mck.harpistinthewind-第15部分

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ent；　he　waited；　seeing　her　oddly；　feverishly　in　the　firelight；　the　tangled　mass　of　her　hair　like　harvested　kelp；　her　skin　pale　as　shell；　her　expressions　changing　like　light　changing　over　the　sea。　Her　face　twisted　away　from　him　suddenly。　〃Stop　seeing　me　like　that！〃　〃I'm　sorry；〃　he　said　again；　〃You　looked　so　beautiful。　Do　you　realize　what　kind　of　power　it　takes　to　break　one　of　my　bindings？〃
　　　　　　　〃Yes。　A　shape…changer's　power。　That's　what　I　have。〃
　　　　　　　He　was　silent；　staring　at　her。　A　light；　chill　shudder　ran　through　him。　〃They　have　that　much　power。〃　He　sat　up　abruptly；　scarcely　noticing　the　drag　of　pain　down　his　shoulder。　〃Why　don't　they　use　it？　They　never　use　it。　They　should　have　killed　me　long　ago。　In　Herun；　the　shape…changer　Corrig　could　have　killed　me　as　I　slept；　instead　he　only　harped。　He　challenged　me　to　kill　him。　In　Isig　…　three　shape…changers　could　not　kill　one　farmer…prince　of　Hed　who　had　never　used　a　sword　in　his　life？　What　in　Hel's　name　are　they？　What　do　they　want　of　me？　What　does　Ghisteslwchlohm　want？〃
　　　　　　　〃Do　you　think　they　killed　him？〃
　　　　　　　〃I　don't　know。　He　would　have　had　sense　enough　to　run。　I'm　surprised　we　didn't　find　him　in　the　wagon　with　us。〃
　　　　　　　〃They'll　look　for　you　in　Lungold。〃
　　　　　　　〃I　know。〃　He　slid　his　palms　over　his　face。　〃I　know。　Maybe　with　the　wizards'　help；　I　can　draw　them　away　from　the　city。　I've　got　to　get　there　quickly。　I've　got　to。。。〃
　　　　　　　〃I　know。〃　She　drew　a　deep　breath　and　loosed　it　wearily。　〃Morgon；　teach　me　the　crow…shape。　At　least　it's　a　shape　of　the　Kings　of　An。　And　it's　faster　than　walking　barefoot。〃
　　　　　　　He　lifted　his　head。　He　lay　back　down　after　a　moment；　drew　her　down　with　him；　searching　for　some　way　to　speak　at　once　all　the　thoughts　crowding　into　his　head。　He　said　finally；　〃I'll　learn　to　harp；〃　and　he　felt　her　smile　against　his　breast。　Then　all　his　thoughts　froze　into　a　single　memory　of　a　halting　harping　out　of　the　dark。　He　did　not　realize　he　was　crying　again　until　he　lifted　his　hand　to　touch　his　eyes。　Raederle　was　silent；　holding　him　gently。　He　said；　after　a　long　time；　when　her　fire　had　died　down；　〃I　sat　with　Deth　in　the　night　not　because　I　was　hoping　to　understand　him；　but　because　he　drew　me　there；　he　wanted　me　there。　And　he　didn't　keep　me　there　with　his　harping　or　his　words；　but　something　powerful　enough　to　bind　me　across　all　my　anger。　I　came　because　he　wanted　me。　He　wanted　me；　so　I　came。　Do　you　understand　that？〃
　　　　　　　〃Morgon；　you　loved　him；〃　she　whispered。　〃That　was　the　binding。〃
　　　　　　　He　was　silent　again；　thinking　back　to　the　still；　shadowed　face　beyond　the　flame；　listening　to　the　harpist's　silence　until　he　could　almost　hear　the　sound　of　riddles　spun　like　spider's　web　in　the　darkness　in　a　vast；　secret　game　that　made　his　death　itself　a　riddle。　Finally　some　herb　Raederle　had　laid　against　his　cheek　breathed　across　his　mind　and　he　slept　again。
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　He　taught　her　the　crow…shape　the　next　morning　when　they　woke　at　dawn。　He　went　into　her　mind；　found　deep　in　it　crow…images；　tales　of　them；　memories　she　scarcely　knew　were　there：　her　father's　unreadable　crow…black　eyes；　crows　among　the　oak　trees　surrounding　Raith's　pigherds；　crows　flying　through　the　history　of　An；　carrion…eaters；　message…bearers；　cairn…guardians；　their　voices　full　of　mockery；　bitter　warnings；　poetry。
　　　　　　　〃Where　did　they　all　e　from？〃　she　murmured；　amazed。
　　　　　　　〃They　are　of　the　land…law　of　An。　The　power　and　heart　of　An。　Nothing　more。〃
　　　　　　　He　called　a　sleepy　crow　out　of　one　of　the　trees　around　them；　it　landed　on　his　wrist。　〃Can　you　go　into　my　mind？　See　behind　my　eyes；　into　my　thoughts？〃　
　　　　　　　〃I　don't　know。〃
　　　　　　　〃Try。　It　won't　be　hard　for　you。〃　He　opened　his　mind　to　the　crow…mind；　drew　its　brain…workings　into　his　own；　until　he　saw　his　blurred；　nameless　face　out　of　its　eyes。　He　heard　movements；　precise　and　isolated　as　flute　notes；　under　dead　leaves；　under　oak　roots。　He　began　to　understand　its　language。　It　gave　a　squawk；　more　curious　than　impatient　His　mind　filled　then　with　a　sense　of　Raederle；　as　if　she　were　within　him；　touching　him　gently；　filling　him　like　light。　His　throat　ached　with　wonder。　For　a　moment　the　three　minds　drew　from　one　another；　fearlessly；　tentatively。　Then　the　crow　cried；　its　wings　soared　blackly　over　Morgon's　vision。　He　was　left　alone　in　his　mind；　groping　for　something　that　had　gone　out　of　him。　A　crow　fluttered　up；　landed　on　his　shoulder。　He　looked　into　its　eyes。
　　　　　　　He　smiled　slowly。　The　crow；　its　wings　beating　awkwardly；　swooped　to　a　high　branch。　It　missed　its　perch　landing。　Then　it　caught　itself；　and　the　fine　balance　of　instinct　and　knowledge　within　it　wavered。　The　crow　became　Raederle；　dodging　leaves　as　she　changed　shape。
　　　　　　　She　looked　down　at　Morgon；　breathless　and　astonished。　〃Stop　laughing。　Morgon；　I　flew。　Now；　how　in　Hel's　name　do　I　get　down？〃
　　　　　　　〃Fly。〃
　　　　　　　〃I've　forgotten　how！〃
　　　　　　　He　flew　up　beside　her；　one　wing　stiff　with　his　half…healed　wound。　He　changed　shape　again。　The　branch　creaked　a　warning　under　his　weight；　and　she　gasped。　〃We'll　fall　in　the　river！　Morgon；　it's　breaking！〃　She　fluttered　up　again　with　a　squawk。　Morgon　joined　her。　They　streaked　the　sunrise　with　black；　soared　high　above　the　woods　until　they　saw　the　hundreds　of　miles　of　endless　forest　and　the　great　road　hewn　through　it；　crossing　the　realm。　They　rose　until　traders'　wagons　were　only　tiny　lumbering　insects　crawling　down　a　ribbon　of　dust。　They　dropped　slowly；　spiralling　together；　their　wings　beating　the　same　slow　rhythm；　winding　lesser　and　lesser　rings　through　the　sunlight　until　they　traced　one　last　black　circle　above　the　river。　They　landed　among　ferns　on　the　bank；　changed　shape。　They　gazed　at　one　another　wordlessly　in　the　morning。　Raederle　whispered；
　　　　　　　〃Your　eyes　are　full　of　wings。〃
　　　　　　　〃Your　eyes　are　full　of　the　sun。〃
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　IX
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　THEY　　　FLEW　　　IN　　CROW…SHAPE　　　FOR　　　THE　　　NEXT　　　TWO　weeks。　The　silent　golden　oak　forest　melted　away　at　the　edge　of　the　backlands。　The　road　turned；　pushed　northward　through　rich；　dark　forests　of　pine　whose　silence　seemed　undisturbed　by　the　passage　of　centuries。　It　wound　up　dry　rocky　hills　pounded　the　color　of　brass　by　the　noon　sun；　bridged　chasms　through　which　silvery　veins　of　water…flowing　down　from　the　Lungold　Lakes　flashed　and　roared　against　sheer　walls　of　stone。　Trees　blurred　endlessly　together　in　the　crows'　vision；　ebbed　toward　a　faint　blue　mist　of　mountains　bordering　the　remote　western　edges　of　the　backlands。　By　day　the　sun　fired　the　sky　a　flawless；　metallic　blue。　The　night　shook　stars　from　one　horizon　to　another；　down　to　the　rim　of　the　world。　The　voices　of　the　back…lands；　of　land　and　stone　and　ancient　untamed　wind；　were　too　loud　for　sound。　Beneath　them　lay　a　silence　implacable　as　granite。　Morgon　felt　it　as　he　flew；　he　breathed　it　into　his　bones；　sensed　its　strange；　cold　touch　in　his　heart。　He　would　grope　away　from　it　at　first；　reach　into　Raederle's　mind　to　share　a　vague；　inarticulate　language。　Then　the　silence　wore　slowly　into　the　rhythm　of　his　flight　and　finally　into　a　song。　At　last；　when　he　scarcely　remembered　his　own　language　and　knew　Raederle　only　as　a　dark；　wind…sculpted　shape；　he　saw　the　interminable　trees　part　before　them。　In　the　distance；　the　great　city　founded　by　Ghisteslwchlohm　sprawled　against　the　shores　of　the　first　of　the　Lungold　Lakes；　glinting　of　copper　and　bronze　and　gold　under　the　last　rays　of　the　sun。
　　　　　　　The　crows　beat　a　final　weary　flight　toward　their　destination。　The　forest　had　been　pushed　back　for　miles　around　the　city　to　make　room　for　fields；　pastures；　orchards。　The　cool　scent　of　pine　yielded　to　the　smell　of　harrowed　earth　and　crops　that　teased　at　Morgon's　crow…instincts。　Trader's　Road；　striped　with　shadow；　ran　its　last　scarred　mile　into　the　mouth　of　the　city。　The　gateway　was　a　fragile；　soaring　arch　of　dark　polished　timber　and　white　stone。　The　city　walls　were　immense；　thick；　buttressed　with　arms　of　timber　and　stone　that　rose　high　above　the　buildings　scattered　beyond　the　old　bounds　of　the　city。　Newer　streets　had　made　inroads　into　the　ancient　walls；　lesser　gateways　opened　in　it；　houses　and　shops　had　grow　against；　and　even　on　top　of　the　walls；　as　if　their　builders　had　long　forgotten　the　terror　that　had　flung　the　walls　up　seven　centuries　before。
　　　　　　　The　crows　reached　the　main　gate；　rested　among　the　arches。　The　gates　themselves　looked　as　if　they　had　not　been　closed　for　centuries。　They　were　of　thick　slabs　of　oak；　hinged　and　reinforced　with　bronze。　Birds　were　nesting　on　the　hinges　in　the　shadows。　Within　the　walls；　a　maze　of　cobbled　streets　wandered　away　in　all　directions；　lined　by　brightly　painted　inns；　trade…halls；　merchants'　and　craftsmen's　shops；　houses　with　tapestries　and　flowers　trailing　from　the　windows。　Morgon；　sifting　through　his　crow…vision；　saw　across　the　rooftops　and　chimneys　to　the　north　edge　of　the　city。　The　setting　sun　struck　the　lake　with　a　full；　broad　battery；　spangling　it　with　fire；　until　the　hundred　fishing…boats　moored　at　the　docks　seemed　to　burn　on　the　water。
　　　　　　　He　fluttered　to　the　ground　in　the　angle　between　the　open　gate　and　the　wall　and　changed　shape。　Raederle　followed　him。　They　stood　looking　at　one　another；　their　faces　thin；　stamped　with　the　wildness　and　silence　of　the　backlands；　half…unfamiliar。　Then　Morgon；　remembering　he　had　an　arm；　put　it　around　Raederle's　shoulders　and　kissed　her　almost　tentatively。　The　expression　began　to　e　back　into　her　face。
　　　　　　　〃What　in　Hel's　name　did　we　do？〃　she　whispered。　〃Morgon；　I　feel　as　if　I　have　been　dreaming　for　a　hundred　years。〃
　　　　　　　〃Only　a　couple　of　weeks。　We're　in　Lungold。〃
　　　　　　　〃Let's　go　home。〃　Then　a　strange　look　came　into　her　eyes。　〃What　have　we　been　eating？〃
　　　　　　　〃Don't　think　about　it。〃　He　listened。　The　traffic　through　the　gate　had　almost　stopped；　he　heard　only　one　slow　horseman　preceding　the　twilight　into　the　city。　He　took　her　hand。　〃Let's　go。〃
　　　　　　　〃Where？〃
　　　　　　　〃Can't　you　smell　it？　It's　there；　at　the　edge　of　my　mind。　A　stench　of　power。。。〃
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　It　drew　him　through　the　twisting　streets。　The　city　was　quiet；　for　it　was　supper　hour；　the　succulent　smells　out　of　inns　they　passed　made　them　both　murmur。　But　they　had　no　money；　and　with　Morgon's　torn　clothing　and　Raederle's　bare　feet；　they　looked　almost　like　beggars。　The　sense　of　decayed；　misused　power　pulled　Morgon　toward　the　heart