srdonaldson.thepowerthatpreserves-第51部分

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ing；　and　his　hands　flinched　distractedly　in　front　of　him；　seeking　something　impossible　in　the　air；　something　that　would　not　break。　And　the　gates　moaned　at　him　as　if　they　were　witnessing　to　the　truth　of　his　distress。
　　　　〃We　cannot；〃　he　went　on。　〃Cannot。　Such　force！　May　the　stones　forgive　me！　I　am…we　are　unequal　to　this　stress。〃
　　　　Quaan　turned　sharply　on　his　heel　and　strode　away；　shouting　for　timbers　and　Hirebrands　to　shore　up　the　gates。
　　　　But　Tohrm　did　not　seem　to　hear　the　Warmark。　His　wet　gaze　held　Mhoram　as　he　whispered；　〃We　are　prevented。　Something　ill　maims　our　strength。　We　do　not　prehend…　High　Lord；　is　there　other　wrong　here？　Other　wrong　than　weight　and　dead　violence？　I　hear…all　Revelstone's　great　rock　cries　out　to　me　of　evil。〃
　　　　High　Lord　Mhoram's　senses　veered；　and　he　swung　into　resonance　with　the　gut…rock　of　the　Keep　as　if　he　were　melding　himself　with　the　stone。　He　felt　all　the　weight　of　samadhi's　dead　concentrated　as　if　it　were　impending　squarely　against　him；　he　felt　his　own　soul　gates　groaning；　detonating；　cracking。　For　an　instant；　like　an　ignition　of　prophecy；　he　became　the　Keep；　took　its　life　and　pain　into　himself；　experienced　the　horrific　might　which　threatened　to　rend　it…and　something　else；　too；　something　distinct；　private；　terrible。　When　he　heard　frantic　feet　clattering　toward　him　along　the　main　hall；　he　knew　that　Tohrm　had　glimpsed　the　truth。
　　　　One　of　the　two　men　Mhoram　had　sent　to　watch　over　Trell　dashed　forward；　jerked　to　a　halt。　His　face　was　as　white　as　terror；　and　he　could　hardly　thrust　words　stuttering　through　his　teeth。
　　　　〃High　Lord；　e！　He！…the　Close！　Oh；　help　him！〃
　　　　Amatin　covered　her　head　with　her　arms　as　if　she　could　not　bear　any　more。　But　the　High　Lord　said；　〃I　hear　you。　Remember　who　you　are。　Speak　clearly。〃
　　　　The　man　gulped　sickly　several　times。　〃Trell…you　sent…he　immolates　himself。　He　will　destroy　the　Close。〃
　　　　A　hoarse　cry　broke　from　Tohrm；　and　Amatin　gasped；　〃Melenkurion！〃　Mhoram　stared　at　the　warrior　as　if　he　could　not　believe　what　he　had　heard。　But　he　believed　it；　he　felt　the　truth　of　it。　He　was　appalled　by　the　dreadful　understanding　that　this　knowledge　also　had　e　too　late。　Once　again；　he　had　failed　of　foresight；　failed　to　meet　the　needs　of　the　Keep。　Spun　by　irrefusable　exigencies；　he　wheeled　on　Lord　Trevor　and　demanded；　〃Where　is　Loerya？〃
　　　　For　the　first　time　since　his　rescue；　Trevor's　exaltation　wavered。　He　stood　in　his　own　blood　as　if　his　injury　had　no　power　to　hurt　him；　but　the　mention　of　his　wife　pained　him　like　a　flaw　in　his　new　courage。　〃She；〃　he　began；　then　stopped　to　swallow　thickly。　〃She　has　left　the　Keep。　Last　night…she　took　the　children　upland…to　find　a　place　of　hiding。　So　that　they　would　be　safe。〃
　　　　〃By　the　Seven！''　Mhoram　barked；　raging　at　all　his　failures　rather　than　at　Trevor。　〃She　is　needed！〃　Revelstone's　situation　was　desperate；　and　neither　Trevor　nor　Amatin　were　in　any　condition　to　go　on　fighting。　For　an　instant；　Mhoram　felt　that　the　dilemma　could　not　be　resolved；　that　he　could　not　make　these　decisions　for　the　Keep。　But　he　was　Mhoram　son　of　Variol；　High　Lord　by　the　choice　of　the　Council。　He　had　said　to　the　warrior：　Remember　who　you　are。　He　had　said　it　to　Tohrm。　He　was　High　Lord　Mhoram；　incapable　of　surrender。　He　struck　the　stone　with　his　staff　so　that　its　iron　heel　rang；　and　sprang　to　his　work。
　　　　〃Lord　Trevor；　can　you　hold　the　gates？〃
　　　　Trevor　met　Mhoram's　gaze。　〃Do　not　fear；　High　Lord。　If　they　can　be　held；　I　will　hold　them。〃
　　　　〃Good。〃　The　High　Lord　turned　his　back　on　the　courtyard。　〃Lord　Amatin…Hearthrall　Tohrm…will　you　aid　me？〃
　　　　For　answer；　Tohrm　met　the　outreach　of　Amatin's　arm　and　helped　her　to　her　feet。
　　　　Taking　the　fear…blanched　warrior　by　the　arm；　Mhoram　hastened　away　into　the　Keep。
　　　　As　he　strode　through　the　halls　toward　the　Close；　he　asked　the　warrior　to　tell　him　what　had　happened。　〃He…it…''　the　man　stammered。　But　then　he　seemed　to　draw　a　measure　of　steadiness　from　Mhoram's　grip。　〃It　surpassed　me；　High　Lord。〃
　　　　〃What　has　happened？〃　repeated　Mhoram　firmly。
　　　　〃At　your　mand；　we　followed　him。　When　he　learned　that　we　did　not　mean　to　leave　him；　he　reviled　us。　But　his　cursing　showed　us　a　part　of　the　reason　for　your　mand。　We　were　resolved　to　obey　you。　At　last　he　turned　from　us　like　a　broken　man　and　led　us　to　the　Close。
　　　　〃There　he　went　to　the　great　graveling　pit　and　knelt　beside　it。　While　we　watched　over　him　from　the　doors；　he　wept　and　prayed；　begging。　High　Lord；　it　is　in　my　heart　that　he　begged　for　peace。　But　he　found　no　peace。　When　he　raised　his　head；　we　saw…we　saw　abomination　in　his　face。　He…the　graveling…flame　came　from　the　fire…stones。　Fire　sprang　from　the　floor。　We　ran　down　to　him。　But　the　flames　forbade　us。　They　consumed　my　rade。　I　ran　to　you。〃
　　　　The　words　chilled　Mhoram's　heart；　but　he　replied　to　meet　the　pain　and　faltering　in　the　warrior's　face。　〃His　Oath　of　Peace　was　broken。　He　lost　self…trust；　and　fell　into　despair。　This　is　the　shadow　of　the　Gray　Slayer　upon　him。〃
　　　　After　a　moment；　the　warrior　said　hesitantly；　〃I　have　heard…it　is　said…is　this　not　the　Unbeliever's　doing？〃
　　　　〃Perhaps。　In　some　measure；　the　Unbeliever　is　Lord　Foul's　doing。　But　Trell's　despair　is　also　in　part　my　doing。　It　is　Trell's　own　doing。　The　Slayer's　great　strength　is　that　our　mortal　weakness　may　be　so　turned　against　us。〃
　　　　He　spoke　as　calmly　as　he　could；　but　before　he　was　within　a　hundred　yards　of　the　Close；　he　began　to　feel　the　heat　of　the　flames。　He　had　no　doubt　that　this　was　the　source　of　the　other　ill　Tohrm　had　sensed。　Hot　waves　of　desecration　radiated　in　all　directions　from　the　council　chamber。　As　he　neared　the　high　wooden　doors；　he　saw　that　they　were　smoldering；　nearly　aflame；　and　the　walls　shimmered　as　if　the　stone　were　about　to　melt。　He　was　panting　for　breath；　wincing　against　the　heat；　even　before　he　reached　the　open　doorway　and　looked　down　into　the　Close。
　　　　An　inferno　raged　within　it。　Floor；　tables；　seats…all　burned　madly；　spouted　roaring　flames　like　a　convulsion　of　thunder。　Heat　scorched　Mhoram's　face；　crisped　his　hair。　He　had　to　blink　tears　away　before　he　could　peer　down　through　the　conflagration　to　its　center。
　　　　There　Trell　stood　in　the　graveling　pit　like　the　core　of　a　holocaust；　bursting　with　flames　and　hurling　great　gouts　of　fire　at　the　ceiling　with　both　fists。　His　whole　form　blazed　like　incarnated　damnation；　white…hot　torment　striking　out　at　the　stone　it　loved　and　could　not　save。
　　　　The　sheer　power　of　it　staggered　Mhoram。　He　was　looking　at　the　onset　of　a　Ritual　of　Desecration。　Trell　had　found　in　his　own　despair　the　secret　which　Mhoram　had　guarded　so　fearfully；　and　he　was　using　that　secret　against　Revelstone。　If　he　were　not　stopped；　the　gates　would　only　be　the　first　part　of　the　Keep　to　break；　the　first　and　least　link　in　a　chain　of　destruction　which　might　tear　the　whole　plateau　to　rubble。
　　　　He　had　to　be　stopped。　That　was　imperative。　But　Mhoram　was　not　a　Gravelingas；　had　no　stone…lore　to　counter　the　might　which　made　this　fire　possible。　He　turned　to　Tohrm。
　　　　〃You　are　of　the　rhadhamaerl！''　he　shouted　over　the　raving　of　the　fire。　〃You　must　silence　this　flame！〃
　　　　〃Silence　it？〃　Tohrm　was　staring；　aghast；　into　the　blaze；　he　had　the　stricken　look　of　a　man　witnessing　the　ravage　of　his　dearest　love。　〃Silence　it？〃　He　did　not　shout；　Mhoram　could　only　prehend　him　by　reading　his　lips。　〃I　have　no　strength　to　equal　this。　I　am　a　Gravelingas　of　the　rhadhamaerl…not　Earthpower　incarnate。　He　will　destroy　us　all。〃
　　　　〃Tohrm！〃　the　High　Lord　cried。　〃You　are　the　Hearthrall　of　Lord's　Keep！　You　or　no　one　can　meet　this　need！〃
　　　　Tohrm　mouthed　soundlessly；　〃How？〃
　　　　〃I　will　acpany　you！　I　will　give　you　my　strength…I　will　place　all　my　power　in　you！〃
　　　　The　Hearthrall's　eyes　rolled　fearfully　away　from　the　Close　and　hauled　themselves　by　sheer　force　of　will　into　focus　on　the　High　Lord's　face。
　　　　〃We　will　burn。〃
　　　　〃We　will　endure！〃
　　　　Tohrm　met　Mhoram's　demand　for　a　long　moment。　Then　he　groaned。　He　could　not　refuse　to　give　himself　for　the　sake　of　the　Keep'　s　stone。　〃　If　you　are　with　me；〃　he　said　silently　through　the　roar。
　　　　Mhoram　whirled　to　Amatin。　〃Tohrm　and　I　will　go　into　the　Close。　You　must　preserve　us　from　the　fire。　Put　your　power　around　us…protect　us。〃
　　　　She　nodded　distractedly；　pushed　a　damp　strand　of　hair　out　of　her　face。　〃Go；〃　she　said　weakly。　〃Already　the　table　melts。〃
　　　　The　High　Lord　saw　that　she　was　right。　Before　their　eyes；　the　table　slumped　into　magma；　poured　down　to　the　lowest　level　of　the　Close　and　into　the　pit　around　Trell's　feet。
　　　　Mhoram　called　his　power　into　readiness　and　rested　the　shaft　of　his　staff　on　Tohrm's　shoulder。　Together；　they　faced　the　Close；　waited　while　Amatin　built　a　defense　around　them。　The　sensation　of　it　swarmed　over　their　skin　like　hiving　insects；　but　it　kept　back　the　heat。
　　　　When　she　signaled　to　them；　they　started　down　into　the　Close　as　if　they　were　struggling　into　a　furnace。
　　　　Despite　Amatin's　protection；　the　heat　slammed　into　them　like　the　fist　of　a　cataclysm。　Tohrm's　tunic　began　to　scorch。　Mhoram　felt　his　own　robe　blackening。　All　the　hair　on　their　heads　and　arms　shriveled。　But　the　High　Lord　put　heat　out　of　his　mind；　he　concentrated　on　his　staff　and　Tohrm。　He　could　feel　the　Hearthrall　singing　now；　though　he　heard　nothing　but　the　deep；　ravenous　howl　of　the　blaze。　Tuning　his　power　to　the　pitch　of　Tohrm's　song；　he　sent　all　his　resources　running　through　it。
　　　　The　savage　flames　backed　slightly　away　from　them　as　they　moved；　and　patches　of　unburned　rock　appeared　like　stepping…stones　under　Tohrm's　feet。　They　walked　downward　like　a　gap　in　the　hell　of　Trell's　rage。
　　　　But　the　conflagration　sealed　behind　them　instantly。　As　they　drew　farther　from　the　doors；　Amatin's　defense　weakened；　distance　and　flame　interfered。　Mhoram's　flesh　stung　where　his　robe　smoldered　against　it；　and　his　eyes　hurt　so　badly　that　he　could　no　longer　see。　Tohrm's　song　became　more　and　more　like　a　scream　as　they　descended。　By　the　time　they　reached　the　level　of　the　pit；　where　Loric's　krill　still　stood　embedded　in　its　stone；　Mhoram　knew　that　if　he　did　not　take　his　strength　away　from　Tohrm　and　use　it　for　protection　they　would　both　roast　at　Trell's　feet。
　　　　〃Trell！〃　Tohrm　screamed　soundlessly。　〃You　are　a　Gravelingas　of　the　rhadhamaerl！　Do　not　do　this！〃
　　　　For　an　ins