df.therunelords-第96部分

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　Then　he　raced　through　the　buttery　of　the　Duke's　kitchens；　out　the　kitchen　doors；　and　to　the　green　before　the　great　hall。
　Hundreds　of　Raj　Ahten's　Invincibles　were　in　the　green；　battling　the　defenders　of　Longmont。　War　dogs　raced　among　them；　huge　mottled　gray　horrors　in　red　leather　masks。　Along　the　west　wall　he　saw　a　fiery　salamander；　and　along　all　the　walls　were　men；　burning　or　fallen　in　battle。
　A　few　of　Orden's　archers　along　the　north　castle　walls　were　firing　into　the　green；　for　his　men　were　faring　so　poorly　that　any　arrow　would　likely　strike　Raj　Ahten's　men　without　a　chance　of　hitting　a　defender。
　But　even　the　fastest　war　dog　or　Invincible　in　the　group　could　hardly　move　at　an　eighth　of　Shostag's　speed。　They　seemed　little　more　than　statues。　Here　in　the　green；　Shostag　could　see　no　sign　of　Raj　Ahten。
　Shostag　took　his　great　iron　axe　and　began　moving　through　the　crowd；　swinging　in　plex　arcs；　lopping　the　heads　off　of　Raj　Ahten's　Invincibles　in　almost　a　casual　manner；　cleaving　dogs　in　two；　dodging　arrows　and　whatnot。
　He'd　hardly　murdered　two　hundred　of　the　bastards　when　he　spotted　a　swift　movement　at　the　gates。　Raj　Ahten　himself；　rushing　toward　him。
　The　Wolf　Lord　wore　no　helm；　but　bore　a　battle…axe　in　one　hand　and　a　scimitar　in　the　other。　Or　at　least　Shostag　imagined　it　was　the　Wolf　Lord。　His　face　shone　like　the　sun；　but　he　had　a　hideously　deformed　shoulder。　All　the　easier　to　fight　him；　Shostag　imagined。
　Raj　Ahten　took　one　look　at　Shostag；　smiled。　〃So；　King　Orden　is　dead；　and　you　think　you　are　next；　do　you？〃
　Shostag　jutted　his　chin；　and　spun　his　huge　axe　with　a　flourish。　〃You　know；　that　arm　would　look　better　if　I　hacked　off　the　rest　of　it　for　you。〃
　〃e　give　it　a　try；〃　Raj　Ahten　urged。　The　Wolf　Lord　was　studying　the　swath　of　corpses；　some　of　them　still　in　the　process　of　falling；　strewn　in　a　path　from　the　kitchens。
　With　a　start；　Raj　Ahten　dashed　left；　darted　up　the　narrow　road　to　some　lord's　manor；　away　from　Shostag。　As　he　sped　along　the　street；　he　slashed　the　throat　of　any　defender　within　reach；　shoved　his　own　men　from　his　path。
　Shostag　leapt　after　him。　He　saw　Raj　Ahten's　plan。
　Shostag　was　at　the　pinnacle　of　twenty　men；　each　vectoring　metabolism　to　him。　And　several　of　those　men　had　taken　endowments　of　metabolism　before；　so　that　Shostag　now　ran　with　the　speed　of　forty。　If　Raj　Ahten　could　find　a　man　in　the　serpent　and　slaughter　him；　he'd　break　the　line　of　Shostag's　power；　〃slice　the　serpent〃　in　two。
　By　doing　so；　he'd　give　two　separate　warriors　high　metabolism；　create　two　serpents'　heads；　neither　able　to　strike　as　quickly　as　Shostag　could　now。　Raj　Ahten　was　hunting　for　Dedicates。
　If　Shostag　was　lucky；　Raj　Ahten　would　find　a　man　near　the　tail　of　the　serpent。　Killing　the　tail　would　still　leave　Shostag　with　high　metabolism；　leave　him　with　the　speed　of　something　close　to　forty。
　But　Shostag　preferred　not　to　rely　on　luck。
　Raj　Ahten　had　glanced　at　the　corpses　strewn　across　the　yard；　seen　that　Shostag　came　from　the　kitchens。　Now　Raj　Ahten　suspected　that　the　Dedicates　wouldn't　be　hiding　in　the　Dedicates'　Keep；　hut　were　secreted　around　the　castle。　Raj　Ahten　ran　to　the　nearest　unsecured　building。
　Shostag　followed；　rounded　a　corner　too　fast。　His　center　of　gravity　kept　him　traveling　so　that　he　bowled　into　half　a　dozen　of　the　castle's　defenders。　He　scraped　his　leg　on　some　man's　pike。　Regained　his　feet。　Ran。
　The　air　felt　heavy；　hard　to　breathe。　Shostag　did　not　have　the　endowments　of　brawn　necessary　to　easily　draw　breath　with　such　high　metabolism。　His　head　spun；　he　felt　dizzy。
　Raj　Ahten　turned　at　a　doorway　leading　to　the　lord's　apartments；　raced　into　the　manor。　Shostag　followed。
　Shostag　was　a　Wolf　Lord；　with　endowments　of　scent　from　three　dogs。　He　could　smell　better　than　most　men　ever　dreamed；　and　men　are　such　smelly　brutes。　Thus　he　wasn't　surprised　to　enter　the　room　and　see　Raj　Ahten　tearing　at　the　door　of　a　cedar　wardrobe。　Like　Shostag；　Raj　Ahten　didn't　need　to　see　a　man　to　know　that　one　was　hiding　in　the　room。
　Shostag　rushed　Raj　Ahten；　axe　whirling。
　Raj　Ahten　spun；　blocked　Shostag's　blow　with　his　own　battle…axe；　sparks　flew　from　the　weapons。　The　iron　handle　of　Raj　Ahten's　smaller　axe　bent。　Shostag　marveled　that　his　blow　didn't　shatter　Raj　Ahten's　arm。　With　deadly　grace　Raj　Ahten　swung　his　icy　scimitar　beneath　Shostag's　guard；　pierced　Shostag's　belly　with　a　blow　of　cold　horror。
　But　Shostag　was　no　moner；　dismayed　at　the　sight　of　his　own　guts。　He　had　more　stamina　than　most　lords；　the　stamina　of　wolves　who　hunted　the　winter　woods　for　bear　and　boar。
　The　little　prickling　wound　only　angered　him；　so　that　Shostag　whirled　his　mighty　axe　with　both　hands；　spun　and　delivered　a　blow　that　should　have　cleaved　the　Wolf　Lord　in　two。
　But　Raj　Ahten　threw　himself　back；　dropping　his　bent　axe；　dodging　Shostag's　blow；　smashing　the　finely　wrought　cedar　door　of　the　wardrobe；　falling　into　it　himself。
　A　Dedicate　lay　beneath　Raj　Ahten；　half　buried　by　splintered　cedar；　crouching　among　some　maids'　dresses；　a　warhammer　in　one　hand；　shield　in　another。　Sir　Owlsforth；　a　warrior　five　men　down　the　line　of　defenders　from　Shostag　in　the　serpent。
　If　Shostag　didn't　kill　Raj　Ahten　now；　he'd　never　get　another　chance。　He　drew　back　his　great　axe；　preparing　to　cleave　the　Wolf　Lord　in　two。
　At　that　moment；　Raj　Ahten　plunged　two　fingers　through　the　eye　slits　of　Owlsforth's　helm；　into　his　brain。
　Shostag　felt　a　piercing　nausea；　and　watched　in　horror　as　Raj　Ahten　leaned　away　from　the　falling　axe　and　suddenly　became　an　indistinct　blur；　leaping　toward　him。
　Shostag　knew　nothing　more。
　　
　Chapter　55
　THE　CRY
　　
　Raj　Ahten　did　not　trouble　himself　with　finding　the　heads　of　the　serpent。　He　followed　his　keen　nose　through　buildings；　and　in　a　few　moments　found　several　more　men　hiding；　slaughtered　six　more　Dedicates。　As　he　did　so；　he　also　murdered　another　sixty　of　Longmot's　defenders。　He　half…hoped　to　find　Jureem　here。
　The　battle　was　winding　down。　King　Orden　was　dead；　most　of　the　defenders。　Seldom　had　Raj　Ahten　dealt　a　foe　such　a　fell　beating。　Never　had　he　personally　spilled　so　much　good　blood。
　Once；　he　came　upon　a　man　running　from　a　building　with　unmon　speeda　nobleman。　He　recognized　the　Earl　of　Dreis　by　the　gray　horse　and　four　arrows　on　his　shield；　more　than　by　any　finery。　Another　head　to　a　serpent。
　A　fine…looking　warrior；　the　Earl　was。　Spooky　gray　eyes；　tall　and　noble　in　every　mannerism。
　Ahten　slowed　enough　to　hamstring　the　fellow；　then　slashed　the　Earl's　throat　as　he　fell。
　By　now；　Raj　Ahten　had　the　battle　well　in　hand。　He　stood　on　the　rise　below　the　Dedicates'　Keep；　perhaps　fifty　paces　from　the　two　hundred　or　so　knights　who　kept　guard　there。
　He　stopped　for　a　moment　to　survey　the　battlefield。　Down　below；　his　men　had　taken　the　courtyard。　The　walls　were　almost　empty　of　defenders。
　Now　Raj　Ahten's　men　raced　along　the　wall…walks　to　the　east；　while　a　trio　of　salamanders　cleared　the　walls　to　the　west。　Everywhere　the　cries　of　dying　men　arose；　insubstantial　to　his　ears。　The　scents　of　blood　and　smoke　and　sulfurous　powders　carried　on　the　wind。
　Little　remained　for　him　to　do。
　He　raced　for　the　Dedicates'　Keep；　thinking　to　slaughter　the　two　hundred　warriors　who　stood　guard；　when　a　great　feeling　of　anxiousness　swept　over　him；　that　familiar　twist　of　the　stomach　that　acpanies　the　death　of　a　Dedicate。
　Eremon　Vottania　Solette　throttled　Salim　al　Daub。　It　takes　a　long　time　to　strangle　a　man；　particularly　if　he　has　endowments　of　stamina。　Eremon　found　the　job　immensely　difficult。　Sweat　began　to　bead　on　his　brow；　and　his　fingers　grew　wet；　making　his　fingers　slip。
　Salim　didn't　fight；　remained　unconscious。　Yet　he　turned　his　head　slowly；　unfortably；　tried　even　in　his　stupor　to　escape。　His　legs　began　to　kick　feebly；　rhythmically。　Salim's　lips　went　blue；　and　his　tongue　bulged。　His　eyes　opened　in　blind　panic。
　The　guard　didn't　see；　for　the　man　stood　gazing　out　the　rough　door　of　the　wagon　to　watch　the　storming　of　the　castle。　Among　the　stinking；　ill…kept　Dedicates；　the　silent　struggle　attracted　no　notice。　The　rhythmic　kick　of　Salim's　feet　seemed　but　a　background　noise；　the　shuffle　of　a　sleepy　Dedicate　as　he　sought　fort　among　the　moldy　hay。
　Nearby　a　deaf　Dedicate　watched　Eremon；　eyes　wide　in　fear。　This　was　no　knight　brought　to　embarrass　a　Northern　lord。　This　was　one　of　Raj　Ahten's　own　Dedicates；　a　fellow　who　vectored　hundreds　of　endowments　of　hearing　to　the　Wolf　Lord。　For　his　service；　he　was　treated　worse　than　a　dog。　The　Dedicate　had　reason　to　hate　his　lord；　had　reason　to　wish　him　dead。　Eremon　held　the　deaf　man's　eye　as　he　strangled　Salim；　silently　hoped　the　man　would　not　raise　a　cry。
　Salim　kicked　once；　hard；　made　a　pounding　noise　with　his　boot。
　At　the　wagon　door　the　guard　spun；　saw　Salim's　feet　kicking。　The　guard　lunged　forward；　sliced　Eremon's　arm　with　his　curved　knife；　hacking　it　off。
　Blood　spurted　from　Eremon's　arm；　just　below　the　elbow；　and　the　severed　stump　burned　like　fire。　But　his　hand；　the　hand　that　had　been　robbed　of　grace；　that　could　hardly　unclench　over　these　many　years；　clung　to　Salim's　throat　like　death　itself；　fingers　locked　on　the　big　eunuch's　esophagus。
　The　guard　snatched　at　it；　tried　to　pull　the　severed　hand　from　Salim's　throat。　Eremon　managed　to　kick　the　guard　behind　the　knee；　so　that　he　fell　back　among　the　Dedicates。
　In　that　moment；　Eremon　felt　a　great　easing　in　his　chest　as　grace　flowed　through　him；　felt　his　heart　and　muscles　unclench　pletely　for　the　first　time　in　many　years。　Salim　was　dead。
　Eremon　gasped　a　deep　breath；　tasted　in　one　last　gasp　the　sweet　air　of　freedom。　Then　the　guard　was　on　him。
　In　a　moment　of　vertigo；　the　world　slowed　profoundly　for　Raj　Ahten。　The　deep…toned　clickings　of　the　Earl　of　Dreis'　dying　shout　now　came　as　a　call　for　aid　to　his　ears；　and　Raj　Ahten　found　himself　sliding　on　his　feet　as　he　tried　to　stop　before　the　crowd　of　soldiers　who　guarded　the　Dedicates'　Keep。
　He　realized　he　had　only　his　normal　six　endowments　of　metabolism。　Some　of　these　guards　might　nearly　equal　him。
　He　shouted　a　battle　cry　of　such　incredible　volume　that　no　human　tongue　had　ever　matched　it。　He　had　begun　thinking　only　that　he　might　dishearten　a　few　warriors。
　But　as　he　shouted；　the　effect　astonished　even　him。
　The　men　began　to　drop　to　their　knees；　grasping　in　pain　at　their　helmets