df.therunelords-第28节
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She was right。 Raj Ahten's soldiers might hurt her。 These people who were too weak to stand； or whose metabolisms were so slow they could not blink more than five times an hourall were a part of their Runelord。 They were his invisible appendages； the source of his power。 By upholding their lord； they opposed their lord's enemies。
If King Sylvarresta were put to death； these wretches wouldn't escape retribution。
Gaborn wanted to tell the maid to stay； that he couldn't take her。 Wanted to tell her how dangerous the trip would be。 But for her； perhaps the greater danger lay in remaining here in the Dedicates' Keep。
〃I plan to try to swim out through the river；〃 Gaborn answered。 〃Can you swim？〃
The wench nodded。 〃A little。〃 She shook at the thought of what she planned to do。 Her jaw trembled。 Tears filled her eyes。 Swimming would not be a valuable skill here in Heredon； but in Mystarria Gaborn had learned the finer points of the arts from water wizards。 He still had protective spells cast over him to help keep him from drowning。
Gaborn leaned close； squeezed her hand。 〃Be brave； now。 You'll be all right。〃
He turned to leave； and she shouldered past； taking a loaf of bread for herself as she scurried out。 In the doorway she grabbed a walking stick and an old shawl； wrapped her head； and hurried out。
On a peg near where the walking stick had been； Gaborn spotted a baker's tunic； an article of clothing too warm to be worn near the ovens。 The bakers typically would strip down to a loincloth while baking。
Gaborn put on the tunic； a grimy thing that smelled of yeast and another man's sweat。 He hung Sylvarresta's fine blue robe in its place。
He looked now like a menial servant； but for his sword and poniard。 He couldn't help those。 He'd need them。
He hurried into the courtyard to gather the forcibles。 The clear evening sky had darkened。 In the courtyard； the shadows had grown surprisingly deep。 Guards were carrying torches out of the guardroom to light the bailey。
As he got out the door； Gaborn saw his mistake。 The great wooden gates to the Dedicates' Keep lay open； and Raj Ah ten's battle guard had just ridden in； men who even to the most casual observer could be seen to move with heightened speed； warriors with so many endowments that Gaborn was but a pale shadow in parison。 All around the courtyard； Lord Sylvarresta's Dedicates had gathered； staring in dismay at Raj Ahten's troops。
Raj Ahten himself； just outside the gates； was leaving the keep with Lord Sylvarresta and Iome。
Gaborn glanced at the ground in the yard。 The forcibles he'd wanted to collect were gone。 Taken。
A warrior in the guard pinned Gaborn with his eyes。 Gaborn's heart beat fiercely。 He shrank back； tried to remember his training in the House of Understanding。
A wretch。 I'm a wretch； he wanted to say with his whole body。 Another miserable cripple； in service to Lord Sylvarresta。 But the sword he wore told another story。
A mute？ A deaf man； one who still hoped to fight？
He shrank back a pace； farther into the shadows； hunched his right shoulder and let his arm hang down； stared at the ground； mouth dropping open stupidly。
〃You！〃 the guard said； spurring his stallion forward。 〃What is your name？〃
Gaborn glanced at the Dedicates around him； as if unsure whether he was being addressed。 The Dedicates weren't armed。 He could not hope to blend in。
Gaborn put on an idiot's grin； let his eyes go unfocused。 There was a class of person who could be found in a Dedicates' Keep that he might play； a servant who had no attributes worth taking； yet who loved his lord and therefore performed what service he could。
Squinting； Gaborn grinned up at the soldier； pointed a finger at his force stallion。 〃Ah！ Nice horse！〃
〃I said； what is your name？〃 the soldier demanded。 He sported a slight Taifan accent。
〃Aleson；〃 Gaborn answered。 〃Aleson the Devotee。〃 He said 〃devotee〃 as if it were a lord's title。 In fact； it was a name given to one rejected as a Dedicate； one found worthless。 He fumbled at his sword as if trying to draw it。 〃I。。。I'm going to be a knight。〃
Gaborn managed to draw the sword halfway； as if to show it off； then shoved it back into the scabbard。 The soldier would recognize fine steel if he saw it。
There； he had his disguise。 A mentally deficient boy who wore a sword as an affectation。
At that moment； a heavy wain pulled through the portcullis； an open wagon filled with men in hooded robesmen slack…jawed； with vacant eyes； their wits drained。 Men so weak from granting brawn they could not rise； but only lay exhausted； arms hanging over the edge of the wagon。 Men so cramped from granting grace that every muscle seemed clenchedbacks curved； fingers and toes curled into useless claws。
Raj Ahten was bringing Dedicates of his own to the keep。 Four huge draft horses pulled the wain。 The honor guards' own stallions danced and kicked。 There was little room for so many beasts here in the square； not with Dedicates standing around； gawking。
〃That's a fine sword； boy；〃 the guard grumbled at Gaborn as his horse shied from the wagon。 〃Be careful you don't cut yourself。〃 His words were a dismissal； he fought to move away from the wagon without crushing the nearest bystander。
Gaborn shuffled forward； knowing the surest way to get rid of someone was to hang on for dear life。 〃Oh； it's not sharp。 Do you want to see？〃
The wagon halted； and Gaborn saw Iome's Maid of Honor； Chemoise； in its very back； holding the head of one of the Dedicates there。 〃Father； Father。。。〃 she cried； and then Gaborn knew that these were not just any Dedicates to Raj Ahten； but captured knights； brought back to their homeland as trophies。 The man Chemoise held was in his mid…thirties； hair of palest brown。 Gaborn watched the maid and her father； wished that he could save them。 Wished he could save this whole kingdom。 You too； he vowed silently； dazed。 If I have my way； I will save you； too。
From out of the shadows at Gaborn's side； a heavy man in a dirty robe approached。 He growled； 〃Aleson； you stinking fool！ Don't just stand in the way。 You didn't empty the Dedicates' chamber pots； like I told you！ e along now and do your job。 Leave the good men alone。〃
To Gaborn's surprise； the fellow thrust two buckets full of feces and urine into Gaborn's hand； then cuffed him on the head。 The buckets reeked。 For one who had endowments of scent； the odor was unbearable。 Gaborn choked back his desire to vomit； twisted his neck； gave the man a wounded glare。 The fellow was stout； with bushy brows； a short brown beard going gray。 In the shadows he looked like just another Dedicate in dirty robes； but Gaborn recognized him： Sylvarresta's herbalist； a powerful magician； the Earth Warden Binnesman。
〃Carry these off to the gardens for me； before it gets too dark；〃 the herbalist whispered viciously； 〃or you'll get another beating worse than the last。〃
Gaborn saw what was happening。 The herbalist knew that Raj Ahten's scouts had his scent。 But no man with endowments of scent would e too near these buckets。
Gaborn held his breath； hefted the buckets。
〃Don't stub your toes in the shadows。 Must I watch you every moment？〃 Binnesman hissed。 He kept his voice low； as if to keep from being overheard； knowing well that each soldier in Raj Ahten's guard had enough endowments of hearing to discern the very sound of Gaborn's heart at this distance。
Binnesman led him round to the back of the kitchens。 There they met the kitchen maid。 〃Good； you found him！〃 she whispered to Binnesman。 The herbalist just nodded； held a finger up； warning her not to speak； then led them both through a small iron gate out the back of the Dedicates' Keep； along a worn trail； into a garden。 The cook's herb garden。
Along the south wall of the garden grew some dark green vines； climbing the stone wall。 Binnesman stopped； began picking leaves。 In the failing light； even Gaborn recognized the narrow； spade…shaped leaves of dogbane。
As soon as he'd picked a handful； Binnesman rolled them in his palm； bruising them。 To a mon man the dogbane had only a slightly malodorous scent； but it was poison to dogs。 They avoided it。 And Binnesman was a master magician capable of strengthening the effects of his herbs。
What Gaborn smelled in that moment was indescribablea gut…wrenching oily reek from a nightmare； like evil incarnate。 Indeed； an image filled Gaborn's mindas if suddenly a giant spider had strung webs of murder here across the path。 Deadly。 Deadly。 Gaborn could imagine how the stuff would affect a hound。
Binnesman sprinkled these leaves on the ground； rubbed some on Gaborn's heel。
When he'd finished； he led Gaborn through the cook's garden； ignoring other herbs as he went。 They jumped a low wall； came to the King's Wallthe second tier of the city's defenses。
Binnesman led Gaborn along a narrow road with the King's Wall on one side； the backs of merchants' shops on the other； till he reached a small gate with iron bars； small enough so a man would have to duck to pass through。 Two guards stood at the gate in the stone wall。 At a gesture from Binnesman； one guard produced a key； unlocked the iron gate。
Gaborn set down the stinking buckets of feces； wanting to
