mck.harpistinthewind-第47节

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s　it　that　you　aren't　telling　me？〃
　　　　　　　〃I　have　given　you　my　name。〃
　　　　　　　Morgon　was　silent。　It　began　to　snow　lightly；　big；　random　flakes　scattered　on　the　wind。　They　caught　on　his　hands；　burned　before　they　vanished。　He　shuddered　suddenly　and　found　that　he　bad　no　inclination　left　for　questions。　Raederle　had　turned　away　from　them　both。　She　looked　oddly　isolated　in　the　center　of　the　small　chamber。　Morgon　went　to　her　side；　her　head　lifted　as　he　joined　her；　but　her　face　turned　away　from　him　to　the　High　One。
　　　　　　　He　came　to　her；　as　if　she　had　drawn　him；　the　way　he　drew　Morgon。　He　smoothed　a　strand　of　her　windblown　hair　away　from　her　face。　〃Raederle；　it　is　time　for　you　to　leave。〃
　　　　　　　She　shook　her　head。　〃No。〃　Her　voice　was　very　quiet。　〃I　am　half　Earth…Master。　You　will　have　at　least　one　of　your　kind　fighting　for　you　after　all　these　centuries。　I　will　not　leave　either　of　you。〃
　　　　　　　〃You　are　in　the　eye　of　danger。〃
　　　　　　　〃I　chose　to　e。　To　be　with　those　I　love。〃
　　　　　　　He　was　silent；　for　a　moment　he　was　only　the　harpist；　ageless；　indrawn；　lonely。　〃You；〃　he　said　softly；　〃I　never　expected。　So　powerful；　so　beautiful；　and　so　loving。　You　are　like　one　of　our　children；　growing　into　power　before　our　war。〃　He　lifted　her　hand　and　kissed　it；　then　opened　it　to　the　small　angular　scar　on　her　palm。　〃There　are　twelve　winds；〃　he　said　to　Morgon。　〃Bound；　controlled；　they　are　more　precise　and　terrible　than　any　weapon　or　wizard's　power　in　the　realm。　Unbound；　they　could　destroy　the　realm。　They　are　also　my　eyes　and　ears；　for　they　shape　all　things；　hear　all　words　and　movements；　and　they　are　everywhere。。。　That　jewel　that　Raederle　held　was　cut　and　faceted　by　winds。　I　did　that　one　day　when　I　was　playing　with　them；　long　before　I　ever　used　them　in　our　war。　The　memory　of　that　was　mirrored　in　the　stone。〃
　　　　　　　〃Why　are　you　telling　me？〃　His　voice　jerked　a　little。　〃I　can't　hold　the　winds。〃
　　　　　　　〃No。　Not　yet。　Don't　be　concerned；　yet。〃　He　put　his　arm　around　Morgon's　shoulders；　held　him　easily　again　within　his　stillness。　〃Listen。　You　can　hear　the　voices　of　all　the　winds　of　the　realm　in　this　chamber。　Listen　to　my　mind。〃
　　　　　　　Morgon　opened　his　mind　to　the　High　One's　silence。　The　vague；　incoherent　murmurings　outside　the　walls　were　refracted　through　the　High　One's　mind　into　all　the　pure；　beautiful　tones　on　the　starred　harp。　The　harping　filled　Morgon's　heart　with　soft；　light　summer　winds；　and　the　deep；　wild　winds　that　he　loved；　the　slow；　rich　measures　matched　the　beat　of　his　blood。　He　wanted　suddenly　to　hold　the　harping　and　the　harpist　within　that　moment　until　the　white　winter　sky　broke　apart　once　more　to　light。
　　　　　　　The　harping　stilled。　He　could　not　speak；　he　did　not　want　the　High　One　to　move。　But　the　arm　around　his　shoulders　shifted；　the　High　One　gripped　him　gently；　facing　him。
　　　　　　　〃Now；〃　he　said；　〃we　have　a　battle　on　our　hands。　I　want　you　to　find　Heureu　Ymris。　This　time；　I'll　warn　you：　when　you　touch　his　mind；　you　will　spring　a　trap　set　for　you。　The　Earth…Masters　will　know　where　you　are　and　that　the　High　One　is　with　you。　You　will　ignite　war　again　on　Wind　Plain。　They　have　little　mind…power　of　their　own：　I　keep　that　bound；　but　they　hold　Ghisteslwchlohm's　mind；　and　they　may　use　his　powers　of　wizardry　to　try　to　hurt　you。　I'll　break　any　bindings　he　forges。〃
　　　　　　　Morgon　turned　his　head；　looked　at　Raederle。　Her　eyes　told　him　what　he　already　knew：　that　nothing　he　could　say　or　do　could　make　her　leave　them。　He　bent　his　head　again；　in　silent　acquiescence　to　her　and　to　the　High　One。　Then　he　let　his　awareness　venture　beyond　the　silence　into　the　damp　earth　around　the　tower。　He　touched　a　single　blade　of　grass；　let　his　mind　shape　it　from　hair　roots　to　tip。　Rooted　also　within　the　structure　of　land…law　in　Heureu's　mind；　it　became　his　link　with　the　King　of　Ymris。
　　　　　　　He　sensed　a　constant；　nagging　pain；　a　turmoil　of　helpless　anger　and　despair；　and　heard　a　distant；　hollow　drag　and　ebb　of　the　sea。　He　had　learned　every　shape　of　cliff　and　stone　boring　out　of　the　shores；　and　he　recognized　the　strip　of　Meremont　coast。　He　smelled　wet　wood　and　ashes；　the　king　lay　in　a　half…burned　fisher's　hut　on　the　beach；　no　more　than　a　mile　or　two　from　Wind　Plain。
　　　　　　　He　started　to　glance　up；　to　speak。　Then　the　sea　flooded　over　him；　spilled　through　all　his　thoughts。　He　seemed　to　stare　down　a　long；　dark　passageway　into　Ghisteslwchlohm's　alien；　gold…flecked　eyes。
　　　　　　　He　felt　the　startled　recognition　in　the　bound　mind。　Then　a　mind…hold　raked　at　him；　and　the　wizard's　eyes　burned　into　him；　searching　for　him。　The　mind…hold　was　broken；　he　reeled　back　away　from　it。　The　High　One　gripped　his　shoulder；　holding　him　still。　He　started　to　speak　again；　but　the　falcon's　eyes　stopped　him。
　　　　　　　He　waited；　shaken　suddenly　by　the　pounding　of　his　heart。　Raederle；　bound　to　the　same　waiting；　seemed　remote　again；　belonging　to　another　portion　of　the　world。　He　wanted　desperately　to　speak；　to　break　the　silence　that　held　them　all　motionless　as　if；　they　were　carved　of　stone。　But　he　seemed　spellbound；　choiceless；　an　extension　of　the　High　One's　will。　A　movement　streaked　the　air；　and　then　another。　The　dark；　delicately　beautiful　Earth…Master；　whom　Morgon　knew　as　Eriel；　stood　before　them；　and　beside　her；　Ghisteslwchlohm。
　　　　　　　For　a　moment；　the　High　One　checked　the　power　gathered　against　him。　There　was　astonishment　and　awe　in　the　woman's　eyes　as　she　recognized　the　harpist。　The　wizard；　face　to　face　with　the　High　One；　whom　he　had　been　searching　for　so　long；　nearly　broke　the　hold　over　his　mind。　A　faint　smile　touched　the　falcon's　eyes；　icy　as　the　heart　of　the　northern　wastes。
　　　　　　　〃Even　death；　Master　Ohm；〃　he　said；　〃is　a　riddle。〃
　　　　　　　A　rage　blackened　Ghisteslwchlohm's　eyes。　Something　spun　Morgon　across　the　chamber。　He　struck　the　dark　wall；　it　gave　under　him；　and　he　fell　into　a　luminous；　blue…black　mist　of　illusion。　He　heard　Raederle's　cry；　and　then　a　crow　streaked　across　his　vision。　He　caught　at　it；　but　it　fluttered　away　between　his　hands。　A　mind　gripped　his　mind。　The　binding　was　instantly　broken。　A　power　he　did　not　feel　flashed　at　him　and　was　swallowed。　He　saw　Ghisteslwchlohm's　face　again；　blurred　in　the　strange　light　He　felt　a　wrench　at　his　side；　and　he　cried　out；　though　he　did　not　know　what　had　been　taken　from　him。　Then　he　turned　on　his　back　and　saw　the　starred　sword　in　Ghisteslwchlohm's　hands；　rising　endlessly　upward；　gathering　shadow　and　light；　until　the　stars　burst　with　fire　and　darkness　above　Morgon。　He　could　not　move；　the　stars　drew　his　eyes；　his　thoughts。　He　watched　them　reach　their　apex　and　halt；　then　blur　into　their　descent　toward　him。　Then　he　saw　the　harpist　again；　standing　beneath　their　fall；　as　quietly　as　he　had　stood　in　the　king's　hall　at　Anuin。
　　　　　　　A　cry　tore　through　Morgon。　The　sword　fell　with　a　terrible　speed；　struck　the　High　One。　It　drove　into　his　heart；　then　snapped　in　Ghisteslwchlohm's　hands。　Morgon；　freed　to　move　at　last；　caught　him　as　he　fell。　He　could　not　breathe；　a　blade　of　grief　was　thrusting　into　his　own　heart。　The　High　One　gripped　his　arms；　his　hands　were　the　harpist's　crippled　hands；　the　wizard's　scarred　hands。　He　struggled　to　speak；　his　face　blurred　from　one　shape　to　another　under　Morgon's　tears。　Morgon　pulled　him　closer；　feeling　something　build　in　him；　like　a　shout　of　fury　and　agony；　but　the　High　One　was　already　beginning　to　vanish。　He　reached　up　with　a　hand　shaped　of　red　stone　or　fire；　touched　the　stars　on　Morgon's　face。
　　　　　　　He　whispered　Morgon's　name。　His　hand　slid　down　over　Morgon's　heart。　〃Free　the　winds。〃
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　XX
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　A　SHOUT　THAT　WAS　NOT　A　SHOUT　BUT　　A　WIND…voice　came　out　of　Morgon。　The　High　One　turned　to　flame　in　his　hands；　and　then　into　a　memory。　The　sound　he　had　made　reverberated　through　the　tower：　a　low　bass　note　that　built　and　built　until　the　stones　around　him　began　to　shake。　Winds　were　battering　at　the　tower；　he　felt　struck　and　struck　again；　like　a　harp　string；　by　his　grief。　He　did　not　know；　out　of　all　the　wild；　chaotic；　beautiful　voices　around　him；　which　was　his　own。　He　groped　for　his　harp。　The　stars　on　it　had　turned　night…black。　He　swept　his　hand；　or　the　knife…edge　of　a　wind；　across　it。　The　strings　snapped。　As　the　low　string　wailed　and　broke；　stone　and　illusion　of　stone　shocked　apart　around　him　and　began　to　fall。
　　　　　　　Winds　the　color　of　the　stones：　of　fire；　of　gold；　of　night；　spiralled　around　him；　then　broke　away。　The　tower　roared　around　him　and　collapsed　into　a　gigantic　cairn。　Morgon　was　flung　on　his　hands　and　knees　on　the　grass　beside　it。　He　could　sense　Ghisteslwchlohm　and　Eriel's　power　nowhere；　as　if　the　High　One　had　bound　them；　in　that　final　moment；　to　his　death。　Snow　whirled　around　him；　melting　almost　as　soon　as　it　touched　the　ground。　The　sky　was　dead…white。
　　　　　　　His　mind　was　reeling　with　land…law。　He　heard　the　silence　of　grass　roots　under　his　hands；　he　stared　at　the　broken　mass　of　Wind　Tower　out　of　the　unblinking　eyes　of　a　wraith　of　An　at　the　edge　of　the　plain。　A　great　tree　sagged　in　the　rain　on　a　wet　hillside　in　the　backlands；　he　felt　its　roots　shift　and　loosen　as　it　fell。　A　trumpeter　in　Astrin's　army　was　lifting　his　long；　golden　instrument　to　his　mouth。　The　thoughts　of　the　land…rulers　snarled　in　Morgon's　mind；　full　of　grief　and　fear；　though　they　did　not　understand　why。　The　entire　realm　seemed　to　form　under　his　hands　on　th