df.therunelords-第1部分

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　IT　BEGINS　IN　DARKNESS
　　
　Effigies　of　the　Earth　King　festooned　the　city　around　Castle　Sylvarresta。　Everywhere　the　effigies　could　be　seenhanging　beneath　shopwindows；　standing　upright　against　the　walls　of　the　city　gates；　or　nailed　beside　doorwaysstationed　any　place　where　the　Earth　King　might　find　ingress　into　a　home。
　Many　of　the　figures　were　crude　things　crafted　by　childrena　few　reeds　twisted　into　the　form　of　a　man；　often　with　a　crown　of　oak　leaves　in　its　hair。　But　outside　the　doors　of　shops　and　taverns　were　more　ornate　figures　of　wood；　the　full　size　of　a　man；　often　elaborately　painted　and　coifed　in　fine　green　wool　traveling　robes。
　In　those　days；　it　was　said　that　on　Hostenfest　Eve　the　spirit　of　the　earth　would　fill　the　effigies　and　the　Earth　King　would　waken。　At　his　wakening；　he　would　protect　the　family　for　another　season　and　help　bear　the　harvest　home。
　It　was　a　festive　season；　a　season　of　joy。　On　Hostenfest　Eve　the　father　in　a　home　would　play　the　role　of　Earth　King　by　setting　gifts　before　the　hearth。　Thus；　at　dawn　on　the　first　day　of　Hostenfest；　adults　received　flasks　of　new　wine　or　kegs　of　stout　ale。　For　the　young　girls　the　Earth　King　brought　toy　dolls　woven　of　straw　and　wildflowers；　while　boys　might　get　swords　or　oxcarts　carved　from　ash。
　All　these　bounties　delivered　by　the　Earth　King　represented　but　a　token　of　the　Earth　King's　wealththe　vast　hoards　of　the　〃fruits　of　the　forest　and　of　the　field〃　which　legend　said　he　bestowed　on　those　who　loved　the　land。
　So　the　homes　and　shops　around　the　castle　were　well　adorned　that　night；　on　the　nineteenth　day　of　the　Month　of　Harvest；　four　days　before　Hostenfest。　All　the　shops　were　clean　and　well　stocked　for　the　autumn　fair　that　would　shortly　e。
　The　streets　lay　barren；　for　dawn　was　approaching。　Aside　from　the　city　guards　and　a　few　nursing　mothers；　the　only　ones　who　had　reason　to　be　up　so　late　of　the　night　were　the　King's　bakers；　who　at　that　very　moment　were　drawing　the　foam　off　the　King's　ale　and　mixing　it　with　their　dough　so　that　the　loaves　would　rise　by　dawn。　True；　the　eels　were　running　on　their　annual　migration　in　the　River　Wye；　so　one　might　imagine　a　few　fishermen　to　be　out　by　night；　but　the　fishermen　had　emptied　their　wicker　eel　traps　an　hour　past　midnight　and　had　delivered　kegs　of　live　eels　to　the　butcher　for　skinning　and　salting　well　before　the　second　watch。
　Outside　the　city　walls；　the　greens　south　of　Castle　Sylvarresta　were　dotted　with　dark　pavilions；　for　caravans　from　Indhopal　had　e　north　to　sell　the　harvest　of　summer　spices。　The　camps　outside　the　castle　were　quiet　but　for　the　occasional　braying　of　a　donkey。
　The　walls　of　the　city　were　shut；　and　all　foreigners　had　been　escorted　from　the　merchants'　quarter　hours　ago。　No　men　moved　on　the　streets　at　that　time　of　nightonly　a　few　ferrin。
　Thus　there　was　no　one　to　see　what　transpired　in　a　dark　alley。　Even　the　King's　far…seer；　who　had　endowments　of　sight　from　seven　people　and　stood　guard　on　the　old　graak's　aerie　above　the　Dedicates'　Keep；　could　not　have　spotted　movement　down　in　the　narrow　streets　of　the　merchants'　quarter。
　But　in　Cat's　Alley；　just　off　the　Butterwalk；　two　men　struggled　in　the　shadows　for　control　of　a　knife。
　Could　you　have　seen　them；　you　might　have　been　reminded　of　tarantulas　in　battle：　arms　and　legs　twisting　in　frenzy　as　the　knife　flashed　upward；　scuffling　as　feet　groped　for　purchase　on　the　worn　cobblestones；　both　men　grunting　and　straining　with　deadly　intent。
　Both　men　were　dressed　in　black。　Sergeant　Dreys　of　the　King's　Guard　wore　black　livery　embroidered　with　the　silver　boar　of　House　Sylvarresta。　Dreys'　assailant　wore　a　baggy　black　cotton　burnoose　in　a　style　favored　by　assassins　out　of　Muyyatin。
　Though　Sergeant　Dreys　outweighed　the　assassin　by　fifty　pounds；　and　though　Dreys　had　endowments　of　brawn　from　three　men　and　could　easily　lift　six　hundred　pounds　over　his　head；　he　feared　he　could　not　win　this　battle。
　Only　starlight　lit　the　street；　and　precious　little　of　that　made　its　way　here　into　Cat's　Alley。　The　alley　was　barely　seven　feet　wide；　and　homes　here　stood　three　stories　tall；　leaning　on　sagging　foundations　till　the　awnings　of　their　roofs　nearly　met　a　few　yards　above　Dreys'　head。
　Dreys　could　hardly　see　a　damned　thing　back　here。　All　he　could　make　out　of　his　assailant　was　the　gleam　of　the　man's　eyes　and　teeth；　a　pearl　ring　in　his　left　nostril；　the　flash　of　the　knife。　The　smell　of　woodlands　clung　to　his　cotton　tunic　as　fiercely　as　the　scents　of　anise　and　curry　held　to　his　breath。
　No；　Dreys　was　not　prepared　to　fight　here　in　Cat's　Alley。　He　had　no　weapons　and　wore　only　the　linen　surcoat　that　normally　fit　over　his　ring　mail；　along　with　pants　and　boots。　One　does　not　go　armed　and　armored　to　meet　his　lover。
　He'd　only　stepped　into　the　alley　a　moment　ago；　to　make　certain　the　road　ahead　was　clear　of　city　guards；　when　he　heard　a　small　scuffling　behind　a　stack　of　yellow　gourds　by　one　of　the　market　stalls。　Dreys　had　thought　he'd　disturbed　a　ferrin　as　it　hunted　for　mice　or　for　some　bit　of　cloth　to　wear。　He'd　turned；　expecting　to　see　a　pudgy　rat…shaped　creature　run　for　cover；　when　the　assassin　sprang　from　the　shadows。
　Now　the　assassin　moved　swiftly；　grasping　the　knife　tight；　shifting　his　weight；　twisting　the　blade。　It　flashed　dangerously　close　to　Dreys'　ear；　but　the　sergeant　fought　it　offtill　the　man's　arm　snaked　around；　stabbing　at　Dreys'　throat。　Dreys　managed　to　hold　the　smaller　man's　wrist　back　for　a　moment。　〃Murder。　Bloody　murder！〃　Dreys　shouted。
　A　spy！　he　thought。　I've　caught　a　spy！　He　could　only　imagine　that　he'd　disturbed　the　fellow　in　mapping　out　the　castle　grounds。
　He　thrust　a　knee　into　the　assassin's　groin；　lifting　the　man　in　the　air。　Pulled　the　man's　knife　arm　full　length　and　tried　to　twist　it。
　The　assassin　let　go　of　the　knife　with　one　hand　and　rabbit…punched　Dreys　in　the　chest。
　Dreys'　ribs　snapped。　Obviously　the　little　man　had　also　been　branded　with　runes　of　power。　Dreys　guessed　that　the　assassin　had　the　brawn　of　five　men；　maybe　more。　Though　both　men　were　incredibly　strong；　endowments　of　brawn　increased　strength　only　to　the　muscles　and　tendons。　They　did　not　invest　one's　bones　with　any　superior　hardness。　So　this　match　was　quickly　degenerating　into　what　Dreys　would　call　〃a　bone…bash。〃
　He　struggled　to　hold　the　assassin's　wrists。　For　a　long　moment　they　wrestled。
　Dreys　heard　deep…voiced　shouts：　〃That　way；　I　think！　Over　there！〃　They　came　from　the　left。　A　street　over　was　Cheap　Streetwhere　the　bunched　houses　did　not　press　so　close；　and　where　Sir　Guilliam　had　built　his　new　four…story　manor。　The　voices　had　to　be　from　the　City　Guardthe　same　guards　Dreys　had　been　avoidingwhom　Sir　Guilliam　bribed　to　rest　beneath　the　lantern　post　at　the　manor　gate。
　〃Cat's　Alley！〃　Dreys　screamed。　He　only　had　to　hold　the　assassin　a　moment　moremake　sure　the　fellow　didn't　stab　him；　or　escape。
　The　Southerner　broke　free　in　desperation；　punched　him　again；　high　in　the　chest。　More　ribs　snapped。　Dreys　felt　little　pain。　One　tends　to　ignore　such　distractions　when　struggling　to　stay　alive。
　In　desperation　the　assassin　ripped　the　knife　free。　Dreys　felt　a　tremendous　rush　of　fear　and　kicked　the　assassin's　right　ankle。　He　felt　more　than　heard　a　leg　shatter。
　The　assassin　lunged；　knife　flashing。　Dreys　twisted　away；　shoved　the　fellow。　The　blade　struck　wide　of　its　mark；　slashed　Dreys'　ribs；　a　grazing　blow。
　Now　Dreys　grabbed　the　fellow's　elbow；　had　the　man　half…turned　around。　The　assassin　stumbled；　unable　to　support　himself　on　his　broken　leg。　Dreys　kicked　the　leg　again　for　good　measure；　and　pushed　the　fellow　back。
　Dreys　glanced　frantically　into　the　shadows　for　sign　of　some　cobblestone　that　might　have　e　loose　from　its　mortar。　He　wanted　a　weapon。　Behind　Dreys　was　an　inn　called　the　Churn。　Beside　the　flowering　vines　and　the　effigy　of　the　Earth　King　at　its　front　window　sat　a　small　butter　churn。　Dreys　tried　to　rush　to　the　churn；　thinking　to　grab　its　iron　plunger　and　use　it　to　bludgeon　the　assassin。
　He　pushed　the　assassin；　thinking　the　smaller　man　would　go　flying。　Instead　the　fellow　spun；　one　hand　clutching　Dreys'　surcoat。　Dreys　saw　the　knife　blade　plunge。
　He　raised　an　arm　to　block。
　The　blade　veered　low　and　struck　deep；　slid　up　through　his　belly；　past　shattered　ribs。　Tremendous　pain　blossomed　in　Dreys'　gut；　shot　through　his　shoulders　and　arms；　a　pain　so　wide　Dreys　thought　the　whole　world　would　feel　it　with　him。
　For　an　eternity；　Dreys　stood；　looking　down。　Sweat　dribbled　into　his　wide　eyes。　The　damned　assassin　had　slit　him　open　like　a　fish。　Yet　the　assassin　still　held　himhad　thrust　his　knife　arm　up　to　the　wrist　into　Dreys'　chest；　working　the　blade　toward　Dreys'　heart；　while　his　left　hand　reached　for　Dreys'　pocket；　groping　for　something。
　His　hand　clutched　at　the　book　in　Dreys'　pocket；　feeling　it　through　the　material　of　the　surcoat。　The　assassin　smiled。
　Dreys　wondered；　Is　that　what　you　want？　A　book？
　Last　night；　as　the　City　Guard　had　been　escorting　foreigners　from　the　merchants'　quarter；　Dreys　had　been　approached　by　a　man　from　Tuulistan；　a　trader　whose　tent　was　pitched　near　the　woods。　The　fellow　spoke　little　Rofehavanish；　had　seemed　apprehensive。　He　had　only　said；　〃A　giftfor　king。　You　give？　Give　to　king？〃
　With　much　ceremonial　nodding；　Dreys　had　agreed；　had　looked　at　the　book　absently。　The　Chronicles　of　Owatt；　Emir　of　Tuulistan。　A　thin　volume　bound　in　lambskin。　Dreys　had　pocketed　it；　thinking　to　pass　it　along　at　dawn。
　Dreys　hurt　so　terribly　now　that　he　could　not　shout；　could　not　move。　The　world　spun；　he　pulled　free　of　the　assassin；　tried　to　turn　and　run。　His　legs　felt　as　weak　as　a　kitten's。　He　stumbled。　The　assassin　grabbed　Dreys'　hair　from　behind；　yanking　his　chin　up　to　expose　his　throat。
　Damn　you；　Dreys　thought；　haven't　you　killed　me　enough？　In　one　final　desperate　act；　he　yanked　the　book　from　his　pocket；　hurled　it　across　the　Butterwalk。
　There　on　the　far　side　of　the　street　a　rosebush　struggled　up　an　arbor　near　a　pile　of　barrels。　Dreys　knew　this　place　well；　could　barely　see　the　yellow　roses　on　dark　vines。　The　book　skidded　toward　them。
　The　assassin　cursed　in　his　own　tongue；　tossing　Dreys　aside；　and　limped　after　the　book。
　Dreys　could　hear　nothing　but　a　dull　buzz　as　he　struggled　to　his　knees。　He　glimpsed　movement　at　the　edge　of　the　streetthe　assassin　groping　among　the　roses。　Three　l