tw.togreenangeltower2-第20节

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　　　　　　　Simon　snorted。　〃I'm　certain　you　would。　Let's　toss　him　out；　Miriamele。　If　he　isn't　the　one　who　followed　us；　there's　no　reason　to　keep　him。〃
　　　　　　　〃There's　a　perfectly　good　reason。　He's　an　old　man　and　he's　frightened。　You　forget；　Simon；　I've　seen　the　Fire　Dancers　and　you　haven't。　Don't　be　cruel　just　because　you're　in　a　bad　mood。〃　She　gave　him　a　stem　look；　but　Simon　thought　he　saw　a　tiny　flash　of　knowing　amusement　in　it。
　　　　　　　〃No；　don't　send　me　out　to　those　Fire　Dancers；〃　Heanwig　begged。　〃They　burned　Wiclaf；　they　did。　I　saw　it。　And　him　not　harming　nobody。　They　lit　him　on　fire　down　Pulley　Road；　screaming　'Here's　what's　ing！　Here's　what's　ing！'〃　Heanwig　trailed　off；　shuddering。　What　had　started　out　as　a　self…serving　justification　had　bee　real　as　the　memory　played　out　before　his　mind's　eye。　〃Don't　send　me　away；　masters。　I'll　never　speak　no　word。〃　His　abrupt　sincerity　was　apparent。
　　　　　　　Simon　looked　from　Miriamele　to　the　old　man；　then　back　to　the　princess。　He　had　been　neatly　outflanked。　〃Oh；　very　well。〃　he　growled。　〃But　I'm　staying　up　on　first　watch；　old　man；　and　if　you　do　anything　the　least　bit　suspicious；　you'll　be　out　that　door　and　into　the　cold　so　fast　your　head　will　spin。〃
He　gave　Miriamele　a　last　look　pounded　of　annoyance　and　longing；　then　settled　back　against　the　shed　door。
　　　　　　　Simon　awoke　in　the　early　morning　to　discover　Miriamele　and　the　old　man　both　up　and　chatting　amiably。　Simon　thought　that　Heanwig　looked　even　worse　in　daylight；　his　seamed　features　smudged　with　dirt；　his　clothes　so　tattered　and　soiled　that　even　poverty　could　not　excuse　it。
　　　　　　　〃You　should　e　with　us；〃　Miriamele　was　saying。　〃You'll　be　safer　than　by　yourself。　At　least　join　us　until　you're　far　away　from　the　Fire　Dancers。〃
　　　　　　　The　old　man　shook　his　head　doubtfully。　〃Those　mad　folk　be　most　everywhere；　these　days。〃
　　　　　　　Simon　sat　up。　His　mouth　was　dry　and　his　head　hurt；　as　though　he　were　the　drunkard　of　the　pany。　〃What　are　you　saying？　You　can't　bring　him　with　us。〃
〃I　certainly　can；〃　said　Miriamele。　〃You　may　acpany　me；　Simon；　but　you　may　not　tell　me　where　I　can　go　or　who　I　can　bring　along。〃
　　　　　　　Simon　stared　at　her　for　a　moment；　sensing　an　argument　that　he　had　no　hope　of　winning；　no　matter　what　he　did。　He　was　still　weighing　his　next　words　when　he　was　saved　from　the　useless　engagement　by　Heanwig。
　　　　　　　〃Are　you　bound　for　Nabban？〃　the　old　man　asked。　〃I　never　have　seen　those　parts。〃
　　　　　　　〃We're　going　to　Falshire；〃　Miriamele　said。　〃Then　on　to　Hasu　Vale。〃
　　　　　　　Simon　was　just　about　to　upbraid　her　for　telling　this　plete　stranger　their　travel　plans…what　had　happened　to　the　need　for　caution　she　had　lectured　him　about？…when　the　old　man　made　a　gasping　noise。　Simon　turned；　angry　already　at　the　thought　that　the　old　tosspot　was　now　going　to　be　sick　right　in　front　of　them；　but　was　startled　by　the　look　of　horror　on　Heanwig's　mottled　face。
　　　　　　　〃Going　to　Hasu　Vale！？〃　His　voice　rose。　〃What；　be　ye　mad？　That　whole　valley　runs　haunted。〃　He　scrambled　a　cubit　toward　the　door；　grasping　fruitlessly　for　a　handhold　in　the　moldering　straw　beneath　him；　as　though　the　two　travelers　had　threatened　to　drag　him　to　the　hated　place　by　force。　〃Sooner　I'd　crawl　down　into　quarry　with　those　Fire　Dancers。〃
　　　　　　　〃What　do　you　mean；　haunted？〃　Miriamele　demanded。　〃We've　heard　that　before。　What　does　it　mean？〃
　　　　　　　The　old　man　stared　at　her；　eyes　rolling　to　show　the　whites。　〃Haunted！　Bad　'uns；　bogies　from　out　the　lich…yard。　Witches　and　suchlike！〃
　　　　　　　Miriamele　stared　at　him　hard。　After　a　year　like　the　last　one；　she　was　not　inclined　to　dismiss　such　talk　as　superstition。　〃We're　going　there；〃　she　said　at　last。　〃We　have　to。　But　you　don't　have　to　travel　any　farther　than　you　want　to。〃
　　　　　　　Heanwig　got　shakily　to　his　feet。　〃Don't　want　to　go　west'ard。　Heanwig'll　stay　here'bouts。　There's　folk　in　Stanshire　as　still　have　a　morsel　to　spare；　or　a　drop；　even　in　bad　times。〃　He　shook　his　head。　〃Don't　go　there；　young　mistress。　You　been　kind。〃　He　looked　pointedly　at　Simon　to　make　it　clear　who　had　not　been。
　　　　　　　The　old　sot；　Simon　thought　grumpily。　Who　gave　him　the　wine；　anyway？　Who　didn't　break　his　head　when　he　could　have？
　　　　　　　〃Go　south…you'll　be　happy　there；〃　Heanwig　continued；　almost　pleading。　〃Stay　out　the　Vale。〃
　　　　　　　〃We　must　go；〃　said　Miriamele。　〃But　we　won't　make　you　e。〃
　　　　　　　Heanwig　had　been　sidling　toward　the　door。　Now　he　stopped　with　his　hand　already　on　the　wood　and　ducked　his　head。　〃I　thank　you；　young　mistress。　Aedon's　Light　be　on　you。〃　He　paused；　at　a　loss　for　words。　〃Hope　you　e　back　again　safe。〃
　　　　　　　〃Thank　you；　too；　Heanwig；〃　Miriamele　replied　solemnly。
　　　　　　　Simon　suppressed　a　groan　of　irritation；　reminding　himself　that　a　knight　did　not　make　faces　and　noises　like　a　scullion　did…especially　a　knight　who　wished　to　stay　on　the　good　side　of　his　lady。　And　at　least　the　old　man　apparently　would　not　be　traveling　with　them。　That　was　an　acceptable　reward　for　a　little　forbearance。

　　　　　　　As　they　rode　out　of　Stanshire　into　the　countryside；　the　rain　began　to　fall　once　more。　At　first　it　was　little　more　than　a　flurry　of　drops；　but　by　the　time　mid…morning　came；　it　was　falling　in　great　sheets。　The　wind　rose；　carrying　the　rain　toward　them　in　cold；　cascading　slaps　of　water。
　　　　　　　〃This　is　as　bad　as　being　on　a　ship　in　storm；〃　Miriamele　shouted。
　　　　　　　〃At　least　on　a　ship　you　have　oars；〃　Simon　called　back。　〃We're　going　to　need　some　soon。〃
　　　　　　　Miriamele　laughed；　pulling　her　hood　down　low　over　her　eyes。　Simon　felt　warmer　just　knowing　he　had　amused　her。　He　had　been　feeling　a　little　ashamed　of　the　way　he　had　treated　the　old　man；　almost　as　soon　as　Heanwig　had　gone　shuffling　away　down　the　lane；　heading　back　toward　the　center　of　Stanshire；　Simon　had　felt　his　bad　temper　evaporate。　It　was　hard　to　say　now　what　it　was　about　the　old　man　that　had　so　perturbed　him…he　hadn't　really　done　anything。
　　　　　　　They　headed　back　toward　the　River　Road　along　a　succession　of　wagon…rutted　lanes　that　now　were　little　more　than　sluices　of　mud。　The　countryside　began　to　look　more　wild。　The　farmlands　around　Stanshire；　although　mostly　given　over　to　weeds；　still　bore　the　mark　of　past　human　care　in　the　fences　and　stone　walls　and　an　occasional　cottage；　but　as　the　town　and　its　outlying　settlements　fell　away　behind　them；　the　wilderness　reasserted　itself。
　　　　　　　It　was　a　peculiarly　bleak　place。　The　nearly　endless　winter　had　stripped　all　of　the　trees　but　the　evergreens；　and　even　the　pines　and　firs　seemed　to　have　suffered　unkind　handling。　Simon　thought　the　strange；　twisted　shape　of　the　trunks　and　branches　resembled　the　writhing　human　bodies　in　the　mural　of　The　Day　of　Weighing…Out　which　stretched　across　the　wall　of　the　Hayholt's　chapel。　He　had　spent　many　a　boring　hour　in　church　staring　in　fascination　at　the　scenes　of　torment；　marveling　at　the　invention　of　the　anonymous　artist。　But　here　in　the　real；　cold；　wet　world；　the　gnarled　shapes　were　mostly　disheartening。　Leafless　oaks　and　elms　and　ash　trees　loomed　against　the　sky；　skeletal　hands　that　clenched　and　unclenched　as　the　wind　bent　them。　With　the　sky　bruised　almost　black　by　clouds　and　the　rain　flung　slantwise　across　the　muddied　hillsides；　it　made　a　much　drearier　picture　than　even　the　decorations　in　the　chapel。
　　　　　　　Simon　and　Miriamele　rode　on　through　the　storm；　mostly　unspeaking。　Simon　was　chagrined　that　the　princess　had　not　once　mentioned；　or　even　hinted　at；　their　kiss　of　the　night　before。　It　was　not　a　day　conducive　to　flirtatious　conversation；　he　knew；　but　she　seemed　to　be　pretending　it　had　never　even　happened。　Simon　did　not　know　what　to　do　about　this：　several　times　he　was　on　the　verge　of　asking　her；　but　he　could　not　think　of　anything　to　say　about　it　that　would　not　sound　stupid　in　the　light　of　day。　That　kiss　had　been　a　bit　like　his　arrival　in　Jao　e…Tinukai'i；　a　moment　in　which　he　had　stepped　out　of　time。　Perhaps；　like　a　trip　to　a　fairy…hill；　what　they　had　shared　the　night　before　had　been　something　magical；　something　destined　to　fade　as　quickly　from　memory　as　an　icicle　melting　in　the　sun。
　　　　　　　No。　I　won't　let　it　fade。　I'll　remember　it　always　。　。。　even　if　she　doesn't。
　　　　　　　He　stole　a　glance　at　Miriamele。　Most　of　her　face　was　hidden　by　the　hood；　but　he　could　see　her　nose　and　part　of　her　cheek　and　her　sharp　chin。　She　looked　almost　Silha…like；　he　thought；　graceful　and　beautiful；　yet　not　quite　knowable。　What　was　going　on　in　her　head？　How　could　she　cling　to　him　as　she　had；　then　say　nothing　about　it　afterward；　until　he　wondered　if　he　had　dreamed　the　whole　thing　or　was　going　mad？　Surely　she　had　returned　that　kiss　as　eagerly　as　he　had　given　it？　Little　as　he　knew　of　women　and　kissing；　he　could　not　believe　that　the　way　she　had　responded　meant　nothing。
　　　　　　　Why　don't　I　just　ask　her？　I'll　go　mad　if　I　don't　find　out。　But　what　if　she　laughs　at　me；　or　gets　angry…or　doesn't　remember？
　　　　　　　The　idea　that　Miriamele　might　have　no　strong　emotions　corresponding　to　the　feelings　that　churned　within　him　was　chilling。　His　resolve　to　make　her　talk　abruptly　vanished。　He　would　think　about　it　more。
　　　　　　　But　I　want　to　kiss　her　again。
　　　　　　　He　sighed。　The　sound　was　lost　in　the　hissing　tumult　of　the　rain。

　　　　　　　The　River　Road　was　muddy　and　almost　entirely　empty；　as　Simon　had　predicted；　they　passed　fewer　than　a　dozen　other　travelers　all　day。　Only　one　man　bothere