sk.thegunslinger-第23部分

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n't　matter。　After　today；　I　am　the　hawk。〃
David　stood　on　his　arm；　silent　and　unblinking；　indifferent　to　his　life　or　death。
〃You　are　old；〃　the　boy　said　reflectively。　〃And　perhaps　not　my　friend。　Even　a　year　ago　you　would　have　had　my　eyes　instead　of　that　little　string　of　meat；　isn't　it　so？　Cortwould　laugh。　But　if　we　get　close　enough　。　。　。　which　is　it；　bird？　Age　。　or　friendship？〃
David　did　not　say。
The　boy　hooded　him　and　found　the　jesses；　which　were　looped　at　the　end　of　David's　perch。　They　left　the　barn。
The　yard　behind　the　Great　Hall　was　not　really　a　yard　at　all；　but　only　a　green　corridor　whose　walls　were　formed　by　tangled；　thick…grown　hedges。　It　had　been　used　for　the　rite　of　ing　of　age　since　time　out　of　mind；　long　before　Cort　and　his　predecessor；　who　had　died　of　a　stab…wound　from　an　overzealous　hand　in　this　place。　Many　boys　had　left　the　corridor　from　the　east　end；　where　the　teacher　always　entered；　as　men。　The　east　end　faced　the　Great　Hall　and　all　the　civilization　and　intrigue　of　the　lighted　world。　Many　more　had　slunk　away；　beaten　and　bloody；　from　the　west　end；　where　the　boys　always　entered；　as　boys　forever。　The　west　end　faced　the　mountains　and　the　hut…dwellers；　beyond　that；　the　tangled　barbarian　forests；　and　beyond　that　the　desert。　The　boy　who　became　a　man　progressed　from　darkness　and　unlearning　to　light　and　responsibility。　The　boy　who　was　beaten　could　only　retreat；　forever　and　forever。　The　hallway　was　as　smooth　and　green　as　a　gaming　field。　It　was　exactly　fifty　yards　long。
Each　end　was　usually　clogged　with　tense　spectators　and　relatives；　for　the　ritual　was　usually　forecast　with　great　accuracy　　eighteen　was　the　most　mon　age　（those　who　had　not　made　their　test　by　the　age　of　twenty…five　usually　slipped　into　obscurity　as　freeholders；　unable　to　face　the　brutal　all…or…nothing　fact　of　the　field　and　the　test）。　But　on
this　day　there　were　none　but　Jamie；　Cuthbert；　Allen；　and　Thomas。　They　clustered　at　the　boy's　end；　gape…mouthed　and　frankly　terrified。
〃Your　weapon；　stupid！〃　Cuthbert　hissed；　in　agony。　〃You　forgot　your　weapon！〃
〃I　have　it；〃　the　boy　said　distantly。　Dimly　he　wondered　if　the　news　of　this　had　reached　yet　to　the　central　buildings；　to　his　mother　　and　Marten。　His　father　was　on　a　hunt；　not　due　back　for　weeks。　In　this　he　felt　a　sense　of　shame；　for　he　felt　that　in　his　father　he　would　have　found　understanding；　if　not　approval。　〃Has　Cort　e？〃
〃Cort　is　here。〃　The　voice　came　from　the　far　end　of　the　corridor；　and　Cort　stepped　into　view；　dressed　in　a　short　singlet。　A　heavy　leather　band　encircled　his　forehead　to　keep　sweat　from　his　eyes。　He　held　an　ironwood　stick　in　one　hand；　sharp　on　one　end；　heavily　blunted　and　spatulate　on　the　other。　He　began　the　litany　which　all　of　them；　chosen　by　the　blind　blood　of　their　fathers；　had　known　since　early　childhood；　learned　against　the　day　when　they　would；　perchance；　bee　men。
〃Have　you　e　here　for　a　serious　purpose；　boy？〃
〃I　have　e　for　a　serious　purpose；　teacher。〃
〃Have　you　e　as　an　outcast　from　your　father's　house？〃
〃I　have　so　e；　teacher。〃　And　would　remain　outcast　until　he　had　bested　Cort。　If　Cort　bested　him；　he　would　remain　outcast　forever。
〃Have　you　e　with　your　chosen　weapon？〃
〃I　have　so　e；　teacher。〃
〃What　is　your　weapon？〃　This　was　the　teacher's　advantage；　his　chance　to　adjust　his　plan　of　battle　to　the　sling　or　the　spear　or　the　net。
〃My　weapon　is　David；　teacher。〃
Cort　halted　only　briefly。
〃So　then　have　you　at　me；　boy？〃
〃I　do。〃
〃Be　swift；　then。〃
And　Cort　advanced　into　the　corridor；　switching　his　pike　from　one　hand　to　the　other。　The　boys　sighed　flutteringly；　like　birds；　as　their　patriot　stepped　to　meet　him。
My　weapon　is　David；　teacher。
Did　Cort　remember？　Had　he　fully　understood？　If　so；　perhaps　it　was　all　lost。　It　turned　on　surprise　　and　on　whatever　stuff　the　hawk　had　left　in　him。　Would　he　only　sit；　disinterested；　on　the　boy's　arm；　while　Cort　struck　him　brainless　with　the　ironwood？　Or　seek　the　high；　hot　sky？
They　drew　close　together；　and　the　boy　loosened　the　hawk's　hood　with　nerveless　fingers。　It　dropped　to　the　green　grass；　and　the　boy　halted　in　his　tracks。　He　saw　Cort's　eyes　drop　to　the　bird　and　widen　with　surprise　and　slow…dawning　prehension。
Now；　then。
〃At　him！〃　The　boy　cried　and　raised　his　arm。
And　David　flew　like　a　silent　brown　bullet；　stubby　wings　pumping　once；　twice；　three　times；　before　crashing　into　Cort's　face；　talons　and　beak　searching。
〃Hai！　Roland！〃　Cuthbert　screamed　deliriously。
Cort　staggered　backwards；　off　balance。　The　ironwood　staff　rose　and　beat　futilely　at　the　air　about　his　head。　The　hawk　was　an　undulating；　blurred　bundle　of　feathers。
The　boy　arrowed　forward；　his　hand　held　out　in　a　straight　wedge；　his　elbow　locked。
Still；　Cort　was　almost　too　quick　for　him。　The　bird　had　covered　ninety　percent　of　his　vision；　but　the　ironwood　came　up　again；　spatulate　end　forward；　and　Cort　coldbloodly　performed　the　only　action　that　could　turn　events　at　that　point。　He　beat　his　own　face　three　times；　biceps　flexing　mercilessly。
David　fell　away；　broken　and　twisted。　One　wing　flapped　at　the　ground　frantically。　His　cold；　predator's　eyes　stared　fiercely　into　the　teacher's　bloody；　streaming　face。　Cort's　bad　eye　now　bulged　blindly　from　its　socket。
The　boy　delivered　a　kick　to　Cort's　temple；　connecting　solidly。　It　should　have　ended　it；　his　leg　had　been　numbed　by　Cort's　only　blow；　but　it　still　should　have　ended　it。　It　did　not。　For　a　moment　Cort's　face　went　slack；　and　then　he　lunged；　grabbing　for　the　boy's　foot。
The　boy　skipped　back　and　tripped　over　his　own　feet。　He　went　down　asprawl。　He　heard；　from　far　away　the　sound　of　Jamie's　scream。
Cort　was　up；　ready　to　fall　on　him　and　finish　it。　He　had　lost　his　advantage。　For　a　moment　they　looked　at　each　other；　the　teacher　standing　over　the　pupil；　with　gouts　of　blood　pouring　from　the　left　side　of　his　face；　the　bad　eye　now　closed　except　for　a　thin　slit　of　white。　There　would　be　no　brothels　for　Cort　this　night。
Something　ripped　jaggedly　at　the　boy's　hand。　It　was　the　hawk；　David；　tearing　blindly。　Both　wings　were　broken。　It　was　incredible　that　he　still　lived。
The　boy　grabbed　him　like　a　stone；　unmindful　of　the　jabbing；　diving　beak　that　was　taking　the　flesh　from　his　wrist　in　ribbons。　As　Cort　flew　at　him；　all　spread…eagled；　the　boy　threw　the　hawk　upward。
〃Hai！　David！　Kill！〃
Then　Cort　blotted　out　the　sun　and　came　down　atop　of　him。
The　bird　was　smashed　between　them；　and　the　boy　felt　a　calloused　thumb　probe　for　the　socket　of　his　eye。　He　turned　it；　at　the　same　time　bringing　up　the　slab　of　his　thigh　to　block　Cort's　crotch…seeking　knee。　His　own　hand　flailed　against　the　tree　of　Cort's　neck　in　three　hard　chops。　It　was　like　hitting　ribbed　stone。
Then　Cort　made　a　thick　grunting。　His　body　shuddered。　Faintly；　the　boy　saw　one　hand　flailing　for　the　dropped　stick；　and　with　a　jackknifing　lunge；　he　kicked　it　out　of　reach。　David　had　hooked　one　talon　into　Cort's　right　ear。　The　other　battered　mercilessly　at　the　teacher's　cheek；　making　it　a　ruin。　Warm　blood　splattered　the　boy's　face；　smelling　of　sheared　copper。
Cort's　fist　struck　the　bird　once；　breaking　it's　back。　Again；　and　the　neck　snapped　away　at　a　crooked　angle。　And　still　the　talon　clutched。　There　was　no　ear　now；　only　a　red　hole　tunneled　into　the　side　of　Cort's　skull。　The　third　blow　sent　the　bird　flying；　clearing　Cort's　face。
The　boy　brought　the　edge　of　his　hand　across　the　bridge　of　Cort's　nose；　breaking　the　thin　bone。　Blood　sprayed。
Cort's　grasping；　unseeing　hand　ripped　at　the　boy's　buttocks　and　Roland　rolled　away　blindly；　finding　Cort's　stick；　rising　to　his　knees。
Cort　came　to　his　own　knees；　grinning。　His　face　was　curtained　with　gore。　The　one　seeing　eye　rolled　madly　in　its　socket。　The　nose　was　smashed　over　to　a　haunted；　leaning　angle。　Both　cheeks　hung　in　flaps。
The　boy　held　his　stick　like　a　baseball　player　waiting　for　the　pitch。
Cort　double…feinted；　then　came　directly　at　him。
The　boy　was　ready。　The　ironwood　swung　in　a　flat　arc；　striking　Cort's　skull　with　a　dull　thudding　noise。　Cort　fell　on　his　side；　looking　at　the　boy　with　a　lazy　unseeing　expression。　A　tiny　trickle　of　spit　came　from　his　mouth。
〃Yield　or　die；〃　the　boy　said。　His　mouth　was　filled　with　wet　cotton。
And　Cort　smiled。　Nearly　all　consciousness　was　gone；　and　he　would　remain　tended　in　his　cottage　for　a　week　afterward；　wrapped　in　the　blackness　of　a；　but　now　he　held　on　with　all　the　strength　of　his　pitiless；　shadowless　life。
〃I　yield；　gunslinger。　I　yield　smiling。〃
Cort's　clear　eye　closed。
The　gunslinger　shook　him　gently；　but　with　persistence。　The　others　were　around　him　now；　their　hands　trembling　to　thump　his　back　and　hoist　him　to　their　shoulders；　but　they　held　back；　afraid；　sensing　a　new　gulf。　Yet　it　was　not　as　strange　as　it　could　have　been；　because　there　had　always　been　a　gulf　between　this　one　and　the　rest。
Cort's　eye　fluttered　open　again；　weakly。
〃The　key；〃　the　gunslinger　said。　〃My　birthright；　teacher。　I　need　it。〃
His　birthright　was　the　guns　　not　the　heavy　ones　of　his　father；　weighted　with　sandalwood　　but　guns；　all　the　same。　Forbidden　to　all　but　a　few。　The　ultimate；　the　final　weapon。　In　the　heavy　vault　under　the　barracks　where　he　by　ancient　law　was　now　required　to　abide；　away　from　his　mother's　breast；　hung　his　apprentice　weapons；　heavy　cumbersome　things　of　steel　and　nickel。　Yet　they　had　seen　his　father　through　his　apprenticeship；　and　his　father　now　ruled　at　least　in　name。
〃Is　it　so　fearsome；　then？〃　Cort　muttered；　as　if　in　his　sleep。　〃So　pressing？　I　feared　so。　And　yet　you　won。〃
〃The　key。〃
〃The　hawk　。　。　。　a　fine　ploy。　A　fine　weapon。　How　long　did　it　take　you　to　train　the　bastard？〃
〃I　never　trained　David。　I　friended　him。　The　key。〃
〃Under　my　belt；　gunslinger。〃　The　eye　closed　again。
The　gunslinger　reached　under　Cort's　belt；　feeling　the　heavy　press　of　his　belly；　the　huge　muscles　there　now　slack　and　asleep。　The　key　was　on　a　brass　ring。　He　clutched　it　in　his　hand；　restraining　the　mad　urge　to　thrust　it　up　to　the　sky　in　a　salutation　of　victory。
He　got　to　his　feet　and　was　finally　turning　to　the　others　when　Cort's　hand　fumbled　for　his　foot。　For　a　moment　the　gunslinger　feared　some　last　attack　and　tensed；　but　Cort　only　looked　up　at　him　and　beckoned　with　one　crusted　finger。
〃I'm　going　to　sleep　now；〃　Cort　whispered　calmly。　〃Perhaps　forever；　I　don't　know。　I　teach　you　no　more；　gunslinger。　You　have　surpassed　me；　and　two　years　younger　than　your　father；　who　was　the　youngest。　But