not　want　to　die　alone。　If　only　there　could　be　a　friend　nearby　…　someone。
　He　closed　his　eyes；　and　wondered　if　he　would　ever　open　them　on　this　world's　skies　again。　Would　it　be　Ardneh　that　he　saw　when　he　opened　his　eyes　again；　as　some　folk　thought？　Or　nothingness？
　He　opened　them　and　saw　that　he　was　still　in　the　same　world；　under　the　same　sky。　Something　pelled　him　to　make　the　effort　to　turn　his　head。　A　single　figure；　that　of　a　man　in　gray；　was　walking　toward　him　from　the　direction　of　the　carnival；　the　abandoned　showplace　that　Sir　Andrew　had　been　perfectly　sure　was　quite　deserted。　A　man；　not　armed　or　armored；　but。。。　wearing　a　mask？
　The　gray…clad　figure　came　close；　and　knelt　down　beside　him　like　a　concerned　rade。
　Sir　Andrew　asked：　〃Who're　you？〃
　The　man　raised　a　hand　promptly　and　pulled　off　his　mask。
　〃Oh。〃　Sir　Andrew's　voice　was　almost　disappointed　in　its　reassurance。　〃You；〃　he　said；　relieved　and　calm。　〃Yes。。。　I　know　who　you　are。〃
　Denis；　returning　mounted　and　at　full　speed；　leading　a　small　flying　wedge　of　armed　and　armored　folk　who　were　desperate　to　relieve　their　beloved　lord；　found　the　battlefield　deserted　by　the　living。　Sir　Andrew　lay　dead；　at　a　little　distance　from　the　other　dead。　His　body；　though　covered　with　others'　gore；　was　unmarked　by　any　serious　wound。　The　expression　on　the　Kind　Knight's　face　was　peaceful。
　Presently　Denis　and　the　others　began　to　look　for　Shieldbreaker。　They　looked　everywhere　among　the　dead；　and　then　in　widening　circles　outward。　But　the　Sword　of　Force　was　gone。
　Chapter　11
　The　field　cot　was　wide　enough　for　two　…　for　two；　at　least；　who　were　on　terms　of　intimate　friendship　…　but　tonight；　as　for　many　nights　past；　only　one　per