mck.harpistinthewind-第15节

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e　Star…Bearer　is　the　pivot　point　of　a　game。　I　did　not　know；　any　more　than　you；　that　he　would　be　a　young　Prince　of　Hed；　whom　I　might　e　dangerously　close　to　loving。　There　is　no　more　binding　than　that；　and　it　is　hardly　important。　I　have　betrayed　him　to　you　twice。　But　you　will　have　to　find　someone　else　to　betray　Raederle　of　An。　I　am　in　her　debt。　Again；　that　is　a　small　matter：　she　is　no　threat　to　you；　and　any　land…ruler　in　the　realm　can　serve　in　her　place。〃
　　　　　　　〃The　Morgol？〃
　　　　　　　Deth　was　still；　not　breathing；　not　blinking；　as　if　he　were　something　honed　into　shape　by　wind　and　weather。　Morgon；　watching；　brushed　something　off　his　face　with　the　back　of　his　hand；　he　realized　in　surprise　that　he　was　crying。
　　　　　　　Deth　said　finally；　very　softly；　〃No。〃
　　　　　　　〃So。〃　The　wizard　contemplated　him；　hair…thin　lines　of　impatience　and　power　deepening　at　the　sides　of　his　mouth。　〃There　is　something　that　is　not　such　a　small　matter。　I　was　beginning　to　wonder。　If　I　can't　hire　you　back　into　my　service；　perhaps　I　can　persuade　you。　The　Morgol　of　Herun　is　camped　outside　of　Lungold　with　two　hundred　of　her　guard。　The　guard　is　there；　I　assume；　to　protect　the　city；　the　Morgol；　out　of　some　inprehensible　impulse；　is　waiting　for　you。　I　will　give　you　a　choice。　If　you　choose　to　leave　Raederle　here；　I　will　bring　the　Morgol　with　me　to　Erlenstar　Mountain；　after　I　have　subdued；　with　Morgon's　help；　the　last　of　the　Lungold　wizards。　Choose。〃
　　　　　　　He　waited。　The　harpist　was　motionless　again；　even　the　crooked　bones　in　his　hands　seemed　brittle。　The　wizard's　voice　whipped　at　him　and　he　flinched。　〃Choose！〃
　　　　　　　Raederle's　hands　slid　over　her　mouth。　〃Deth；　I'll　go；〃　she　whispered。　〃I'll　follow　Morgon　anyway；　or　I　will　be　foresworn。〃
　　　　　　　The　harpist　did　not　speak。　He　moved　finally；　very　slowly　toward　them；　his　eyes　on　Ghisteslwchlohm's　face。　He　stopped　a　pace　away　from　him　and　drew　breath　to　speak。　Then；　in　a　swift；　fluid　movement；　the　back　of　his　crippled　hand　cracked　across　the　Founder's　face。
　　　　　　　Ghisteslwchlohm　stepped　back；　his　fingers　driving　to　the　bone　on　Morgon's　arm；　but　he　could　not　have　moved。　The　harpist　slid　to　his　knees；　hunched　over　the　newly　broken　bones　in　his　hand。　He　lifted　his　face；　white；　bruised　with　agony；　asking　nothing。　For　a　moment　Ghisteslwchlohm　looked　down　at　him　silently；　and　Morgon　saw　in　his　eyes　what　might　have　been　the　broken　memories　of　many　centuries。　Then　his　own　hand　rose。　A　lash　of　fire　caught　the　harpist　across　the　eyes；　flung　him　backward　across　the　bracken；　where　he　lay　still；　staring　blindly　at　the　sun。
　　　　　　　The　wizard　held　Morgon　with　his　hand　and　his　eyes；　until　Morgon　realized　slowly　that　he　was　shaken　with　a　dry；　tearless　sobbing　and　his　muscles　were　locked　to　attack。　The　wizard　touched　his　eyes　briefly；　as　if　the　streak　of　fire　torn　out　of　his　mind　had　given　him　a　headache。　〃Why　in　Hel's　name；〃　he　demanded；　〃are　you　wasting　grief　on　him？　Look　at　me。　Look　at　me！〃
　　　　　　　　〃I　don't　know！〃　Morgon　shouted　back　at　him。　He　saw　more　fire　snap　through　the　air；　across　the　harpist's　body。　It　touched　the　dark　harp　and　flamed。　The　air　wailed　with　snapping　strings。　Raederle　shimmered　suddenly　into　sheer　fire；　the　wizard　pulled　her　relentlessly　back　into　shape　with　his　mind。　She　was　still　half…fire；　and　Morgon　was　struggling　with　an　impulse　of　power　that　would　have　doomed　her；　when　something　in　him　froze。　He　whirled。　Watching　curiously　among　the　trees　were　a　dozen　men。　Their　horses　were　the　color　of　night；　their　garments　all　the　wet；　rippling　colors　of　the　sea。
　　　　　　　〃The　world；〃　one　of　them　mented　in　the　sudden　silence；　〃is　not　a　safe　place　for　harpists。〃　He　bent　his　head　to　Morgon。　〃Star…Bearer。〃　His　pale；　expressionless　face　seemed　to　flow　a　little　with　the　breeze。　From　him　came　the　smell　of　brine。　〃Ylon's　child。〃　His　lucent　eyes　went　to　Ghisteslwchlohm。　〃High　One。〃
　　　　　　　Morgon　stared　at　them。　His　mind；　spinning　through　possibilities　of　action；　went　suddenly　blank。　They　had　no　weapons；　their　black　mounts　were　stone　still；　but　any　movement；　he　sensed；　a　shift　of　light；　a　bird　call　on　the　wrong　note；　could　spring　a　merciless　attack。　They　seemed　suspended　from　motion；　as　on　a　breath　of　silence　between　two　waves；　whether　by　curiosity　or　simple　uncertainty；　he　did　not　know。　He　felt　Ghisteslwchlohm's　hand　grip　his　shoulder　and　was　reassured　oddly　by　the　fact　that　the　wizard　wanted　him　alive。
　　　　　　　The　shape…changer　who　had　spoken　answered　his　question　with　a　soft；　equivocal　mockery；　〃For　thousands　of　years　we　have　been　waiting　to　meet　the　High　One。〃
　　　　　　　Morgon　heard　the　wizard　draw　breath。　〃So。　You　are　the　spawn　of　the　seas　of　Ymris　and　An？〃
　　　　　　　〃No。　We　are　not　of　the　sea。　We　have　shaped　ourselves　to　its　harping。　You　are　careless　of　your　harpist。〃
　　　　　　　〃The　harpist　is　my　business。〃
　　　　　　　〃He　served　you　well。　We　watched　him　through　the　centuries；　doing　your　bidding；　wearing　your　mask；　waiting。。。　as　we　waited；　long　before　you　set　foot　on　this　earth　of　the　High　One's；　Ghisteslwchlohm。　Where　is　the　High　One？〃　His　horse　snaked　forward　soundlessly；　like　a　shadow；　stopped　three　paces　from　Morgon。　He　resisted　an　impulse　to　step　backward。　The　Founder's　voice；　tired；　impatient；　made　him　marvel。
　　　　　　　〃I　am　not　interested　in　riddle…games。　Or　in　a　fight。　You　take　your　shapes　out　of　dead　men　and　seaweed；　you　breathe；　you　harp　and　you　die：　that　is　all　I　know　or　care　to　know　about　you。　Back　your　mount　or　you　will　be　riding　a　pile　of　kelp。〃
　　　　　　　The　shape…changer　backed　it　a　step　without　a　shift　of　muscle。　His　eyes　caught　light　like　water；　for　an　instant　they　seemed　to　smile。　〃Master　Ohm；〃　he　said；　〃do　you　know　the　riddle　of　the　man　who　opened　his　door　at　midnight　and　found　not　the　black　sky　filling　his　doorway　but　the　black；　black　eye　of　some　creature　who　stretched　beyond　him　to　measureless　dimension？　Look　at　us　again。　Then　go；　quietly；　leaving　the　Star…Bearer　and　our　kinswoman。〃
　　　　　　　〃You　look；〃　the　Founder　said　brusquely。　Morgon；　still　in　his　hold；　was　jolted　by　the　strength　that　poured　out　of　him：　energy　that　slapped　at　the　shape…changers；　flattened　an　oak　in　its　way　and　sent　frightened　birds　screaming　into　the　air。　The　silent　thunder　of　the　fire　streaked　towards　their　minds；　Morgon　felt　it；　but　as　at　a　distance；　for　the　wizard　had　shielded　his　mind。　When　the　trees　had　splintered　and　settled；　the　shape…changers　slowly　reappeared　out　of　the　flock　of　birds　that　had　startled　into　the　air。　Their　number　had　doubled；　for　half　of　them　had　been　the　motionless　horses。　They　took　their　previous　shapes　leisurely；　while　Ghisteslwchlohm　watched；　puzzled；　Morgon　sensed；　about　the　extent　of　their　power。　His　grip　had　slackened。　A　twig　in　a　bush　rustled　slightly；　for　no　discernible　reason；　and　the　shape…changers　attacked。
　　　　　　　There　was　a　wave　of　black　pelt；　soundless；　shell…black　hooves　rolling　toward　them　so　fast　that　Morgon　barely　had　tune　to　react。　He　worked　an　illusion　of　nothingness　over　himself　that　he　suspected　only　Raederle　noticed；　she　gasped　when　he　gripped　her　wrist。　Something　struck　him：　a　horse's　hoof；　or　the　hilt　of　a　shadowy　blade；　and　he　wavered　an　instant　in　and　out　of　visibility。　He　felt　his　muscles　tense　for　a　death　blow。　But　nothing　touched　him；　only　wind；　for　a　few　broken　moments。　He　flung　his　mind　forward；　miles　ahead　along　the　road；　where　a　trader　driving　a　wagon…load　of　cloth　was　whistling　away　his　boredom。　He　filled　Raederle's　mind　with　the　same　awareness　and　gripping　her　hard；　pulled　her　forward　into　it。
　　　　　　　A　moment　later　he　was　lying　with　her　at　the　bottom　of　the　big　covered　cart；　bleeding　onto　a　bolt　of　embroidered　linen。
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　VIII
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　RAEDERLE　WAS　SOBBING。　HE　TRIED　TO　QUIET　HER；　gathering　her　to　him　as　he　listened；　but　she　could　not　stop。　He　heard　beneath　her　weeping　the　grind　of　wheels　in　the　dust　and　the　driver's　whistling；　muffled　by　the　bolts　of　cloth　piled　behind　him　and　the　canvas　covering　the　wagon。　The　road　was　quiet；　he　heard　no　sounds　of　disturbance　behind　them。　His　head　was　aching；　he　leaned　it　against　the　linen。　His　eyes　closed。　A　darkness　thundered　soundlessly　toward　him　again。　Then　a　cartwheel　banged　into　a　pothole；　jarring　him；　and　Raederle　twisted　out　of　his　hold　and　sat　up。　She　pushed　her　hair　out　of　her　eyes。
　　　　　　　〃Morgon；　he　came　for　me　at　night；　and　I　was　barefoot；　I　couldn't　even　run。　I　thought　it　was　you。　I　don't　even　have　shoes　on。　What　in　Hel's　name　was　that　harpist　doing？　I　don't　understand　him。　I　don't。。。〃　She　stopped　suddenly；　staring　at　him；　as　if　he　were　a　shape…changer　she　had　found　beside　her。　She　put　one　hand　over　her　mouth；　and　touched　his　face　with　the　other。　〃Morgon。。。〃
　　　　　　　He　put　his　hand　to　his　forehead；　looked　at　the　blood　on　his　fingers；　and　made　a　surprised　sound。　The　side　of　his　face；　from　temple　to　jaw；　was　burning。　His　shoulder　hurt；　his　tunic　fell　apart　when　he　touched　it。　A　raw；　wide　gash；　like　the　scrape　of　a　sharp　hoof；　continued　from　his　face　to　his　shoulder　and　halfway　down　his　chest。
　　　　　　　He　straightened　slowly；　looking　at　the　bloodstains　he　had　left　on　the　floor　of　the　wagon；　on　the　trader's　fine　cloth。　He　shuddered　suddenly；　violently；　and　pushed　his　face　against　his　knees。
　　　　　　　〃I　walked　straight　into　that　one。〃　He　began　to　curse　himself；　vividly　and　methodically；　until　he　heard　her　rise。　He　caught　her　wris