gc.thewhiterose-第6部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


eet　milk　from　the　blackest　of　cows。　He　dared　make　no　mistake。　He　had　Besand　on　the　one　hand；　the　poisonous　old　wickedness　on　the　other。　But　if　he　succeeded　。　。　。　　Ah；　if　he　succeeded。　If　he　made　contact　and　nursed　away　the　secrets　。　。　。　　Man's　knowledge　would　be　extended　dramatically。　He　would　bee　the　mightiest　of　living　mages。　His　fame　would　course　with　the　wind。　Jasmine　would　have　everything　she　quarreled　about　sacrificing。　If　he　made　contact。
　　　He　would；　by　damn！　Neither　fear　nor　the　infirmity　of　age　would　stay　him　now。　A　few　months　and　he　would　have　the　last　key。
　　　Bomanz　had　lived　his　lies　so　long　he　often　lied　to　himself。　Even　in　his　honest　moments　he　never　confessed　his　most　powerful　motive；　his　intellectual　affair　with　the　Lady。　It　was　she　who　had　intrigued　him　from　the　beginning；　she　whom　he　was　trying　to　contact；　she　who　made　the　literature　endlessly　fascinating。　Of　all　the　lords　of　the　Domination　she　was　the　most　shadowed；　the　most　surrounded　by　myth；　the　least　encumbered　by　historical　fact。　Some　scholars　called　her　the　greatest　beauty　ever　to　have　lived；　claiming　that　simply　to　have　seen　her　was　to　have　fallen　into　her　thrall。　Some　called　her　the　true　motive　force　of　the　Domination。　A　few　admitted　that　their　documentaries　were　really　little　more　than　romantic　fantasies。　Others　admitted　nothing　while　demonstrably　embellishing。　Bomanz　had　bee　perpetually　bemused　while　still　a　student。
　　　Back　in　his　attic；　he　spread　his　silken　chart。　His　day　had　not　been　a　plete　waste。　He　had　located　a　previously　unknown　menhir　and　had　identified　the　spells　it　anchored。　And　he　had　found　the　TelleKurre　site。　That　would　buy　the　mutton　and　beans。
　　　He　glared　at　the　chart；　as　if　pure　will　might　conjure　the　information　he　needed。
　　　There　were　two　diagrams。　The　upper　was　a　five…pointed　star　within　a　slightly　larger　circle。　Such　had　been　the　shape　of　the　Barrowland　when　newly　constructed。　The　star　had　stood　a　fathom　above　the　surrounding　terrain；　retained　by　limestone　walls。　The　circle　represented　the　outer　bank　of　a　moat；　the　earth　from　which　had　been　used　to　build　the　barrows；　the　star；　and　a　pentagon　within　the　star。　Today　the　moat　was　little　more　than　boggy　ground。　Besand's　predecessors　had　been　unable　to　keep　up　with　Nature。
　　　Within　the　star；　drawn　off　the　points　where　the　arms　met；　was　a　pentagon　another　fathom　high。　It；　too；　had　been　retained；　but　the　walls　had　fallen　and　bee　overgrown。　Central　to　the　pentagon；　on　a　north…south　axis；　lay　the　Great　Barrow　where　the　Dominator　slept。
　　　At　the　points　of　his　chart　star；　clockwise　from　the　top；　Bomanz　had　penned　the　odd　numbers　from　one　to　nine。　Acpanying　each　was　a　name：　Soulcatcher；　Shapeshifter。　Nightcrawler；　Stormbringer；　Bonegnasher。　The　occupants　of　the　five　outer　barrows　had　been　identified。　The　five　inner　points　were　numbered　evenly；　beginning　at　the　right　foot　of　the　arm　of　the　star　pointing　northward。　At　four　was　the　Howler；　at　eight　the　Limper。　The　graves　of　three　of　the　Ten　Who　Were　Taken　remained　unidentified。
　　　〃Who's　in　that　damned　six　spot？〃　Bomanz　muttered。　He　slammed　a　fist　against　the　table。　〃Dammit！〃　Four　years　and　he　was　no　closer　to　that　name。　The　mask　concealing　that　identity　was　the　one　remaining　substantial　barrier。　Everything　else　was　plain　technical　application；　a　matter　of　negating　wardspells；　then　of　contacting　the　great　one　in　the　central　mound。
　　　The　wizards　of　the　White　Rose　had　left　volumes　bragging　about　their　performances　of　their　art；　but　not　one　word　of　where　their　victims　lay。　Such　was　human　nature。　Besand　bragged　about　the　fish　he　caught；　the　bait　he　used；　and　seldom　produced　the　veritable　piscine　trophy。
　　　Below　his　star　chart　Bomanz　had　drawn　a　second　portraying　the　central　mound。　It　was　a　rectangle　on　a　north…south　axis　surrounded　by　and　filled　with　ranks　of　symbols。　Outside　each　corner　was　a　representation　of　a　menhir　which；　on　the　Barrowland；　was　a　twelve…foot　pillar　topped　by　a　two…faced　owl's　head。　One　face　glared　inward；　the　other　out。　The　menhirs　formed　the　corner　posts　anchoring　the　first　line　of　spells　warding　the　Great　Barrow。
　　　Along　the　sides　were　the　line　posts；　little　circles　representing　wooden　fetish　poles。　Most　had　rotted　and　fallen；　their　spells　drooping　with　them。　The　Eternal　Guard　had　no　staff　wizard　capable　of　restoring　or　replacing　them。
　　　Within　the　mound　proper　there　were　symbols　ranked　in　three　rectangles　of　declining　size。　The　outermost　resembled　pawns；　the　next　knights；　and　the　inner；　elephants。　The　crypt　of　the　Dominator　was　surrounded　by　men　who　had　given　their　lives　to　bring　him　down。　Ghosts　were　the　middle　line　between　old　evil　and　a　world　capable　of　recalling　it。　Bomanz　anticipated　no　difficulty　getting　past　them。　The　ghosts　were　there；　in　his　opinion；　to　discourage　mon　grave　robbers。
　　　Within　the　three　rectangles　Bomanz　had　drawn　a　dragon　with　its　tail　in　its　mouth。　Legend　said　a　great　dragon　lay　curled　round　the　crypt；　more　alive　than　the　Lady　or　Dominator；　catnapping　the　centuries　away　while　awaiting　an　attempt　to　recall　the　trapped　evil。
　　　Bomanz　had　no　way　of　coping　with　the　dragon；　but　he　had　no　need；　either。　He　meant　to　municate　with　the　crypt；　not　to　open　it。
　　　Damn！　If　he　could　only　lay　hands　on　an　old　Guardsman's　amulet　。　。　。　　The　early　Guards　had　worn　amulets　which　had　allowed　them　to　go　into　the　Barrowland　to　keep　it　up。　The　amulets　still　existed；　though　they　were　no　longer　used。　Besand　wore　one。　The　others　he　kept　squirreled　away。
　　　Besand。　That　madman。　That　sadist。
　　　Bomanz　considered　the　Monitor　his　closest　acquaintance…but　a　friend；　never。　No；　never　a　friend。　Sad　mentary　on　his　life；　that　the　man　nearest　him　would　be　one　who　would　jump　at　a　chance　to　torture　or　hang　him。
　　　What　was　that　about　retirement？　Someone　outside　this　forsaken　forest　had　recalled　the　Barrowland？
　　　〃Bomanz！　Are　you　going　to　eat？〃
　　　Bomanz　muttered　imprecations　and　rolled　his　chart。
　　　The　Dream　came　that　night。　Something　sirenic　called　him。　He　was　young　again；　single；　strolling　the　lane　that　passed　his　house。　A　woman　waved。　Who　was　she？　He　didn't　know。　He　didn't　care。　He　loved　her。　Laughing；　he　ran　toward　her　。　。　。　　Floating　steps。　Effort　took　him　no　nearer。　Her　face　saddened。　She　faded　。　。　。　　〃Don't　go！〃　he　called。　〃Please！〃　But　she　disappeared；　and　took　with　her　his　sun。
　　　A　vast　starless　night　devoured　his　dream。　He　floated　in　a　clearing　within　a　forest　unseen。　Slowly；　slowly；　a　diffuse　silver　something　limned　the　trees。　A　big　star　with　a　long　silver　mane。　He　watched　it　grow　till　its　tail　spanned　the　sky。
　　　Twinge　of　uncertainty。　Shadow　of　fear。　〃It's　ing　right　at　me！〃　He　cringed；　threw　his　arm　across　his　face。　The　silver　ball　filled　the　sky。　It　had　a　face。　The　woman's　face　。　。　。
　　　〃Bo！　Stop　it！〃　Jasmine　punched　him　again。
　　　He　sat　up。　〃Uhn？　What？〃
　　　〃You　were　yelling。　That　nightmare　again？〃
　　　He　listened　to　his　heart　hammer；　sighed。　Could　it　take　much　more？　He　was　an　old　man。　〃The　same　one。〃　It　recurred　at　unpredictable　intervals。　〃It　was　stronger　this　time。〃
　　　〃Maybe　you　ought　to　see　a　dream　doctor。〃
　　　〃Out　here？〃　He　snorted　disgustedly。　〃I　don't　need　a　dream　doctor　anyway。〃
　　　〃No。　Probably　just　your　conscience。　Nagging　you　for　luring　Stancil　back　from　Oar。〃
　　　〃I　didn't　lure　。　。　。　　Go　to　sleep。〃　To　his　amazement；　she　rolled　over；　for　once　unwilling　to　pursue　their　squabble。
　　　He　stared　into　the　darkness。　It　had　been　so　much　clearer。　Almost　too　crisp　and　obvious。　Was　there　a　meaning　hidden　behind　the　dream's　warning　against　tampering？
　　　Slowly；　slowly；　the　mood　of　the　beginning　of　the　dream　returned。　That　sense　of　being　summoned；　of　being　but　one　intuitive　step　from　heart's　desire。　It　felt　good。　His　tension　drained　away。　He　fell　asleep　smiling。
　　　Besand　and　Bomanz　stood　watching　Guardsmen　clear　the　brush　from　Bomanz's　site。　Bomanz　suddenly　spat；　〃Don't　burn　it；　you　idiot！　Stop　him；　Besand。〃
　　　Besand　shook　his　head。　A　Guard　with　a　torch　backed　away　from　the　brush　pile。　〃Son；　you　don't　burn　poison　ivy。　The　smoke　spreads　the　poison。〃
　　　Bomanz　was　scratching。　And　wondering　why　his　panion　was　being　so　reasonable。　Besand　smirked。　〃Get　itchy　just　thinking　about　it；　don't　you？〃
　　　〃Yes。〃
　　　〃There's　your　other　itch。〃　He　pointed。
　　　Bomanz　saw　his　petitor　Men　Fu　observing　from　a　safe　distance。　He　growled；　〃I　never　hated　anybody；　but　he　tempts　me。　He　has　no　ethics；　no　scruples；　and　no　conscience。　He's　a　thief　and　a　liar。〃
　　　〃I　know　him；　Bo。　And　lucky　for　you　I　do。〃
　　　〃Let　me　ask　you　something；　Besand。　Monitor　Besand。　How　e　you　don't　aggravate　him　the　way　you　do　me？　What　do　you　mean；　lucky？〃
　　　〃He　accused　you　of　Resurrectionist　tendencies。　I　don't　shadow　him　because　his　many　virtues　include　cowardice。　He　doesn't　have　the　hair　to　recover　proscribed　artifacts。〃
　　　〃And　I　do？　That　little　wart　libeled　me？　With　capital　crimes？　If　I　weren't　an　old　man　。　。　。　〃
　　　〃He'll　get　his；　Bo。　And　you　do　have　the　guts。　I've　just　never　caught　you　with　the　inclination。〃
　　　Bomanz　rolled　his　eyes。　〃Here　we　go。　The　veiled　accusations　。　。　。　〃
　　　〃Not　so　veiled；　my　friend。　There's　a　moral　laxness　in　you；　an　unwillingness　to　accept　the　existence　of　evil；　that　stinks　like　an　old　corpse。　Give　it　its　head　and　I'll　catch　you；　Bo。　The　wicked　are　cunning；　but　they　always　betray　themselves。〃
　　　For　an　instant　Bomanz　thought　his　world　was　falling　apart。　Then　he　realized　Besand　was　fishing。　A　dedicated　fisherman；　the　Monitor。　Shaken；　he　countered；　〃I'm　sick　of　your　sadism。　If　you　really　suspected　anything；　you'd　be　on　me　like　a　snake　on　shit。　Legalities　never　meant　anything　to　you　Guards。　You're　probably　lying　about　Men　fu。　You'd　haul　your　own　mother　in　on　the　word　of　a　sorrier　villain　than　him。　You're　sick；　Besand。　You　know　that？　Diseased。　Right　here。〃　He　tapped　his　temple。　〃You　can't　relate　without　cruelty。〃
　　　〃You're　pushing　your　luck　again。　Bo。〃
　　　Bomanz　backed　down。　Fright　and　temper　had　been　talking。　In　his　own　odd　way　Besand　had　shown　him　special　tolerance。
　　　It　was　as　though　he　were　necessary　to　the　Monitor's　emotional　health。　Besand　needed　one　person；　outside　the　Guard；　whom　he　did　not　victimize。　Someone　whose　immunity　repaid　him　in　a　sort　of　validation　。　。　。　　I'm　symbolic　of　the　people　he　defends？　Bomanz　snorted。　That　was　rich。
　　　That　business　about　being　retired。　Did　he　say　more　than