df.therunelords-第59部分

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　It　displeased　Mendellas　Orden　to　have　to　burn　the　bridge。　He'd　stopped　here　often　in　his　journeys；　savoring　the　fine　ale　brewed　in　the　Dwindell　Inn；　which　sat　beside　the　bridge　on　a　promontory；　overlooking　the　river。
　But　by　the　time　Orden　reached　town；　rain　had　soaked　the　bridge。　Great　rolling　drops　pelted　his　troops；　dripped　between　the　cracks　of　the　four…inch　planks。　His　men　tried　to　light　a　fire　where　berry　vines　grew　thick　beneath　the　north　end　of　the　bridge。　But　the　banks　of　the　river　were　steep　and　the　road　sloped　so　that　water　draining　down　the　street　became　a　veritable　creek。
　Orden　had　supposed　a　couple　of　well…oiled　torches　would　do　the　job；　but　even　they　proved　to　be　of　little　use。
　Orden　was　cursing　his　fortune　when　a　couple　of　local　boys　pulled　the　innkeeper；　old　Stevedore　Hark；　out　of　the　inn。　Orden　had　been　blessed　by　this　man's　hospitality　many　times。
　〃Here；　here；　Your　Highness；　what　are　you　and　your　men　about？〃　the　innkeeper　said　in　a　belligerent　tone；　waddling　down　the　street。　Orden's　fifteen　hundred　troops　seemed　not　to　alarm　the　innkeeper　in　the　least。　He　was　a　heavy　man　in　baggy　pants；　an　apron　over　his　broad　belly。　His　fat　face　showed　red　beneath　his　graying　beard；　and　rain　streamed　over　his　cheeks。　〃I　fear　we　must　burn　your　bridge；〃　Orden　answered。　〃Raj　Ahten　will　e　down　the　highway　tonight。　I　can't　have　him　on　my　tail。　I'll　gladly　reimburse　the　town　for　the　inconvenience。〃
　〃Oh；　I　don't　think　you'll　burn　that　bridge　any　time　soon；〃　the　innkeeper　laughed。　〃Perhaps　you'd　better　e　in　and　have　a　drink。　I　can　get　you　and　some　of　your　captains　a　nice　stew；　if　you　don't　mind　a　thin　broth。〃
　〃Why　won't　it　burn？〃　King　Orden　asked。
　〃Magic；〃　the　innkeeper　said。　〃Lightning　struck　it　fifteen　years　back；　burned　it　to　the　ground。　So　when　we　built　it　back　again；　we　had　a　water　wizard　put　a　spell　on　it。　Fire　won't　hold　to　that　wood。〃
　Orden　stood　in　the　pouring　rain；　and　the　innkeeper's　words　took　the　heart　from　him。　If　he　had　had　his　own　water　wizard；　he　could　easily　have　countered　the　spell。　But　he　had　no　water　wizard　here。　The　way　the　rain　was　falling；　perhaps　the　bridge　could　not　be　burned　anyway。
　〃We'll　have　to　chop　it　through　then；〃　Orden　said。
　〃Here　now；〃　the　innkeeper　grumbled；　〃no　call　for　that。　If　you　want　the　bridge　down；　pull　it　down；　but　leave　the　planks　so　we　can　build　it　back　again；　after　tomorrow。　We　can　store　them　over　in　the　mill。〃
　Orden　considered　his　proposition。　Stevedore　Hark　was　more　than　the　innkeeper；　Orden　recalled。　He　was　also　the　mayor；　a　man　with　a　keen　eye　for　business。　The　bridge　was　made　of　huge　planks；　bored　and　doweled　together。　Three　stone　pillars　planted　in　River　Dwindell　held　the　bridge。　Pulling　the　bridge　down　piece　by　piece　would　take　a　bit　longer；　but　with　fifteen　hundred　men　to　perform　the　labor；　it　would　e　down　fast　enough。　The　Powers　knew　that　even　his　force　horses　needed　to　rest。
　There　was　also　a　matter　of　friendship。　Orden　could　not　easily　destroy　the　man's　bridge。　If　he　did；　on　the　next　trip　through　the　town；　he'd　find　that　the　ale　had　somehow　all　gone　to　vinegar。　〃I'd　thank　you　to　get　me　some　dinner；　then；　my　old　friend；〃　Orden　said；　〃while　we　hide　the　bridge　for　you。〃
　The　bargain　was　struck。
　While　the　rain　poured　and　his　men　worked；　Orden　went　into　the　Dwindell　Inn；　and　sat　brooding　before　a　huge　fire　in　the　hearth。
　He'd　been　promised　a　quick　dinner　of　undercooked　stew；　but　half　an　hour　later；　the　master　of　the　inn　himself　brought　out　some　bread　pudding　and　a　warmed　joint　of　porkfrom　one　of　the　great　boars　that　made　hunting　in　the　Dunnwood　famous。　The　meat　smelled　delicious；　sprinkled　with　pepper　and　rosemary；　marinated　in　dark　beer；　then　baked　on　a　bed　of　carrots；　wild　mushrooms；　and　hazelnuts。　It　tasted　as　fine　as　it　smelled。
　And　of　course；　it　was　strictly　illegal。　moners　were　not　allowed　to　hunt　the　King's　boars；　Stevedore　Hark　could　have　been　whipped　for　doing　so。
　The　meat　was　a　fine　and　fitting　gift。　Though　Hark　had　obviously　hoped　to　lift　Orden's　spirits；　his　kind　gesture　had　the　opposite　effect；　throwing　Orden　into　a　dire　melancholy　that　made　him　sit　beside　the　fire；　stroking　his　beard　with　his　fingers；　wondering　at　his　own　plans。
　How　many　times　had　he　eaten　at　this　inn　on　his　trips　to　visit　Sylvarresta？　How　often　had　he　feasted　on　the　bounty　of　these　woods？　How　often　had　he　thrilled　to　the　baying　of　the　hounds　as　they　chased　the　great　boars；　taken　joy　in　the　toss　of　the　javelin　as　he　rode　a　pig　down？
　The　innkeeper's　hospitality；　the　fineness　of　the　meal；　somehow　made　King　Orden　feel。。。desolate。
　Five　years　past；　while　Mendellas　Orden　hunted　here；　an　assassin　had　broken　into　his　keep；　had　slain　his　wife　in　her　bed；　with　a　newborn　babe。　It　had　been　only　six　months　since　two　daughters　died　in　a　previous　attack。　The　murder　of　King　Orden's　wife　and　babe　sparked　outrage。　Yet　the　killer　was　never　apprehended。　Trackers　followed　his　trail；　lost　the　assassin　in　the　mountains　south　of　Mystarria。　He　could　have　been　escaping　southeast　into　Inkarra；　or　he　could　have　headed　southwest　to　Indhopal。
　Orden　had　guessed　Indhopal　or　Muyyatin。　But　he　could　not　have　struck　out　blindly　at　his　neighbors；　without　proof。
　So　he'd　waited；　and　waited；　for　assassins　to　strike　again；　to　e　for　him　personally。
　They　never　did。
　Orden　had　lost　a　part　of　himself；　he　knew。　He'd　lost　his　wife；　the　one　love　of　his　life。　He'd　never　remarried；　planned　never　to　remarry。　If　one　cannot　replace　a　lost　hand　or　a　leg；　how　can　one　hope　to　replace　half　of　himself？
　For　years　now；　he'd　acutely　felt　the　pain。　With　so　many　endowments　of　wit；　he　could　perfectly　recall　her　tone　of　voice；　her　face。　In　his　dreams　Corette　yet　walked　and　spoke　with　him。　Often　when　he　woke　on　a　cold　winter's　morning；　he　felt　surprised　to　find　that　her　soft　flesh　was　not　cupping　him；　trying　to　drink　his　warmth；　the　way　she　had　when　still　alive。
　He　found　it　hard　to　describe　the　sense　of　loss　he　felt。　King　Orden　had　once　tried　to　express　it　to　himself。
　He　did　not　feel　that　he　had　lost　his　future；　that　his　life　was　at　an　end。
　His　son　was　his　future。　King　Orden　would　continue；　go　on　without　his　wife；　if　the　Powers　so　willed　it。
　Nor　did　he　feel　he　had　lost　his　past；　for　Orden　could　remember　perfectly　the　taste　of　Corette's　kisses　on　the　night　of　their　wedding；　the　way　she　cried　in　joy　when　she　first　suckled　Gaborn。
　No；　it　was　the　present　he　had　lost。　The　opportunity　to　be　with　his　wife；　to　love　her；　to　spend　each　waking　moment　in　her　pany。
　Yet　as　King　Orden　sat　in　the　Dwindell　Inn；　eating　roast　off　a　fine　china　platter；　he　became　keenly　aware　that　something　new　had　been　ripped　from　him。
　His　past　was　gone。　All　of　his　good　memories　would　soon　bee　unbearable。　King　Sylvarresta　was　not　dead　yet；　so　far　as　Orden　knew；　but　sometime　this　evening；　Borenson　would　try　to　carry　out　his　orders。　Orden　would　be　forced　to　kill　the　man　he　most　loved　and　admired。　It　was　a　foul　thing；　a　bitter　seasoning　to　a　fine　meal。
　Perhaps　Stevedore　Hark　understood　what　he　felt；　for　the　innkeeper　got　a　thin　stew　cooking　for　some　of　the　men；　then　came　to　sit　a　few　moments　at　Orden's　feet；　miserating。
　〃We　heard　the　news　last　night　from　Castle　Sylvarresta；〃　he　whispered。　〃Bad　news。　The　worst　of　my　life。〃
　〃Aye；　the　worst　in　several　lifetimes；〃　Orden　grunted；　looking　at　the　old　innkeeper。　Stevedore　had　gotten　a　few　more　white　hairs　in　his　sideburns　this　year。　Indeed；　his　hair　was　more　white　now　than　grizzled。
　It　was　said　that　each　year；　the　Time　Lords　would　ring　a　silver　bell；　and　at　the　ringing　of　the　bell；　all　who　heard　it　would　age　a　year。　For　those　whom　the　Time　Lords　disliked；　a　bell　might　be　rung　more　than　once；　while　those　whom　the　Time　Lords　favored　might　not　have　such　a　bell　rung　in　their　presence　at　all。
　The　Time　Lords　had　not　favored　Stevedore　Hark　this　year。　His　eyes　looked　puffy。　From　lack　of　sleep？　No；　the　man　would　not　have　slept　last　night；　after　such　tragic　news。
　〃Do　you　think　you　can　dislodge　the　monster？〃　Stevedore　asked。　〃He　has　you　outnumbered。〃
　〃I　hope　to　dislodge　him；〃　Mendellas　said。
　〃If　you　do；　then　you　will　be　our　king；〃　the　innkeeper　said　flatly。
　King　Orden　had　not　considered　the　possibility。　〃No；　your　royal　family　is　intact。　If　House　Sylvarresta　falls；　the　Countess　of　Arens　is　next　in　title。〃
　〃Not　likely。　People　won't　follow　her。　She's　married　in　Seward；　too　far　away　to　rule。　If　you　win　back　Heredon；　the　people　will　want　no　one　but　you　for　their　lord。〃
　Orden's　heart　skipped　at　the　thought。　He'd　always　loved　the　woods；　the　hills　of　Heredon。　He'd　loved　the　clean；　friendly　people；　the　sparkling　air。　〃I'll　drive　Raj　Ahten　out；〃　Orden　said。　He　knew　it　wouldn't　be　enough　to　drive　Raj　Ahten　from　this　land。　He'd　have　to　go　further。　A　Wolf　Lord　cannot　be　whipped　like　a　pup。　He　must　be　slaughtered；　like　a　mad　dog。
　In　his　mind's　eye；　King　Orden　saw　the　war　unfold　before　him；　realized　he'd　have　to　prepare　to　head　south；　to　strike　Deyazz　and　Muyyatin　and　Indhopal　e　spring；　from　there　sweep　south　into　Khuram　and　Dharmad　and　the　kingdoms　beyond。
　Until　all　Raj　Ahten's　Dedicates　lay　dead；　and　the　Wolf　Lord　himself　could　be　slain。
　If　he　won　this　war；　there　would　lands　to　plunder。　He　cared　nothing　for　most　of　the　Southern　kingdoms；　but　he　would　take　one　thing：　the　blood…metal　mines　of　Kartish；　south　of　Indhopal。
　King　Orden　changed　the　conversation；　talked　with　the　innkeeper　of　days　past；　of　hunts　with　Sylvarresta。　Orden　joked；　〃If　the　day　should　e　that　I'm　king　of　Heredon；　I　suppose　I'll　have　to　invite　you　on　my　next　hunt。〃
　〃Indeed；　I　fear　it　is　the　only　way　you　will　keep　me　from　poaching；　Your　Highness；〃　Stevedore　Hark　laughed；　then　slapped　the　King　on　the　back；　a　touch　so　familiar　that　no　one　in　Mystarria　would　have　dared　anything　similar。
　But　Orden　imagined　that　Sylvarresta　had　been　slapped　on　the　back　by　friends　many　times。　He　was　that　kind　of　man。　The　kind　who　did　not　have　to　be　cold　and　distant　to　be　kingly。
　〃It　is　agreed　then；　my　friend；〃　Orden　said。　〃You　will　e　on　my　next　hunt。〃　Orden　changed　the　subject。　〃Now；　tonight；　Raj　Ahten's　army　should　e　here　and　find　that　the　bridge　is　out。　I　ask　a　favor　of　you。　Remind　them　that　Boar's　Ford　is　shallow　enough　to　cross。〃
　〃Well；　that's　where　they'd　naturally　go；　isn't　it？〃　Hark　asked。
　〃They'r