srdonaldson.thepowerthatpreserves-第56部分

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er；　she　began　to　strip　off　his　attire。
　　　　Slowly；　using　her　own　hesitation　to　enhance　the　thoroughness　of　her　preparations；　she　removed　all　his　raiment　and　bathed　him　from　head　to　foot。　After　cleaning　away　the　cobwebs　and　grime　and　old　sweat　and　encrusted　blood；　she　explored　him　with　her　hands；　probed　him　gently　to　assure　herself　that　she　knew　the　full　extent　of　his　hurts。　The　process　took　time；　but　it　was　done　too　soon　for　her　unready　courage。
　　　　Still　hesitating；　she　unwrapped　from　her　belongings　one　of　her　few　prized　possessions…a　long；　cunningly　woven　white　robe；　made　of　a　fabric　both　light　and　tough；　easy　to　wear　and　full　of　warmth。　It　had　been　given　to　her　decades　ago　by　a　great　weaver　from　Soaring　Woodhelven；　whose　life　she　had　saved　at　severe　cost　to　herself。　The　memory　of　his　gratitude　was　precious　to　her；　and　she　held　the　robe　for　a　long　time　in　hands　that　trembled　agedly。　But　she　was　old　now；　old　and　alone；　she　had　no　need　of　finery。　Her　tattered　cloak　would　serve　her　well　enough　as　either　apparel　or　cerement。　With　an　expansive　look　in　her　loamy　eyes；　she　took　the　robe　to　Covenant　and　dressed　him　tenderly　in　it。
　　　　The　effort　of　moving　his　limp　form　shortened　her　breathing；　and　she　rested　again；　muttering　out　of　old　habit；　〃Ah；　mercy；　mercy。　This　is　work　for　the　young…for　the　young。　I　rest　and　rest；　but　I　do　not　bee　young。　Well；　let　that　pass。　I　did　not　e　to　Morinmoss　in　search　of　youth。　I　came　because　I　had　lost　heart　for　my　work。　Have　I　not　found　it　again…in　all　this　time？　Ah；　but　time　is　no　Healer。　The　body　grows　old…and　now　cruel　winter　enslaves　the　world…and　the　heart　does　not　renew　itself。　Mercy；　mercy。　Courage　belongs　to　the　young；　and　I　am　old…old。
　　　　〃Yet　surely　great　matters　are　afoot…great　and　terrible。　White　gold！　…by　the　Seven！　White　gold。　And　this　winter　is　the　Despiser's　doing；　though　Morinmoss　resists。　Ah；　there　are　terrible　purposes…The　burden　of　this　man　was　put　upon　me　by　a　terrible　purpose。　I　cannot…I　must　not　refuse。　Must　not！　Ah；　mercy；　but　I　am　afraid。　I　am　old…I　have　no　need　to　fear…no；　I　do　not　fear　death。　But　the　pain。　The　pain。　Have　mercy…have　mercy　upon　me；　I　lack　the　courage　for　this　work。〃
　　　　Yet　Covenant　lay　on　her　bed　like　an　irrefusable　demand　molded　of　broken　bone　and　blood　and　mind；　and　after　she　had　dozed　briefly；　she　came　back　to　herself。　〃Well；　that　too　I　must　set　aside。　plaint　also　is　no　Healer。　I　must　set　it　aside；　and　work　my　work。〃
　　　　Stiffly；　she　got　to　her　feet；　went　to　the　far　end　of　the　cave　to　her　supplies　of　firewood。　Even　now；　she　hoped　in　her　heart　that　she　would　find　she　did　hot　have　enough　wood；　then　she　would　need　to　hunt　through　the　Forest　for　fallen　dead　branches　and　twigs　before　she　could　begin　her　main　task。　But　her　woodpile　was　large　enough。　She　could　not　pretend　that　it　justified　any　further　delay。　She　carried　most　of　the　wood　to　her　cookfire　and　faced　the　mencement　of　her　ordeal。
　　　　First　she　took　her　graveling　pot　from　the　shelf　above　Covenant　and　made　a　place　for　it　in　the　center　of　the　fire；　so　that　its　heat　and　light　were　added　to　the　core　of　the　coals。　Then；　panting　already　at　the　thought　of　what　she　meant　to　do；　she　began　to　build　up　the　fire。　She　stoked　it；　concentrated　it　with　dry　hard　wood；　until　its　flames　mounted　toward　the　cave's　ceiling　and　its　heat　drew　sweat　from　her　old　brows。　And　when　the　low　roar　of　its　blaze　sucked　at　the　air；　causing　the　moss　curtains　over　the　entrance　to　flutter　in　the　draft；　she　returned　to　the　pouch　of　powder　from　which　she　had　made　the　broth。　With　her　fist　clenched　in　the　pouch；　she　hesitated　once　more；　faltering　as　if　the　next　step　constituted　an　irretrievable　mitment。　〃Ah；　mercy；〃　she　breathed　brittlely　to　herself。　〃I　must　remember…　remember　that　I　am　alone。　No　one　else　will　tend　him…or　me。　I　must　do　the　work　of　two。　For　this　reason　eremites　do　not　Heal。　I　must　do　the　work。〃
　　　　Panting　in　dismay　at　her　own　audacity；　she　threw　a　small　quantity　of　the　powder　into　the　high　fire。
　　　　At　once；　the　blaze　began　to　change。　The　flames　did　not　die　down；　but　they　muted　themselves；　translated　their　energy　into　a　less　visible　form。　Their　light　turned　from　orange　and　red　and　yellow　to　brown；　a　steadily　deepening　brown；　as　if　they　sprang　now　from　thick　loam　rather　than　from　wood。　And　as　the　brightness　of　the　fire　dimmed；　a　rich　aroma　spread　into　the　cave。　It　tasted　to　the　Healer　like　the　breaking　of　fresh　earth　so　that　seeds　could　be　planted…like　the　lively　imminence　of　seeds　and　buds　and　spring　…like　the　fructifying　of　green　things　which　had　germinated　in　wealthy　soil。　She　could　have　lost　herself　in　that　brown　fragrance；　forgetful　of　Lord　Foul's　winter　and　the　sick　man　and　all　pain。　But　it　was　part　of　her　work。　Through　her　love　for　it；　it　impelled　her　to　Covenant's　side。　There　she　planted　her　feet　and　took　one　last　moment　to　be　sure　of　what　she　meant　to　do。
　　　　His　hands　and　feet　and　face　she　would　not　touch。　They　were　not　crucial　to　his　recovery；　not　worth　what　they　would　cost　her。　And　the　sickness　in　his　mind　was　too　plex　and　multifarious　to　undertake　until　he　was　physically　whole　enough　to　bear　the　strain　of　healing。　So　she　bent　her　loamy　gaze　toward　his　broken　ankle。
　　　　As　she　concentrated　on　that　injury；　the　light　of　the　fire　became　browner；　richer；　more　potent　and　explicit；　until　it　shone　like　the　radiance　of　her　eyes　between　her　face　and　his　ankle。　The　rest　of　the　cave　fell　into　gloom；　soon　only　the　link　of　sight　between　her　attention　and　his　pain　retained　illumination。　It　stretched　between　them；　binding　them　together；　gradually　uniting　their　opposed　pieces　of　need　and　power。　Amid　the　heat　and　fragrancy　of　the　fire；　they　became　like　one　being；　annealed　of　isolation；　plete。
　　　　Blindly；　tremulously；　as　if　she　were　no　longer　aware　of　herself；　she　placed　her　hands　on　his　ankle；　explored　it　with　her　touch　until　she　unconsciously　knew　the　precise　angle　and　acuteness　of　its　fracture。　Then　she　withdrew。
　　　　Her　power　subsumed　her；　made　her　independent　flesh　seem　transient；　devoid　of　significance；　she　became　an　involuntary　vessel　for　her　work；　anchor　and　source　of　the　bond　which　made　her　one　with　his　wound。
　　　　When　the　bond　grew　strong　enough；　she　retreated　from　him。　Without　volition　or　awareness；　she　stopped　and　picked　up　the　smooth　heavy　stone　which　she　used　as　a　pestle；　without　volition　or　awareness；　she　held　it　like　a　weighty　gift　in　both　hands；　offering　it　to　Covenant。　Then　she　raised　it　high　over　her　head。
　　　　She　blinked；　and　the　brown　link　of　oneness　trembled。
　　　　With　all　her　strength；　she　swung　the　stone　down；　slammed　it　against　her　own　ankle。
　　　　The　bones　broke　like　dry　wood。
　　　　Pain　shot　through　her…pain　like　the　splintering　of　souls；　hers　and　his。　She　shrieked　once　and　crumbled　to　the　floor　in　a　swoon。
　　　　Then　time　passed　for　her　in　a　long　agony　that　shut　and　sealed　every　other　door　of　her　mind。　She　lay　on　the　floor　while　the　fire　died　into　dim　embers；　and　the　aroma　of　spring　turned　to　dust　in　the　air；　and　the　ghostly　fibers　of　the　roots　shone　and　waned。　Nothing　existed　for　her　except　the　searing　instant　in　which　she　had　matched　Covenant's　pain…the　instant　in　which　she　had　taken　all　their　pain；　his　and　hers；　upon　herself。　Night　passed　and　came　again；　still　she　lay　crumbled。　Her　breathing　gasped　hoarsely　between　her　flaccid　lips；　and　her　heart　fluttered　along　the　verges　of　extinction。　If　she　could　have　regained　consciousness　long　enough　to　choose　to　die；　she　would　have　done　so　gladly；　eagerly。　But　the　pain　sealed　her　within　herself　and　had　its　way　with　her　until　it　became　all　she　knew　of　life　or　death。
　　　　Yet　at　last　she　found　herself　thinking　that　it　had　never　been　this　bad　when　she　was　younger。　The　old　power　had　not　altogether　failed　her；　but　her　ordeals　at　their　worst　had　never　been　like　this。　Her　body　was　wracked　with　thirst　and　hunger。　And　this；　too；　was　not　as　it　had　ever　been　before。　Where　were　the　people　who　should　have　watched　over　her…who　should　have　at　least　given　her　water　so　that　she　did　not　die　of　thirst　before　the　agony　passed？　Where　were　the　family　or　friends　who　brought　the　ill　and　injured　to　her；　and　who　gladly　did　all　they　could　to　aid　the　healing？
　　　　In　time；　such　questions　led　her　to　remember　that　she　was　alone；　that　she　and　the　sick　man　were　both　untended。　He；　too；　had　been　without　food　or　water　during　the　whole　course　of　her　ordeal；　and　even　if　her　power　had　not　failed；　he　was　in　no　condition　to　endure　such　privation。　He　might　be　dead　in　spite　of　what　she　had　survived　for　him。
　　　　With　an　effort　that　made　her　old　body　tremble　exhaustedly；　she　raised　herself　from　the　floor。
　　　　On　her　hands　and　knees　she　rested；　panting　heavily。　She　needed　to　gather　the　feeble　remnant　of　herself　before　she　faced　the　sick　man。　Miserable　tasks　awaited　her　if　he　were　dead。　She　would　have　to　struggle　through　the　Despiser's　winter　to　take　that　white　gold　ring　to　the　Lords　of　Revel…stone。　And　she　would　have　to　live　with　the　fact　that　her　agony　had　been　the　agony　of　failure。　Such　possibilities　daunted　her。
　　　　Yet　she　knew　that　even　this　delay　might　make　the　difference；　might　prove　fatal。　Groaning；　she　tried　to　stand　up。
　　　　Before　she　could　get　her　legs　under　her；　movement　staggered　toward　her　from　the　bed。　A　foot　kicked　her　to　the　floor　again。　The　sick　man　lumbered　past　her　and　thrashed　through　the　curtain　of　moss　while　she　sprawled　on　the　packed　earth。
　　　　The　surprise　of　the　blow　hurt　her　more　than　the　kick　itself；　the　man　was　far　too　weak　to　do　her　any　real　harm。　And　his　violence　rekindled　some　of　her　energy。　Panting　blunt　curses　to　herself；　she　stumbled　stiffly　upright　and　limped　out　of　the　cave　after　him。
　　　　She　caught　up　with　him　within　twenty　feet　of　the　cave's　mouth。　The　gleaming　pale　gaze　of　the　tree　trunks　had　stopped　his　flight。　He　reeled　with　fear　whimpering　in　his　throat；　as　if　the　trees　were　savage　beasts　crouched　and　waiting　for　him。
　　　　〃You　are　ill；〃　the　Healer　muttered　wearily。　〃Understand　that　if　you　understand　nothing　else。　Return　to　the　bed。〃
　　　　He　veered　around　to　face　her。　〃You're　trying　to　kill　me。〃
　　　　〃I　am　a　Healer。　I　do　not　kill。〃
　　　　〃You　hate　lepers；　and　you're　trying　to　kill　me。〃　His　eyes　bulged　insanely　in　his　haggard　face。　〃You　don't　even　exist。〃
　　　　She　could　see　that　inanition　had　only　aggravated　his　amanibhavam　confusi