tw.thestoneoffarewell-第26部分

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shed　face。　And　Nenais'u；　sprawled　lifeless　on　the　greensward：　was　that　not　Maegwin　herself？
　　Amoran　had　stopped。　Maegwin　opened　her　eyes；　not　knowing　how　long　the　music　had　been　silent。
　　〃When　Drukhi　died　avenging　his　wife；〃　she　said　as　if　continuing　an　earlier　conversation；　〃his　family　could　not　live　with　Nenais'u's　family　anymore。〃
　　Amoran　and　Craobhan　exchanged　glances。　She　ignored　them　and　went　on。
　　〃I　remember　the　story　now。　My　nurse　used　to　sing　the　song　to　me。　Drukhi's　family　fled　away　from　their　enemies；　went　far　away　to　live　apart。〃　After　a　pause；　she　turned　to　look　at　Craobhan。　〃When　will　Eolair　and　the　others　return　from　their　expedition？〃
　　The　old　man　counted　on　his　fingers。　〃They　should　be　back　by　the　new　moon；　in　a　little　less　than　a　fortnight。〃
　　Maegwin　stood　up。　〃Some　of　these　caverns　run　deep　into　the　mountain's　heart；〃　she　said。　〃Is　that　not　true？〃
　　〃There　were　always　deep　places　in　the　Grianspog；〃　Craobhan　nodded　slowly；　trying　to　understand　her。　〃And　some　were　delved　even　deeper；　for　mining。〃
　　〃Then　we　will　start　exploring　tomorrow　at　dawn。　By　the　time　the　count　and　his　men　e　back；　we　will　be　ready　to　move。〃
　　〃Move？〃　Craobhan　squinted；　surprised。　〃Move　where；　Lady　Maegwin？〃
　　〃Farther　into　the　mountains；〃　she　said。　〃It　came　to　me　as　Arnoran　sang。　We　Hernystiri　are　like　Drukhi's　family　in　the　song：　we　cannot　live　here　anymore。〃　She　rubbed　her　hands　together；　trying　to　ward　off　the　chill　of　the　cavern。　〃King　Elias　has　destroyed　his　brother　Josua。　Now　there　is　nothing　and　no　one　left　to　drive　Skali　away。〃
　　〃But　my　lady！〃　Amoran　said；　startled　into　interrupting　her。　〃Still　there　is　Eolair；　and　with　him　many　other　brave　Hernystirmen　remaining。。。〃
　　〃…There　is　no　one　to　drive　Skali　away；〃　she　continued　harshly；　〃and　the　Thane　of　Kaldskryke　will　doubtless　find　Hernystir's　meadows　a　more　hospitable　home　in　this　freezing　summer　than　his　own　lands　in　Rimmersgard。　If　we　stay　here；　we　shall　be　trapped　eventually；　slaughtered　before　our　caves　like　rabbits。〃　Her　voice　grew　stronger。　〃But　if　we　go　deeper；　they　will　never　find　us。　Then　Hernystir　will　survive；　far　away　from　the　madness　of　Elias　and　Skali　and　the　rest！〃
　　Old　Craobhan　looked　up　at　her　worriedly。　She　knew　he　was　wondering　what　everyone　else　wondered：　had　Maegwin　been　unbalanced　by　her　losses…by　all　their　losses？
　　Perhaps　I　have；　she　thought；　but　not　in　this。　In　this；　I　am　sure　I　am　right。
　　〃But；　Lady　Maegwin；〃　the　old　counselor　said；　〃how　will　we　eat？　What　will　we　do　for　cloth；　for　grain。。。　？〃
　　〃You　said　it　yourself；〃　she　responded；　〃The　mountains　are　shot　through　with　tunnels。　If　we　learn　and　explore　them；　we　can　live　deep　in　stone　and　be　safe　from　Skali；　yet　e　out　wherever　we　wish…to　hunt；　to　gather　stores；　even　to　raid　Kaldskryke's　own　camps　if　we　choose！〃
　　〃But　。　。　。　but　。　。　。〃　The　old　man　turned　to　Arnoran；　but　the　harper　could　offer　no　support。　〃But　what　will　your　mother　Inahwen　think　of　such　a　plan？〃　he　said　at　last。
　　Maegwin　snorted　in　contempt。　〃My　stepmother　spends　her　days　sitting　with　the　other　women；　plaining　about　how　hungry　she　is。　Inahwen　is　less　use　than　a　child。〃
　　〃Then　what　will　Eolair　think？　What　of　the　brave　count？〃
　　Maegwin　stared　at　Craobhan's　shaking　hands；　his　rheumy　old　eyes。　For　a　moment　she　felt　sorry　for　him；　but　that　did　not　quell　her　anger。　〃What　the　Count　of　Nad　Mullach　thinks；　he　may　tell　us…but　remember；　Craobhan：　he　does　not　mand　me。　He　has　taken　the　oath　to　my　father's　house。　Eolair　will　do　what　I　say！〃
　　She　walked　away；　leaving　the　two　men　whispering　beside　the　fire。　The　biting　chill　outside　the　cave　could　not　cool　her　heated　face；　even　though　she　stood　in　the　snowy　wind　for　a　long　time。
　　
　　
　　Earl　Guthwulf　of　Utanyeat　awakened　to　hear　the　Hayholt's　midnight　bell；　high　above　in　Green　Angel　Tower；　shuddering　into　silence。
　　Guthwulf　closed　his　eyes；　waiting　for　sleep　to　return；　but　slumber　was　elusive。　Picture　after　picture　appeared　before　his　shuttered　gaze；　images　of　battles　and　tournaments；　the　dry　repetitions　of　court　etiquette；　the　chaos　of　the　hunt。　Foremost　in　every　scene　was　King　Elias'　face…the　flash　of　panicky　relief；　quickly　hidden；　that　had　greeted　Guthwulf　as　he　broke　through　a　ring　of　attackers　to　rescue　his　friend　during　the　Thrithings　wars；　the　blank；　black　stare　with　which　Elias　received　confirmation　of　his　wife　Hylissa's　death；　and　most　disturbing　of　all；　the　secretive；　gleeful；　yet　at　the　same　moment　shamefaced　stare　that　the　king　now　wore　whenever　he　and　Guthwulf　met。
　　The　earl　sat　up；　cursing。　Sleep　had　fled　and　would　not　return　soon。
　　He　did　not　light　the　lamp；　but　dressed　in　darkness；　relying　on　the　sprinkle　of　starlight　from　the　narrow　window　to　help　him　step　over　his　manservant；　who　lay　dozing　on　the　floor　at　the　foot　of　Guthwulf　s　bed。　He　pulled　a　cloak　over　his　nightshirt　and　donned　a　pair　of　slippers；　then　made　his　way　out　into　the　corridor。　Addled　with　such　foolish；　troubled　thoughts；　he　decided　he　might　as　well　walk　for　an　hour。
　　The　halls　of　the　Hayholt　were　empty；　with　not　a　guard　or　servant　in　sight。　Here　and　there　torches　burned　fitfully　in　their　wall　sconces；　consumed　almost　to　the　socket。　The　halls　were　untenanted；　but　still　faint　murmurs　swept　through　the　darkened　passageways…voice　of　sentries　on　the　walls；　the　earl　decided；　rendered　bodiless　and　spectral　by　distance。
　　Guthwulf　shivered。　What　I　need　is　a　woman；　he　thought。　A　warm　body　in　the　bed；　a　prattling　voice　to　silence　when　I　wish　and　to　fill　the　quiet　when　I　let。　This　monkish　living　would　unman　anyone。
　　He　turned　and　strode　down　the　hall；　heading　for　the　servant's　quarters。　There　was　a　saucy；　curly…headed　chambermaid　who　wouldn't　say　no…hadn't　she　told　him　her　intended　had　died　at　Bullback　Hill；　that　she　was　all　alone？
　　If　that　one　is　in　mourning…hah！　Then　I　will　bee　a　monk！
　　
　　The　great　door　to　the　servant's　quarters　was　locked。　Guthwulf　snarled　and　tugged；　but　the　bolt　was　shot　on　the　inner　side。　He　contemplated　banging　on　the　heavy　oak　with　his　fist　until　someone　came　to　open　it…someone　who　would　swiftly　feel　Utanyeat's　wrath…but　decided　against　it。　Something　about　Hayholt's　silent　corridors　made　him　unwilling　to　attract　attention。　Besides；　he　told　himself；　the　curly…haired　wench　was　not　worth　the　beating　down　of　doors。
　　He　stepped　away；　rubbing　his　bristled　chin；　and　saw　something　pale　moving　at　the　turning　of　the　hall；　near　the　edge　of　his　vision。　He　whirled；　startled；　but　found　nothing　there。　He　walked　a　few　steps　and　leaned　around　the　corner。　The　hall　beyond　was　also　empty。　A　breathless　whisper　drifted　along　the　passageway…a　woman's　low　voice；　muttering　as　if　in　pain。　Guthwulf　turned　on　his　heel　and　stalked　back　toward　his　chamber。
　　Night　tricks；　he　grumbled　to　himself。　Doors　locked；　corridors　empty…the　whole　damnable；　Bleeding　Usires　castle　might　as　well　be　deserted！
　　He　stopped；　suddenly；　looking　around。　What　hallway　was　this？　He　did　not　recognize　the　polished　tiles；　the　oddly…shaped　banners　hanging　shadowed　on　the　dark　wall。　Unless　he　had　made　a　wrong　turning　and　lost　his　way；　this　should　be　the　chapel's　walking…hall。　He　retraced　his　way　back　to　the　forking　of　the　hall　and　turned；　taking　the　other　route。　Now；　although　this　new　corridor　was　featureless　but　for　a　few　window…slits；　he　was　sure　he　had　found　his　way　once　more。
　　He　grabbed　at　the　base　of　one　of　the　windows　and　pulled　himself　up；　hanging　by　his　strong　arms。　Outside　would　be　either　the　front　or　side　of　the　chapel　courtyard。　。　。　。
　　Startled；　Guthwulf　let　go　and　slid　the　short　distance　back　to　the　ground。　His　knees　buckled；　dropping　him　to　the　floor。　He　rolled　quickly　to　his　feet；　heart　pounding；　and　reached　for　the　window　slit　to　haul　himself　up　again。
　　It　was　the　chapel　courtyard；　sunk　in　deep　night；　just　as　it　should　be。
　　But　what　then　had　he　seen　the　first　time？　There　had　been　white　walls　and　the　forest　of　looming　spires　that　he　had　first　taken　for　trees；　then　recognized　in　an　instant　later　as　towers…a　forest　of　slim　minarets；　ivory　needles　that　caught　the　moonlight　and　glowed　as　if　full…charged　with　it！　The　Hayholt　had　no　such　towers！
　　But　there！　Again　the　evidence　of　his　eyes　confirmed　that　all　was　right　and　usual。　There　was　the　courtyard；　the　chapel　door　and　awning；　the　shrubs　standing　beside　the　pathways　like　drowsy　sheep。　Beyond；　he　could　just　make　out　the　moonbathed　silhouette　of　Green　Angel　Tower…a　solitary　sky…pointing　finger　where　a　moment　before　he　had　seen　a　dozen　hands　raised　in　supplication。
　　He　dropped　to　his　feet　and　leaned　against　the　cold　stone。　Then　what　had　he　seen　that　first　time？　Night　tricks？　No；　this　was　more！　This　was　sickness；　or　madness　。。。　or　witchcraft！
　　After　a　moment　he　collected　himself。　Steady；　you　fool。　He　stood　up；　shaking　his　head。　These　aren't　the　fruits　of　madness；　but　of　too　much　pondering；　too　much　womanish　worry。　My　sire　used　to　sit　up　at　night　staring　wide…eyed　at　the　fire　and　claimed　he　saw　ghosts　there。　StilI；　he　was　fit　enough　in　his　head　when　he　died；　and　lived　a　full　seventy　summers。　No；　it　is　all　this　thought　about　the　king　that　is　preying　on　me。　Black　witchcraft　may　be　all　around　us…God　knows；　I'm　last　to　argue　against　it　after　what　I've　seen　this　cursed　year…but　not　here　in　the　Hayholt。
　　Guthwulf　knew　the　castle　had　belonged　to　the　Fair　Folk　once；　many　hundreds　of　years　ago；　but　now　it　was　so　wound　about　with　spells　and　charms　against　them　that　surely　there　was　no　other　spot　on　earth　in　which　they　were　less　wele。
　　No；　he　thought；　it　is　the　way　the　king　has　changed　that　fills　my　mind　with　strange　thoughts：　how　Ellas　shifts　from　moment　to　moment；　from　lunatic　anger　to　childish　worry。
　　He　walked　to　the　door　at　the　end　of　the　hallway　and　out　into　the　courtyard。　Everything　was　as　he　had　last　seen　it。　A　solitary　light　burned　in　one　of　the　windows　across　the　garden；　in　the　king's　private　rooms。
　　Elias　is　awake。　He　pondered　this　for　a　moment。　He　has　not　slept　well　since　Josua　first　began　plotting　against　him。
　　Guthwulf　strode　across　the　courtyard　toward　the　king's　residence；　the　unseasonable　breeze　frisking　about　his　bare　ankles。　He　would　talk　to　his　old　friend　Elias；　here　in　the　empty　hours　of　night　when　men　told　the　truth。　He　would　demand　to　know　abo