df.therunelords-第46部分

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owmen　to　the　sides　to　clear　the　nomen。〃
　The　air　was　filling　with　smoke　from　the　fires　in　the　fields　and　in　the　woods　downhill。
　The　knights　of　Orden　formed　ranks；　charged　through　the　trees；　down　to　the　east　field。　Borenson　had　no　lance；　and　so　took　the　middle　of　the　pack；　near　the　front；　so　that　he　could　direct。
　As　his　horse　thundered　through　the　mist；　Borenson　saw　a　huge　giant　looming　off　to　his　left；　a　great　shaggy　mound　in　the　dense　fog。　Two　lancers　veered；　slammed　into　the　beast。
　The　wounded　monster　bawled　out；　slashed　with　its　enormous　claws；　sent　a　warhorse　sprawling　as　if　it　were　a　pup；　snapped　a　warrior　in　half　with　its　tremendous　jaws。
　Then　Borenson　was　charging　past　that　battle。　A　few　bowmen　had　spurred　into　that　fray。
　Two　more　giants　came　wading　through　the　fog。　Nomen　had　gathered　in　their　wake；　taking　courage。　Twenty　of　Borenson's　knights　veered　toward　them。　Borenson's　heart　hammered。　One　giant　roared　in　rage；　calling　others。　A　vast　horde　of　giants　and　nomen　came　rushing　together；　dark　hills　with　a　black　tide　of　spearmen　behind。　A　shout　of　triumph　rose　from　the　monsters'　throats。
　Borenson's　heart　nearly　stopped。　For　in　their　midst　rode　hundreds　of　soldiers　with　brass　shields。　At　their　head；　one　huge　warrior　in　black　scale　mail；　with　a　helm　of　white　owl's　wings；　raised　a　great　warhammer　and　shouted　a　war　cry　with　a　voice　of　a　thousand　men：　〃Kuanzaya！〃
　The　fellow　struck　terror　into　Borenson's　heart；　for　he　bore　the　armor　and　the　weapons　of　kings。
　Raj　Ahten　had　his　helm　raised；　and　he　was　the　most　astonishingly　handsome　man　Borenson　had　ever　seen。　The　magnificent　volume　of　the　Runelord's　voice　made　Borenson's　horse　stagger　in　its　tracks。　Witless　with　fear　at　the　sound　of　the　war　cry；　it　struggled　to　retreat。　Borenson　shouted　for　it　to　charge；　but　Raj　Ahten's　voice　had　been　so　deafening；　perhaps　it　had　damaged　the　mount's　hearing。
　The　horse　thundered　to　a　halt；　fighting　its　reins；　trying　to　turn　on　Borenson。　Borenson　managed　to　pivot　it　toward　the　enemy。　Then　they　were　in　thick　battle。　Borenson's　lancers　frantically　charged　the　giants；　spreading　the　cavalry　dangerously　thin；　bowmen　firing　a　hail　of　arrows；　while　Borenson　himself　struggled　to　charge　Raj　Ahten。
　His　mount　would　not　go　near　that　man；　fought　instead　to　flee。　It　raced　to　Borenson's　left；　and　Borenson　found　himself　charging　into　the　thick　of　giants　as　Raj　Ahten　swept　past；　warhammer　rising　and　falling　with　incredible　speed　as　he　blazed　a　bloody　trail　through　the　ranks　of　defenders。
　A　giant　rushed　at　Borenson　through　the　fog；　swung　a　huge　oaken　staff。　Borenson　ducked　the　blow；　fled　past　the　giant；　into　a　knot　of　nomen　who　hissed　and　snarled；　happy　to　see　a　lone　soldier　in　their　midst。　Several　giants　raced　past　Borenson；　seeking　the　heart　of　the　battle。
　Somewhere　behind　him；　one　of　Borenson's　lieutenants　began　blowing　his　war　horn；　desperately　sounding　retreat。
　Borenson　raised　his　hammer　and　shield；　began　to　chuckle　as　he　fought　for　his　life。
　　
　Chapter　17
　IN　THE　QUEEN'S　TOMB
　　
　Three　hours　after　a　perfect　pink　dawn；　Iome　stood　atop　the　Dedicates'　Keep　and　watched　as　Raj　Ahten　and　a　thousand　of　his　Invincibles　rode　back　into　the　castle；　along　with　dozens　of　Frowth　giants　and　hundreds　of　war　dogsall　amid　cheers　and　shouts　of　celebration。　The　fog　on　the　downs　had　burned　away；　but　a　few　wisps　still　clung　amid　the　shadows　of　the　Dunnwood。
　Apparently；　the　Wolf　Lord　had　taken　a　great　chance；　had　gone　to　skirmish　with　Orden's　troops　in　the　woods；　and　had　succeeded　in　killing　and　scattering　them。
　Raj　Ahten's　men　rode　smartly；　weapons　raised　in　salute。
　Chemoise　had　brought　Iome　here　to　the　Dedicates'　Keep　at　first　sign　of　attack。　〃For　your　own　protection；〃　she'd　said。
　The　remains　of　many　a　tent　and　farm　still　burned　out　on　the　fields；　and　a　wildfire　ran　amok　through　the　Dunnwood；　blown　now　by　the　easterly　winds；　two　miles　from　the　castle。
　For　a　while　the　flames　had　squirmed　more　like　a　living　thingtendrils　shooting　out　in　odd　directions；　plucking　a　tree　here；　exploding　a　haycock　there；　consuming　a　home　with　greed。
　The　blazes　within　the　castle　had　extinguished；　for　Raj　Ahten's　flame…weavers　drew　the　power　from　them。　And　though　Raj　Ahten　sent　men　among　the　streets　to　seek　the　murderer　of　his　flameweaver；　his　beloved　pyromancer；　he　did　so　to　poor　effect。　The　elemental　had　consumed　most　of　Market　Street；　destroying　any　trace　of　the　identity　of　her　murderer。
　In　the　charred　and　smoking　ruins　outside　the　gates　of　Castle　Sylvarresta；　one　could　see　many　signs　of　destruction。　A　thousand　nomen　had　burned　near　the　moat；　where　they'd　sought　to　make　their　stand　against　Orden's　mounted　knights。　One　could　count　Orden's　fallen　knights　among　them；　tootwo　hundred　or　so　blackened　lumps　that　had　once　been　men　in　bright　armor；　clustered　in　smoking　heaps　along　the　battle　lines。
　Hundreds　more　nomen　lay　strewn　at　the　edge　of　the　woods；　where　the　battle　must　first　have　raged　fierce　and　heavy。　The　trees　there　were　now　nothing　but　blackened　skeletons。
　Three　dozen　Frowth　giants　littered　the　battlefield；　strange…looking　creatures；　with　their　hair　burned　off。　Iome　had　never　envisioned　them　thuseach　with　pink　skin　and　a　long　snout　like　a　camel's；　the　hugeness　of　their　claws。　From　atop　the　Dedicates'　Keep；　they　looked　like　misshapen；　hairless　mice；　dotting　the　battlefield。　Some　dead　giants　still　held　knights　and　their　horses　in　their　paws。
　Raj　Ahten's　horses　were　dead；　cut　down　with　many　of　the　guards　who'd　been　stationed　at　the　edge　of　the　wood。
　Yet　now　his　men　celebrated　a　victory；　a　battle　won。
　Iome　did　not　know　if　she　should　rejoice　at　Raj　Ahten's　victory；　or　weep　for　Orden。
　She　was　a　Dedicate　now　to　Raj　Ahten。　Rather　than　fear　Raj　Ahten；　Iome　now　had　to　fear　assassination　at　the　hands　of　other　kings；　or　from　the　Knights　Equitable　who　battled　the　Wolf　Lord。
　Chemoise　stood　at　Iome's　side；　gazed　over　the　blackened　fields；　weeping　as　Raj　Ahten's　troops　rode　to　the　castle。　Smoke　still　crept　over　the　ash；　and　stumps　burned　all　the　way　to　the　hill　and　into　the　woods。
　Why　does　Chemoise　cry？　Iome　wondered。　Then　she　realized　that　she；　too；　had　eyes　filled　with　tears。
　Iome　understood。　Chemoise　cried　because　the　world　had　gone　black。　Black　fields。　Black　woods。　Black　days　ahead。　Iome　drew　her　hooded　robe　more　tightly　around　her；　hiding　her　face。　The　heavy　wool　seemed　thin　protection。
　Some　of　Raj　Ahten's　troops　waited　down　in　the　lower　bailey。　Raj　Ahten　rode　from　the　battlefield　toward　the　city　gates；　to　meet　with　his　flame…weavers　and　counselors。　Even　the　Frowth　giants　ducked　under　the　posterns　of　the　gates　and　came　into　the　lower　bailey；　seeking　protection。
　In　the　hills　to　the　south；　a　hunting　horn　rang　out；　followed　by　another　farther　east；　and　another。　A　few　last　stragglers　from　Orden's　army　perhaps；　calling　to　one　another。
　Iome　waited　for　Raj　Ahten's　men　to　turn　around；　ride　out；　and　mop　up　the　survivors。　Given　the　strength　of　his　forces；　she　did　not　understand　why　so　many　of　his　men　remained　here　in　the　castle。
　Unless　something　had　happened　on　the　battlefield　that　she　couldn't　see。　Perhaps　Raj　Ahten　feared　for　his　own　men。　Perhaps　they　were　weaker　than　she　believed。　The　Wolf　Lord　must　have　feared　to　chase　Orden's　men　any　farther；　for　he　knew　full　well　that　he　could　get　drawn　into　an　ambush。
　Raj　Ahten's　wisdom　went　far　beyond　Iome's。　If　he　was　frightened；　perhaps　he　had　good　reason　to　fear。　Yesterday；　Gaborn　had　told　Iome　that　King　Orden　could　soon　reach　the　castle　with　reinforcements。
　Iome　hadn't　given　it　much　thought。　Orden　often　brought　a　couple　hundred　men　in　his　retinue。　What　could　they　do？
　Yet　Gaborn　clearly　believed　the　force　was　powerful　enough　to　strike　at　Raj　Ahten。　Gaborn　had　never　spoken　the　number　of　his　father's　troops；　she　now　realized。　Wisely　so。　House　Sylvarresta　could　not　divulge　information　it　didn't　have。
　Iome　glanced　at　her　Days；　who　sat　a　few　paces　off；　with　her　mother's　Days；　both　of　them　watching　the　dark　fields。　They　knew　how　many　men　Orden　had　brought；　knew　every　move　each　king　was　making。　Yet　for　good　or　ill；　the　Days　only　watched　the　armies　move　like　pieces　across　a　chessboard。
　How　many　men　had　Orden　brought　to　Hostenfest　this　year？　A　thousand？　Five　thousand？
　Mystarria　was　a　rich　country；　populous。　King　Orden　had　brought　his　son　with　a　proposal　of　marriage。　It　was　mon　with　such　proposals　for　a　royal　family　to　make　some　display　of　wealth；　to　marshal　some　soldiers；　engage　the　knights　in　friendly　petitions。
　Orden　would　have　many　of　his　best　men　on　hand。　Five　hundred　of　them；　perhaps。
　Yet　Orden　was　also　pompous；　given　to　vain　display。　So　double　that　number。
　The　warriors　of　Mystarria　were　fierce。　Their　bowmen　trained　from　youth　to　fire　from　horseback。　The　prowess　of　their　knights　with　their　long…handled　horseman's　axes　and　warhammers　was　legendary。
　Perhaps　the　legend　of　Mystarria's　warriors　would　keep　Raj　Ahten　at　bay；　so　that　he　would　not　dare　leave　the　castle　again。　Or　perhaps　Raj　Ahten　feared　the　Earth　King　that　his　pyromancers　warned　of。
　Iome　watched　for　a　long　moment　from　the　Dedicates'　Tower。　No　one　else　returned　to　the　castlenot　one　black…maned　noman。
　Defiantly　now；　in　the　wooded　hills　to　the　east　and　south　and　west；　battle　horns　blared　in　a　dozen　directions；　sounding　charges；　calling　new　formations。
　Orden's　knights　still　fighting　nomen　in　the　woods。　It　would　be　a　long；　grueling　day　for　those　warriors。
　Down　at　the　city　gate；　Raj　Ahten　turned　in　his　saddle　to　look　back　over　the　fields　one　last　time；　as　if　wondering　if　he　should　ride　once　more；　then　he　entered　the　city；　and　his　men　closed　the　ruined　drawbridge。
　Life　went　on。　From　the　tower；　Iome　could　see　much　of　the　city。　Down　by　the　Soldiers'　Keep；　women　and　children　hunted　for　eggs　left　by　the　hens。　The　miller　was　grinding　wheat　by　the　river。　The　fragrance　of　cooking　fires　mingled　with　the　smoke　and　ash　of　war。　Iome's　own　stomach　felt　tight。　When　Iome　judged　that　she　had　watched　from　the　wall　long　enough；　she　went　down　to　the　bailey　in　the　Dedicates'　Keep；　her　Days　following。　Her　mother's　Days　stood　on　the　tower；　kept　watching　the　fields。
　Iome's　father　sat　in　a　shaft　of　sunlight；　playing　with　a　pup　that　snarled　and　chewed　at　his　hand。　Her　father　had　soiled　his　britches　while　Iome　st