fs.thesecondbookofswords-第35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！


appeared　again。
　　　The　hard…faced　Amazon　warriors　rushed　to　encircle　Ariane；　and　wele　her　as　a　new　recruit。　Mark　caught　a　last　frightened　look　from　her　as　she　was　swept　away。
　　　At　least　they　were　all　going　in　the　same　direction。
　　　On　to　the　party！
Chapter　14
　　　The　place　of　revelry　was　not　pletely　walled　off　from　the　surrounding　cave　with　its　gloomy　appearance　of　half　barracks　and　half　cemetery。　Instead　it　was　only　partially　separated　by　head…high　partitions；　constructed　of　stacked　barracks…beds；　and　of　piled…up　barrels；　crates；　and　kegs。　These　containers；　Mark　deduced；　held　the　supplies　necessary　for　proper　celebration。　D'Albarno　had　evidently　already　sent　ahead　this　far　at　least　the　word　of　his　triumph　in　the　field；　for　the　bar　was　almost　ready　to　open　when　his　bined　force　of　troops　and　prisoners；　now　mingled　almost　indistinguishably；　arrived。　The　bar　itself　was　a　crude　three…sided　enclosure；　built　up　of　barracks…beds；　some　upside　down；　stacked　lower　than　the　walls。　Smaller　stacks　made　tables　nearby；　and　single　beds　simply　uncovered　served　as　benches。　The　scene　was　lit　by　mounted　torches。　The　only　halfway　permanent…looking　。structure　in　sight　was　a　crude　stone　fireplace；　its　sides　so　low　that　it　was　not　much　more　than　an　open　pit。　One　of　the　garrison；　who　was　either　a　minor　conjuror　or　thought　he　was；　was　waving　his　arms　to　create　a　spell　in　hopes　of　making　the　smoke　rise　straight　up　into　the　unfathomed　darkness　overhead。　There　was　a　pile　of　ordinary…looking　wood　for　fuel；　brought　perhaps　from　the　magic　forest　on　the　level　above。　Over　some　newly　kindled　flames　a　large　four…legged　beast　of　some　kind　was　being　roasted　virtually　whole。　Turning　the　spit；　and　bustling　around　on　various　other　lowly　tasks；　were　a　few　of　the　scroungier　and　weaker…looking　members　of　the　garrison。
　　　Inside　the　three…sided　enclosure　of　the　bar；　and　setting　about　more　prestigious　work；　were　three　beings　of　a　type　that　Mark　recognized　at　once　from　Ben's　description；　though　he　himself　had　never　seen　the　like　before。
　　　Ben　nudged　him。　〃Whitehands；〃　the　big　man　murmured。　Indeed　the　main　distinguishing　feature　of　the　beings　leaped　to　the　eye　at　once：　the　huge；　pale　hands；　now　at　work　setting　out　kegs　probably　of　ale；　bottles　of　wine；　crocks　of　something　that　might　be　mead；　to　judge　by　the　sudden　sweetish　smell　in　the　air。　The　strength　of　those　large　hands　was　being　demonstrated；　yet　they　looked　soft。　The　rest　of　the　beings'　physical　appearance　also　varied　from　that　of　mon　humanity。　They　had　large；　staring　eyes　…　the　better；　Mark　supposed；　to　see　in　darkness　…　set　in　pallid　faces。　Large　ears　as　well；　and　worried；　thin…lipped　mouths。　Hair　was　mostly　worn　or　withered　away；　and　skin　was　wrinkled。　Stature　varied；　among　the　three　now　present；　but　the　average　of　this　small　sample　was　on　the　short　side　for　humanity。　All　were　in　uniform；　wearing　highnecked　blue　shirts　and　smooth　short　golden　capes。　Their　clothing　was　immaculate；　as　pared　to　the　scruffy　patchwork　garb　worn　by　the　military　garrison。
　　　The　mander　of　that　garrison；　the　conductor　of　its　most　recent　successful　defense；　waddled　straight　up　to　the　bar。　Before　he　could　speak；　the　tallest　of　the　creatures　behind　it　pounced　upon　him　verbally；　asking　whether　the　fighting　had　been　extensive。　〃It　sounded　bad；　from　here。　Was　there　much　damage？　Costly？〃
　　　The　Field　Marshal　roared　back　at　him：　〃With　me　and　my　best　people　on　the　job？　Not　bloody　likely！　Now　bring　on　the　booze；　we've　earned　it。　And　start　the　food。　And　how　about　some　music？〃
　　　A　shout　of　approval　for　this　speech　went　up　from　d'Albarno's　followers；　who　were　already　massing　just　behind　him　and　along　the　bar。　This　noise　left　audible　only　the　last　words　of　the　next　anxious　question　from　the　Whitehand　leader：　〃。。。　the　prisoners？〃
　　　〃Of　course　I've　got　the　prisoners　under　control！　Who's　mander　of　the　garrison　here；　anyway？　Not　you；　you　damned　white…handed；　white…livered　blob　of　money…fat！〃
　　　The　one　who　stood　behind　the　bar　looked　perfectly　secure　in　his　own　superiority　to　such　behavior；　and　only　distantly　offended。　〃As　soon　as　First　Chairman　Benambra　shows　up；　I'm　going　to　speak　to　him　about　this。〃
　　　Mark　thought　that　this　threat　had　an　effect　on　d'Albarno。　But　the　Field　Marshal　was　not　going　to　let　it　show　if　he　could　help　it。　〃Speak　away；〃　he　thundered　at　the　other。　〃But；　until　then；　you're　going　to　serve　us　BOOZE！〃
　　　Another　explosive　expression　of　support　burst　up　behind　him。　Men　and　Amazons　surged　forward　to　the　bar。　Those　weaker；　or　perhaps　only　less　desperate　for　drink；　were　pushed　aside。　The　Whitehands　who　had　been　speaking　to　d'Albarno　nodded　fatalistically　to　his　fellows；　and　he　and　the　others　began　to　pour　and　serve。
　　　Ben；　appearing　more　bemused　than　ever；　looked　over　at　Mark　and　asked：　〃What　was　that　about　'Benambra'？〃
　　　Another　man　answered　him　before　Mark　could　speak。　〃Most　of　the　people　we　get　in　here　recognize　that　name。〃　This　was　from　one　of　the　garrison；　a　paratively　healthy…looking　specimen；　who　had　been　forced　close　to　the　prisoners　in　the　increasing　crush。　（And　were　we　really　facing　this　many　of　them　out　there？　Mark　wondered　silently。　If　so；　Doon　had　certainly　been　wise　to　do　what　he　did。）
　　　The　trooper　who　had　just　spoken　had　by　some　legerdemain　already　gotten　a　filled　mug　in　his　hand。　He　added　now：　〃The　first　High　Priest。　You　know。　There　used　to　be　an　old　song　about　him；　when　I　was　still　topside。　He's　still　here；　though　I　bet　the　cave's　changed　a　lot　since　he　first　started　hiding　Temple　treasure　in　it。　You　better　push　your　way　up　there　and　get　a　drink　while　you've　still　got　the　chance。〃
　　　Mark　and　Ben　exchanged　another　look。　Together　they　began　to　force　their　way　through　the　crush；　working　toward　the　bar。
　　　The　Amazons　had　e　to　the　party　in　a　group；　and　this　segregation　still　persisted；　though　it　was　beginning　to　fray　out　around　the　edges。　Ben　kept　peering　toward　their　pany；　trying　to　catch　sight　of　Ariane。　He　could　obtain　occasional　glimpses　of　red　hair　and　a　pale　face；　and　from　what　little　he　could　see　of　her　she　appeared　to　be　all　right。　If　she　wasn't　all　right　next　time　he　looked；　he　wasn't　sure　what　he　could　do　about　it。　Starting　a　fight　would　probably　be　suicidal。　So　far　Doon's　strategy；　whatever　its　ultimate　goal；　was　keeping　them　all　from　being　killed；　or　enslaved；　or　even　disarmed。　But。。。
　　　The　talkative　garrison　man　had　e　along；　pushing　his　way　with　Mark　and　Ben　toward　the　bar。　He　still　had　his　drinking　mug　in　hand；　almost　full；　so　he　probably　had　something　besides　another　drink　in　mind。　Standing　beside　Ben　now；　he　reached　out　casually　for　Dragonslicer's　hilt。　Ben　knocked　the　reaching　hand　away。
　　　〃Neat　sword；〃　the　man　mented；　unperturbed。　〃You　might　as　well　hand　it　over　now；　and　save　trouble　later。　I'm　claiming　it　as　spoils。　No　use　my　trying　to　get　that　headlight　of　yours；　the　priests　or　the　Whitehands　will　latch　onto　that　for　sure。〃
　　　〃They　will？〃　Ben　couldn't　think　of　anything　more　helpful　to　say。
　　　〃Sure。　Whatever　weapons　prisoners　are　captured　with　are　forfeit。　After　you　go　through　your　basic　training　for　the　garrison；　you　can　draw　new　arms　from　the　armory；　anything　they　have　available。〃
　　　〃A　pile　of　rusty　crap；〃　plained　another　man　nearby；　overhearing　at　least　the　tail　of　the　conversation。
　　　The　first　man　shrugged。　〃Maybe　you　can　get　something　better　from　the　next　batch　that　es　in　to　rob　and　gets　captured。〃
　　　〃When'll　that　be？〃　Ben　had　now　adopted　his　stupid　look。　He　figured　that　he　ought　to　keep　on　talking；　while　he　waited　for　a　chance　to　do　some　thing。　He　might　even　be　able　to　learn　something　useful。
　　　〃Who　knows？　Who　can　keep　track　of　time　down　here？　Hey；　what's　going　on　topside　these　days？　Is　Blue　Temple　in　a　war？　Wish　they'd　get　into　a　real　one；　we'd　get　a　lot　of　recruits　down　here；　I　could　get　a　promotion。　A　war　with　the　Amazons；　maybe。　The　bunch　we　have　is　getting　a　little　old。〃　He　licked　his　lips　and　looked　in　that　direction。
　　　Ben；　who　before　today　had　never　heard　of　Amazons　outside　of　an　old　story　or　two；　looked　that　way　again　also。　Ariane　now　appeared　to　have　mastered　her　fears。　She　was　telling　some　kind　of　a　story；　acpanying　the　tale　with　sweeping　arm…gestures；　and　had　a　small　audience　of　warrior…women　around　her　more　or　less　interested。　Not　far　from　the　slowly　dissolving　group　of　women　sat　Willem　and　Daghur；　who　did　not　in　the　least　look　as　if　they　thought　of　themselves　as　prisoners；　recaptured　deserters。　They　were　fraternizing　with　other　men　who　had　to　be　their　old　buddies　from　the　garrison。　And　Dmitry；　laughing　fit　to　burst　at　something；　was　sitting　in　the　lap　of　one　of　the　larger　Amazons　while　she　drank　from　his　mug。
　　　Doon　and　d'Albarno；　now　showing　an　indefinable　but　strong　similarity　despite　the　disparity　in　build　and　features；　were　sitting　with　others　at　a　head　table；　elevated　upon　some　kind　of　dais。　Mark　saw　the　first　platters　of　food；　meat　sliced　nearly　raw；　were　being　served　there　now　by　garrison　youngsters；　mostly　frightenable…looking　Amazon　girls。　Musicians　had　now　appeared　from　somewhere；　and　were　at　work　in　their　own　seats　a　little　below　the　head　table。　Whether　they　played　well　or　badly；　or　indeed　if　their　instruments　made　any　sound　at　all；　it　was　impossible　to　tell　amid　the　general　din。
　　　D'Albarno　was　now　obviously　telling　Doon　a　story；　and　from　the　mammary　shapes　that　the　Field　Marshal's　large　hands　were　sketching　in　the　air；　it　was　easy　to　guess　what　kind　of　a　tale　it　was。　Mugs　and　flagons　were　passing　in　profusion　everywhere　now；　and　with　incredible　speed。　Kegs　and　barrels　were　being　appropriated　from　the　Whitehands　by　main　force；　and　hoisted　onto　tables　to　be　broached　and　tapped；　as　the　regular　troops　impatiently　took　over　the　duties　of　tending　bar。　Somewhere　in　the　midst　of　the　melee　a　woman　screamed；　loud　enough　to　be　heard；　but　more　it　seemed　in　delight　than　in　terror。
　　　A　man　who　had　been　standing　on　one　end　of　a　table　fell　off；　clutching　as　he　went　down　for　the　barrel　that　he　and　others　had　been　trying　to　open。　The　container　swayed；　wobbled；　and　fell　from　the　table　in　its　turn；　hitting　the　stone　floor　with　the　sound　of　doom。　Liquid　and　fumes　burst　forth　together　in　an　overpowering　flood。　People　fell　and　scrambled；　and　some　went　down　on　hands　and　knees；