rh.theassassinsapprentice-第58部分

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h　could　be　injured　in　such　a　way；　let　alone　what　I　would　feel　about　it。　I　could　e　up　with　no　name　for　the　feeling。　just　hollow；　I　thought　to　myself。　Hollow。　And　weary。
　　　　　　　I　ate　a　bit　as　I　walked　and　refilled　my　water　skin　from　a　stream。　Midmorning　clouded　up　and　rained　on　me　for　a　bit；　only　to　clear　as　abruptly　by　early　afternoon。　I　strode　on。　I　had　expected　to　find　some　sort　of　traffic　on　the　coast　road；　but　saw　nothing。　By　late　afternoon；　the　coast　road　had　veered　close　to　the　cliffs。　I　could　look　across　a　small　cove　and　down　onto　what　had　been　Forge。　The　peacefulness　of　it　was　chilling。　No　smoke　rose　from　the　cottages；　no　boats　rode　in　the　harbor。　I　knew　my　road　would　take　me　right　through　it。　I　did　not　relish　the　idea；　but　the　warm　thread　of　Smithy's　life　tugged　me　on。
　　　　　　　I　lifted　my　head　to　the　scuff　of　feet　against　stone。　Only　the　reflexes　of　Hod's　long　training　saved　me。　I　came　about；　staff　at　the　ready；　and　swept　around　me　in　a　defensive　circle　that　cracked　the　jaw　of　the　one　that　was　behind　me。　The　others　fell　back。　Three　others。　All　Forged；　empty　as　stone。　The　one　I　had　struck　was　rolling　and　yelling　on　the　ground。　No　one　paid　him　any　mind　except　me。　I　dealt　him　another　quick　jolt　to　his　back。　He　yelled　louder　and　thrashed　about。　Even　in　that　situation；　my　action　surprised　me。　I　knew　it　was　wise　to　make　sure　a　disabled　enemy　stayed　disabled；　but　I　knew　I　could　never　have　kicked　at　a　howling　dog　as　I　did　at　that　man。　But　fighting　these　Forged　ones　was　like　fighting　ghosts。　I　felt　no　presence　from　any　of　them；　I　had　no　sense　of　the　pain　I'd　dealt　the　injured　man；　no　echoes　of　his　anger　or　fear。　It　was　like　slamming　a　door；　violence　without　a　victim；　as　I　cracked　him　again；　to　be　sure　he　would　not　snatch　at　me　as　I　leaped　over　him　to　a　clear　space　in　the　road。
　　　　　　　I　danced　my　staff　around　me；　keeping　the　others　at　bay。　They　looked　ragged　and　hungry；　but　I　still　felt　they　could　outrun　me　if　I　fled。　I　was　already　tired；　and　they　were　like　starving　wolves。　They'd　pursue　me　until　I　dropped。　One　reached　too　close　and　I　struck　him　a　glancing　blow　to　the　wrist。　He　dropped　a　rusty　fish　knife　and　clutched　his　hand　to　his　heart；　shrieking　over　it。　Again；　the　other　two　paid　no　mind　to　the　injured　one。　I　danced　back。
　　　　　　　〃What　do　you　want？〃　I　demanded　of　them。
　　　　　　　〃What　do　you　have？〃　one　of　them　said。　His　voice　was　rusty　and　hesitant；　as　if　long　unused；　and　his　words　lacked　any　inflection。　He　moved　slowly　around　me；　in　a　wide　circle　that　kept　me　turning。　Dead　men　talking；　I　thought　to　myself；　and　couldn't　stop　the　thought　from　echoing　through　my　mind。
　　　　　　　〃Nothing；〃　I　panted；　jabbing　to　keep　one　from　moving　any　closer。　〃I　don't　have　anything　for　you。　No　money；　no　food；　nothing。　I　lost　all　my　things；　back　down　the　road。〃
　　　　　　　〃Nothing；〃　said　the　other；　and　for　the　first　time　I　realized　she　had　been　a　woman；　once。　Now　she　was　this　empty　malevolent　puppet；　whose　dull　eyes　suddenly　lit　with　avarice　as　she　said；　〃Cloak。　I　want　your　cloak。〃
　　　　　　　She　seemed　pleased　to　have　formulated　this　thought；　and　it　made　her　careless　enough　to　let　me　crack　her　on　the　shin。　She　glanced　down　at　the　injury　as　if　puzzled；　and　then　continued　to　limp　after　me。
　　　　　　　〃Cloak；〃　echoed　the　other。　For　a　moment　they　glared　at　one　another　in　dull　realization　of　their　rivalry。　〃Me。　Mine；〃　he　added。
　　　　　　　〃No。　Kill　you；〃　she　offered　calmly。　〃Kill　you；　too；〃　she　reminded　me；　and　came　close　again。　I　swung　my　staff　at　her；　but　she　leaped　back；　and　then　made　a　snatch　at　it　as　it　went　by。　I　turned；　just　in　time　to　whack　the　one　whose　wrist　I　had　already　damaged。　Then　I　leaped　past　him　and　raced　down　the　road。　I　ran　awkwardly；　holding　on　to　my　staff　with　one　hand　as　I　fought　the　fastening　of　my　cloak　with　the　other。　At　last　it　came　undone　and　I　let　it　fall　from　me　as　I　continued　to　run。　The　rubberiness　in　my　legs　warned　me　that　this　was　my　last　gambit。　But　a　few　moments　later　they　must　have　reached　it；　for　I　heard　angry　cries　and　screams　as　they　quarreled　over　it。　I　prayed　it　would　be　enough　to　occupy　all　four　of　them　and　kept　running。　There　was　a　bend　in　the　road；　not　much　but　enough　to　take　me　out　of　their　sight。　Still；　I　kept　running；　and　then　trotting　as　long　as　I　could　before　I　dared　to　look　back。　The　road　shone　wide　and　empty　behind　me。　I　pushed　myself　on；　and　when　I　saw　a　likely　spot；　I　left　the　road。
　　　　　　　I　found　a　savagely　nasty　thicket　of　brambles　and　forced　my　way　into　the　heart　of　it。　Shaking　and　exhausted；　I　crouched　down　on　my　heels　in　the　thick　of　the　spiny　bushes　and　strained　my　ears　for　any　sign　of　pursuit。　I　took　short　sips　from　my　water　and　tried　to　calm　myself。　I　had　no　time　for　this　delay；　I　had　to　get　back　to　Buckkeep；　but　I　dared　not　emerge。
　　　　　　　It　is　still　inconceivable　to　me　that　I　fell　asleep　there；　but　I　did。
　　　　　　　I　came　awake　gradually。　Groggy；　I　felt　sure　I　was　recovering　from　a　severe　injury　or　long　illness。　My　eyes　were　gummy；　my　mouth　thick　and　sour。　I　forced　my　eyelids　open　and　looked　around　me　in　bewilderment。　The　light　was　ebbing；　and　an　overcast　defeated　the　moon。
　　　　　　　My　exhaustion　had　been　such　that　I　had　leaned　over　into　the　thornbushes　and　slept　despite　a　multitude　of　jabbing　prickles。　I　extricated　myself　with　much　difficulty；　leaving　bits　of　cloth；　hair；　and　skin　behind。　I　emerged　from　my　hiding　place　as　cautiously　as　any　hunted　animal；　not　only　questing　as　far　as　my　sense　would　reach；　but　also　snuffing　the　air　and　peering　all　about　me。　I　knew　that　my　questing　would　not　reveal　to　me　any　Forged　ones；　but　hoped　that　if　any　were　nearby；　the　forest　animals　would　have　seen　them　and　reacted。　But　all　was　quiet。
　　　　　　　I　cautiously　emerged　onto　the　road。　But　it　was　wide　and　empty。　I　looked　once　at　the　sky；　and　then　set　out　for　Forge。　I　stayed　close　to　the　edge　of　the　road；　where　the　shadows　of　the　trees　were　thickest。　I　tried　to　move　both　swiftly　and　silently；　and　did　neither　as　well　as　I　wanted　to。　I　had　stopped　thinking　of　anything　except　vigilance　and　my　need　to　get　back　to　Buckkeep。　Smithy's　life　was　the　barest　tendril　in　my　mind。　I　think　the　only　emotion　still　active　in　me　was　the　fear　that　kept　me　looking　over　my　shoulder　and　scanning　the　woods　to　either　side　as　I　walked。
　　　　　　　It　was　full　dark　when　I　arrived　on　the　hillside　overlooking　Forge。　For　some　time　I　stood　looking　down　on　it；　seeking　for　any　signs　of　life；　then　I　forced　myself　to　walk　on。　The　wind　had　e　up　and　fitfully　granted　me　moonlight。　It　was　a　treacherous　boon；　as　much　deceiver　as　revealer。　It　made　shadows　move　at　the　corners　of　abandoned　houses　and　cast　sudden　reflections　that　glinted　like　knives　from　puddles　in　the　street。　But　no　one　walked　in　Forge。　The　harbor　was　empty　of　vessels；　no　smoke　rose　from　any　chimneys。　The　normal　inhabitants　had　abandoned　it　not　long　after　that　fateful　raid；　and　evidently　the　Forged　ones　had　as　well；　once　there　were　no　more　sources　of　food　or　fort　there。　The　town　had　never　really　rebuilt　itself　after　the　raid；　and　a　long　season　of　winter　storms　and　tides　had　nearly　pleted　what　the　Red…Ships　had　begun。　Only　the　harbor　looked　almost　normal；　save　for　the　empty　slips。　The　seawalls　still　curved　out　into　the　bay　like　protective　hands　cupping　the　docks。　But　there　was　nothing　left　to　protect。
　　　　　　　I　threaded　my　way　through　the　desolation　that　was　Forge。　My　skin　prickled　as　I　crept　past　sagging　doors　on　splintered　frames　in　half　burned　buildings。　It　was　a　relief　to　get　away　from　the　moldy　smell　of　the　empty　cottages　and　to　stand　on　the　wharves　overlooking　the　water。　The　road　went　right　down　to　the　docks　and　curved　along　the　cove。　A　shoulder　of　roughly　worked　stone　had　once　protected　the　road　from　the　greedy　sea；　but　a　winter　of　tides　and　storms　without　the　intervention　of　man　was　breaking　it　down。　Stones　were　working　loose；　and　the　sea's　driftwood　battering　rams；　abandoned　now　by　the　tide；　cluttered　the　beach　below。　Once　carts　of　iron　ingots　had　been　hauled　down　this　road；　to　waiting　vessels。　I　walked　along　the　seawall　and　saw　that　what　had　appeared　so　permanent　from　the　hill　above　would　withstand　perhaps　one　or　two　more　winter　seasons　without　maintenance　before　the　sea　reclaimed　it。
　　　　　　　Overhead；　stars　shone　intermittently　through　scudding　clouds。　The　evasive　moon　cloaked　and　revealed　herself　as　well；　occasionally　granting　me　glimpses　of　the　harbor。　The　shushing　of　the　waves　was　like　the　breathing　of　a　drugged　giant。　It　was　a　night　from　a　dream；　and　when　I　looked　out　over　the　water；　the　ghost　of　a　Red…Ship　cut　across　the　moonpath　as　it　put　into　Forge　harbor。　Her　hull　was　long　and　sleek；　her　masts　bare　of　canvas　as　she　came　slipping　into　the　harbor。　The　red　of　her　hull　and　prow　was　shiny　as　fresh　spilled　blood；　as　if　she　cut　through　runnels　of　blood　instead　of　salt　water。　In　the　dead　town　behind　me；　no　one　raised　a　shout　of　warning。
　　　　　　　I　stood　like　a　fool；　limned　on　the　seawall；　shivering　at　the　apparition；　until　the　creak　of　oars　and　the　silver　dripping　of　water　off　an　oar's　edge　made　the　Red…Ship　real。
　　　　　　　I　flung　myself　flat　to　the　causeway；　then　slithered　off　the　smooth　road　surface　into　the　boulders　and　driftwood　cluttered　along　the　seawall。　I　could　not　breathe　for　terror。　All　my　blood　was　in　my　head；　pounding；　and　no　air　was　in　my　lungs。　I　had　to　set　my　head　down　between　my　arms　and　close　my　eyes　to　regain　control　of　myself。　By　then　the　small　sounds　even　a　stealthy　vessel　must　make　came　faint　but　distinct　across　the　water　to　me。　A　man　cleared　his　throat；　an　oar　rattled　in　its　lock；　something　heavy　thudded　to　the　deck。　I　waited　for　a　shout　or　mand　to　betray　that　I　had　been　seen。　But　there　was　nothing。　I　lifted　my　head　cautiously；　peering　through　the　whitened　roots　of　a　driftwood　log。　All　was　still　save　the　ship　ing　closer　and　closer　as　the　rowers　brought　her　into　harbor。　Her　oars　rose　and　fell　in　near…silent　unison。
　　　　　　　Soon　I　could　hear　them　talking　in　a　language　like　ours；　but　so　harshly　spoken　I　could　barely　get　the　meaning　of　the　words。　A　man　sprang　over　the　side　with　a　line　and　floundered　ashore。　He　made　the　ship　fast　no　more　than　two　ship　lengths　away　from　where　I　lay　hidden　among　the　boulders　and　logs。　Two　others　sprang　out；　knives　in　hands；　and　scrambled　up　the　seawall。　They　ran　along　the　road　in　opposite　directions；　to　take　up　positions　as　sentries。　One　was　on　the　road　almost