tw.togreenangeltower2-第131节

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n　hammering　at　the　second　gate。　The　metal…clad　wood　did　not　seem　to　give　even　an　inch。　
　　　　　　　〃They　think　they　have　trapped　Camaris；〃　Strangyeard　said。　〃That　is　what　they　planned　to　do　all　along。〃
　　　　　　　Isgrimnur　turned　and　grabbed　at　the　priest's　robe；　thrusting　his　face　close　to　the　smaller　man's。　〃You　knew？　You　knew？！〃
　　　　　　　〃Goodness；　Isgrimnur；　no；　I　didn't。　But　I　see　it　now。〃
　　　　　　　The　duke　let　him　go　and　began　shouting　frantic　orders；　sending　his　remaining　archers　forward　to　help　protect　the　engineers；　who　were　receiving　redoubled　interest　from　the　soldiers　on　the　Hayholt's　walls。　〃And　find　me　that　damn　Sithi　general！〃　he　bawled。　〃The　one　in　green！　The　fairy…folk　must　help　us　knock　this　new　wall　down！〃
　　　　　　　〃But　you　still　must　listen　to　me；　Isgrimnur；〃　said　the　priest。　〃If　the　Sithi　know　of　those　tunnels；　the　Norns　must；　too。　The　Storm　King；　when　he　lived；　was　master　of　Asu'a！〃
　　　　　　　〃What　does　that　mean？　Speak　plainly；　damn　you！〃　Isgrimnur　was　furiously　agitated。　〃My　son　is　trapped　in　there　with　only　a　few　men。　We　must　break　down　this　new　gate　and　go　in　after　him。〃
　　　　　　　〃I　think　you　must　look　。。。〃　Strangyeard　began；　when　another　round　of　excited　shouts　interrupted　him。　This　time；　though；　they　came　from　behind　Isgrimnur。
　　　　　　　〃ing　up　through　Erchester！〃　one　of　the　mounted　men　screamed。　〃Look！　It　is　the　White　Foxes！〃
　　　　　　　〃I　think　you　must　look　behind　you；　I　was　going　to　say。〃　Strangyeard　shook　his　head。　〃If　we　could　go　beneath　the　walls；　so　could　they。〃
　　　　　　　Even　in　near…darkness　it　was　possible　to　see　that　the　host　moving　up　Main　Row　was　not　human。　White　faces　gleamed　in　the　shadows。　White　hands　held　long　sharp　spears。　Now　that　they　had　been　sighted　and　the　need　for　stealth　was　gone。　they　began　to　sing；　a　triumphant　chant　that　fell　painfully　on　Isgrimnur's　ears。
　　　　　　　The　duke　allowed　himself　one　moment　of　utter　despair。　〃Ransomer　preserve　us；　we　have　been　snared　like　rabbits。〃　He　patted　the　priest's　shoulder　in　silent　thanks；　then　strode　to　the　middle　of　the　platform。　〃To　me；　Josua's　men！　To　me！〃　He　waved　to　Jeremias；　calling　for　his　horse。
　　　　　　　The　Norns　came　up　Main　Row；　singing。

30
Beside　the　Pool

　　　　　　　〃Up　to　the　tree　。　。　。〃　Guthwulf　mumbled。　His　face　beneath　Simon's　hand　was　oven…hot　and　slippery　with　sweat。　〃To　the　flaming　tree。　Wants　to　go　。。。〃
　　　　　　　The　earl　was　getting　worse；　and　Simon　did　not　know　what　to　do。　He　was　still　badly　hobbled　by　his　own　wounds；　knew　almost　nothing　of　the　healing　arts；　and　in　any　case　was　in　a　lightless　place　with　nothing　that　might　be　of　use　in　easing　Guthwulf's　fever。　Because　of　a　dim　recollection　that　fevers　had　to　burn　themselves　out；　he　had　covered　the　suffering　earl　with　some　of　the　rags　strewn　about　the　floor；　but　he　felt　like　a　traitor　putting　warm　things　on　someone　who　seemed　to　be　burning　up。
　　　　　　　Helpless；　he　sat　down　beside　Guthwulf　once　more；　listening　to　him　rave　and　praying　that　the　earl　would　survive。　The　blackness　pressed　in　on　him　like　the　crushing　depths　of　the　ocean；　making　it　hard　to　breathe；　to　think。　He　tried　to　distract　himself　by　remembering　the　things　he　had　seen；　the　places　he　had　been。　More　than　anything　he　wanted　to　do　something；　but　at　this　moment　there　seemed　to　be　nothing　to　do　but　wait。　He　did　not　want　to　be　left　alone　and　lost　in　the　empty　places　again。
　　　　　　　Something　touched　his　leg　and　Simon　reached　out；　thinking　that　Guthwulf　in　his　misery　was　looking　for　a　hand　to　hold。　Instead；　Simon's　fingers　trailed　across　something　warm　and　covered　with　fur。　He　let　out　a　shout　of　surprise　and　scrabbled　back；　expecting　momentarily　to　feel　rats　or　something　worse　swarming　over　him。　When　there　was　no　further　contact　he　crouched；　huddled　into　himself；　for　a　long　time。　Then　his　feelings　of　responsibility　for　Guthwulf　won　out　and　he　edged　back　toward　the　earl。　A　squeamish　exploration　found　the　furry　thing　again。　It　shrank　back　as　he　had；　but　did　not　go　far。　It　was　a　cat。
　　　　　　　Simon　laughed　breathlessly；　then　reached　out　and　stroked　the　creature。　It　arched　beneath　his　hand；　but　would　not　e　to　him。　Instead　it　settled　against　the　blind　man　and　Guthwulf's　movements　became　less　agitated；　his　breathing　quieter。　The　cat's　presence　seemed　to　soothe　him。　Simon；　too；　felt　a　little　less　alone；　and　resolved　to　be　careful　not　to　frighten　the　animal　away。　He　fetched　some　of　the　remaining　heel　of　bread　and　offered　a　pinch　to　the　cat；　who　sniffed　it　but　did　not　take　any。　Simon　ate　a　few　small　pieces　himself；　then　tried　to　find　a　fortable　position　to　sleep　in。
　　　　　　　Simon　awakened；　abruptly　conscious　that　something　had　happened。　In　the　darkness　it　was　impossible　to　discern　any　changes；　but　he　had　the　inescapable　feeling　that　things　had　shifted　somehow；　that　he　was　suddenly　in　an　unfamiliar　place　with　no　knowledge　of　how　he　had　e　there。　But　the　rags　around　him　were　the　same；　and　Guthwulf's　labored　breathing；　though　quieter；　still　rasped　away　nearby。　Simon　crawled　over　to　the　earl；　gently　pushed　aside　the　warm　and　purring　cat；　and　was　heartened　to　feel　much　of　the　cramping　tension　gone　from　the　blind　man's　limbs。　Perhaps　he　was　recovering　from　the　fever。　Perhaps　the　cat　had　been　his　panion　and　its　presence　had　restored　a　little　of　his　sanity。　In　any　case；　Guthwulf　had　stopped　raving。　Simon　let　the　cat　clamber　back　into　the　crook　of　the　earl's　arm。　It　felt　strange　not　to　hear　Guthwulf's　voice。
During　the　earliest　hours　of　his　fever；　the　earl　had　been　almost　lucid　for　short　stretches；　although　he　was　so　plagued　by
his　voices　and　former　solitude　that　it　was　difficult　to　separate　truth　from　terrifying　dream。　He　talked　about　crawling　through　darkness；　desperate　to　find　Bright…Nail…although；　strangely；　he　did　not　seem　to　think　of　it　as　a　sword　at　all；　but　as　something　alive　that　summoned　him。　Simon　remembered　Thorn's　disturbing　vitality　and　thought　he　understood　a　little　of　what　the　earl　meant。
　　　　　　　It　was　hard　to　make　sense　out　of　the　impressions　of　a　half…mad　blind　man；　but　as　Guthwulf　spoke；　Simon　pictured　the　earl　walking　through　the　tunnels；　lured　by　something　that　called　to　him　in　a　voice　he　could　not　ignore。　Guthwulf　had　gone　far　beyond　his　usual　range；　it　seemed；　and　had　heard　and　felt　many　terrible　things。　At　last　he　had　crawled；　and　when　even　those　narrow　ways　were　blocked；　he　had　dug；　fighting　his　way　through　the　last　cubits　of　earth　that　had　separated　him　from　the　object　of　his　obsession。
　　　　　　　He　dug　into　John's　barrow；　Simon　realized；　shuddering。　Like　a　blind　mole　after　a　carrot；　scraping；　scraping　。。。
Guthwulf　had　taken　his　prize　and　had　somehow　found　his　way　back　to　his　nest；　but　apparently　even　the　joy　of　possessing　the　thing　he　had　sought　had　not　been　enough　to　keep　him　in　hiding。　For　some　reason　he　had　ventured　out；　perhaps　to　steal　food　from　the　forge…where　else　had　the　bread　and　water　e　from？…but　perhaps　for　some　deeper；　more　plicated　reason。　
　　　　　　　Why　did　he　e　to　me？　Simon　wondered。　Why　would　he　risk　being　caught　by　Inch？　He　thought　again　of　Thorn；　of　how　it　had　seemed　almost　to　choose　where　it　wished　to　go。　Maybe　Bright…Nail　wanted　to　find　。。。　me。
　　　　　　　The　thought　was　a　frighteningly　seductive　one。　If　Bright…Nail　was　being　drawn　to　the　great　conflict　that　was　ing；　then　maybe　it　somehow　knew　that　Guthwulf　would　never　willingly　go　up　into　the　light　again。　As　Thorn　had　chosen　Simon　and　his　fellows　to　bring　it　down　from　Urmsheim　and　back　to　Camaris；　maybe　Bright…Nail　had　chosen　Simon　to　carry　it　up　to　Green　Angel　Tower　to　fight　the　Storm　King。
Another　dim　recollection　surfaced。　In　my　dream；　Leieth　said　that　the　sword　was　part　of　my　story。　Is　that　what　she　meant？　The　details　were　strangely　misty；　but　he　remembered　the　sad…faced　man　who　had　held　the　blade　across　his　lap　as　he　waited　for　something。　The　dragon？
　　　　　　　Simon　let　his　fingers　trail　away　from　the　cat's　back　and　down　Guthwulf's　arm　until　they　reached　Bright…Nail。　The　earl　moaned；　but　did　not　resist　as　Simon　gently　pried　his　fingers　away。　His　finger　reverently　traced　the　rough　shape　of　the　Nail；　bound　just　below　the　guard。　A　nail　from　the　Execution　Tree　of　holy　Usires！　And　some　sacred　relic　of　Saint　Eahlstan　was　sealed　inside　the　hollow　hilt；　he　remembered。　Prester　John's　sword。　It　was　astonishing　that　a　onetime　scullion　should　ever　touch　such　a　thing！
　　　　　　　Simon　curled　his　hand　around　the　hilt。　It　seemed　to　。。。　fit。　It　lay　in　his　hand　as　fortably　as　though　it　had　been　made　for　him。　All　other　thoughts　about　the　blade；　about　Guthwulf；　slid　away。　He　sat　in　the　dark　and　felt　the　sword　to　be　an　extension　of　his　own　arm；　of　himself。　He　stood；　ignoring　his　aching　muscles；　and　slashed　at　the　lightless　void　before　him。　A　moment　later；　horrified　at　the　thought　that　he　might　accidentally　strike　Bright…Nail　against　the　rock　wall　of　the　cavern　and　blunt　its　edge；　he　sat　down　again；　then　crawled　away　to　his　corner　of　the　cavern　and　stretched　out　on　the　stone；　clutching　the　sword　to　him　as　though　it　were　a　child。　The　metal　was　cold　where　it　touched　his　skin；　and　the　blade　was　sharp；　but　he　did　not　want　to　let　it　go。　Across　the　chamber；　Guthwulf　murmured　unfortably。
　　　　　　　
Some　time　had　passed；　although　Simon　did　not　know　whether　he　had　slept　or　not；　when　he　suddenly　became　aware　that　something　was　missing：　he　could　no　longer　hear　the　earl　breathing。　For　a　moment；