df.therunelords-第99部分

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imself　watched。
　Gaborn　whispered；　〃I　reject　you；　Raj　Ahten。　I　will　destroy　you。〃　Gaborn　raised　a　fist　in　the　sign　of　challenge。　But　if　the　men　on　the　far　hill　made　any　gestures　of　their　own；　he　could　not　see。　They　merely　turned　their　mounts　and　galloped　over　the　crest　of　the　hill。
　Even　with　an　army；　Gaborn　realized；　I　couldn't　catch　Raj　Ahten　now。
　Yet　in　his　heart；　Gaborn　felt　some　relief。　He　loved　this　land；　as　his　father　had。　They　had　wanted　nothing　more　than　to　drive　Raj　Ahten　from　it；　keep　it　beautiful　and　free。　For　a　time；　perhaps；　they　had　succeeded。
　But　at　what　price？
　Gaborn　glanced　down　at　his　feet。　The　snow　had　fallen　after　Raj　Ahten's　descent。　Yet　the　scent　of　both　Gaborn's　father　and　the　Wolf　Lord　lingered　here。　The　metallic　tang　of　blood。
　So；　Gaborn　surmised；　Raj　Ahten　had　e　here；　had　seen　the　clouds　of　Gaborn's　passage；　the　distant　herds　of　cattle　and　soldiers　mingled　together；　had　fallen　for　the　ruse。
　That　gave　Gaborn　some　fort。　Raj　Ahten　could　be　fooled；　could　be　beaten。
　Gaborn　circled　the　tower；　tried　to　see　down　into　the　woods。　He　imagined　his　father　and　Raj　Ahten　struggling　on　the　tower；　until　at　last；　perhaps；　his　father　was　thrown　over。
　He　looked　down；　saw　what　he　dreaded：　at　the　base　of　the　observatory；　among　the　rocks；　a　hand　thrust　up；　dead　fingers　clutching　a　palm　full　of　snow。
　Gaborn　raced　down　the　winding　stairs；　found　his　father；　and　pulled　at　the　corpse；　shaking　it　to　clear　the　snow　off。
　What　he　saw　broke　his　heart。　For　on　his　father's　frozen　face　was　a　broad　smile。　Perhaps　in　death；　some　fleeting　memory　had　made　him　smile。　Or　perhaps　it　was　but　a　grimace　of　pain。　Yet　Gaborn　imagined　that　his　father　smiled　at　him；　as　if　to　congratulate　him　for　his　victory。
　　
　Chapter　57
　TODAY　I　AM　DEATH
　　
　Gaborn　had　already　ridden　ahead　when　Iome's　glamour　returned。　Iome　had　no　idea　how　Raj　Ahten's　vector　had　died；　felt　little　relief　at　the　woman's　passing。　Like　Iome；　the　woman　had　been　a　mere　tool　in　Raj　Ahten's　hand；　one　that　was　poorly　used。
　Yet　Iome's　beauty　returned。　She　felt　it　as　an　easing　of　her　heart；　a　return　of　her　confidence。　Like　a　flower　blossoming。
　Yet　it　was　not　the　unnatural　beauty　she'd　had　since　birth；　not　the　borrowed　glamour。　The　skin　on　her　hands　softened　and　lost　their　wrinkles。　The　blush　of　youth　returned　to　her　cheeks。　For　once　in　her　life；　for　the　first　time；　Iome　was　simply　herself；　without　benefit　of　endowments。
　It　was　enough。　She　wished　that　Gaborn　could　have　been　here　to　see；　but　he　had　ridden　ahead。
　Though　messengers　from　Longmont　had　told　Iome　what　to　expect　when　she　reached　the　castle；　had　said　that　Raj　Ahten　had　destroyed　it　with　a　shout；　nothing　they　said　could　have　prepared　her　for　the　ruin。
　She　rode　at　the　head　of　ten　thousand　people　from　out　of　Groverman　and　the　villages　round　about。　Many　of　the　women　had　already　turned　back；　heading　for　their　own　hearths；　their　own　homes。　Their　work　here　was　done。
　But　others　followed　Iome；　particularly　people　who'd　lived　in　Longmont；　who　had　e　to　see　what　was　left　of　their　homes。
　As　they　neared　the　ruined　castle；　saw　the　empty　fields　with　wolves　slinking　about　the　hedgerows；　many　women　and　children　began　crying　for　what　they'd　lost。
　They'd　deserted　their　homes　three　days　ago；　but　a　few　days　of　huddling　under　ragged　shelters　at　Groverman　had　shown　them　just　how　difficult　it　would　be　to　make　do　once　the　snows　fell。
　Certainly；　most　of　them　hoped　to　e　home；　to　rebuild。　But　in　hard　times；　with　war　approaching；　Iome's　people　could　not　rebuild　without　some　nearby　fortification。
　The　castle　was　nearly　ruined。　Huge　blocks　of　stone　that　had　lain　in　place　for　twelve　centuries　now　lay　cracked　and　shattered。
　Almost　subconsciously；　Iome　began　calculating　what　it　would　take　to　repair　the　fortress：　five　hundred　stonemasons　out　of　Eyremoth；　for　they　were　the　best。　Carters　to　drag　the　stones；　Frowth　giants　hired　out　of　Lonnock　to　place　them。　Men　to　dig　moats。　Lumberjacks　to　cut　trees。　Cooks　and　ironsmiths；　with　mortar；　chisels；　saws；　awls；　axes；　and。。。the　list　went　on　and　on。
　But　to　what　purpose？　If　Raj　Ahten　could　simply　shatter　the　castle　with　a　shout？
　She　looked　up　on　the　hill；　saw　Gaborn　kneeling　in　a　patch　of　snow；　in　the　field。　Gaborn　had　laid　his　father's　body　out　on　the　hill　above　the　castle；　beneath　a　great　oak　tree。　A　huge　limb　lay　near　them。
　Gaborn　had　collected　dozens　of　spears；　and　he　ringed　these　about　his　father's　corpse；　creating　a　fence　of　sorts；　to　keep　out　the　wolves。
　In　the　tree　above　his　father's　corpse；　he　had　hung　his　father's　golden　shield。　He　took　his　father's　helm；　laid　it　in　the　snow　at　his　father's　feeta　sign　that　his　father　had　fallen　in　battle。
　She　turned　her　horse；　went　to　him；　leading　her　father's　stallion。　Behind　King　Sylvarresta　followed　the　three　Days：　hers；　her　father's；　and　Gaborn's。　King　Sylvarresta　had　verged　on　falling　dead　asleep　in　his　saddle　a　few　minutes　before；　but　now　stared　about；　grinning　broadly　at　the　snow　through　bleary　eyes；　a　child　filled　with　delight。
　Gaborn　looked　up　at　Iome　as　she　approached；　his　face　looked　bleak；　desolate。　Iome　knew　then　that　she　would　find　no　words　to　fort　him。　She　had　nothing　to　offer　him。　In　the　past　few　days；　she'd　lost　nearly　everythingher　home；　her　parents；　her　beauty。。。and　things　less　tangible。
　How　will　I　ever　sleep　again？　she　wondered。　In　her　mind；　the　castle　had　always　been　the　supreme　icon　of　security。　In　a　world　fraught　with　danger；　it　had　always　been　a　safe　haven。
　No　more。
　She　felt　now　that　she'd　lost　her　childhood；　her　innocence。　Her　peace　of　mind　was　torn　from　her。
　Not　just　because　her　mother　lay　dead　and　one　of　her　castles　lay　in　ruins。　As　she　rode　that　morning；　she　considered　what　had　happened。　Yesterday；　she'd　feared　that　Borenson　would　sneak　into　Castle　Sylvarresta；　kill　her　Dedicates。　She　imagined　that　secretly　she'd　known　what　he　would　do；　though　she　hated　it。
　By　not　challenging　him；　not　confronting　him；　Iome　had　agreed　to　it。　The　horror　of　it　had　all　been　creeping　up　on　her　since　noon　yesterday。　Now　she　found　herself　defenseless。　She　hadn't　slept　for　two　nights。　She'd　felt　dizzy　for　hours；　had　feared　she　would　topple　from　her　horse。
　Now　it　seemed　as　if　a　great　invisible　beast；　lurking　beneath　her　consciousness；　suddenly　sprang　and　seized　her。
　Iome　had　meant　to　say　some　word　of　fort　to　Gaborn；　but　suddenly　found　icy　tears　coursing　down　her　cold　cheeks。　She　tried　to　wipe　them；　began　shuddering　quietly。
　Gaborn　had　prepared　his　father's　body　well。　The　King's　hair　was　bed；　his　face　was　pale　in　death。　The　glamour　he'd　worn　had　died　with　him；　so　that　the　man　she　saw　was　not　the　King　Orden　who　had　seemed　so　regal；　so　powerful；　during　life。
　He　looked　like　some　aging　statesman；　with　a　broad　face；　skin　somewhat　weather…beaten。　He　smiled　enigmatically。　He　was　dressed　in　his　armor；　and　lay　on　a　plank。　His　richly　embroidered　cape　of　shimmering　samite　covered　him　like　a　robe。
　In　his　hands；　he　clasped　the　bud　of　a　single　blue　rose；　perhaps　taken　from　the　Duke's　garden。
　Gaborn　turned　to　look　up　at　Iome；　saw　the　expression　on　her　face；　then　stood　slowly；　as　if　the　effort　pained　him。　He　walked　to　her；　grabbed　her　shoulders　as　she　slid　from　her　horse；　and　held　her　close。
　She　thought　he　would　kiss　her；　tell　her　not　to　weep。
　Instead　his　voice　sounded　hollow　and　dead　as　he　whispered　fiercely；　〃Grieve　for　us。　Grieve。〃
　Borenson　thundered　into　Longmont　in　a　red　fury。　From　the　moment　he　had　crested　a　ridge　five　miles　back　and　seen　the　ruined　towers；　the　crowd　milling　on　the　downs　outside　the　castle；　he'd　known　the　news　would　be　bad。　Among　the　crowd；　many　colors　flew；　but　none　for　Raj　Ahten。
　He　wished　Raj　Ahten　were　dead；　wanted　to　strike　against　him　with　a　rage　so　burning　that　Borenson　had　never　felt　its　like。
　So　he　was　still　in　a　frustrated　rage　when　he　galloped　down　the　north　road　into　Longmont　and　met　the　ragged　moners　milling　about　by　the　thousands。　He　looked　among　the　crowd　for　the　colors　of　Orden；　saw　them　nowhere。
　He　rode　up　to　a　pair　of　teens　who　scrambled　among　the　snow　outside　the　castle；　robbing　the　corpse　of　one　of　Raj　Ahten's　soldiers。　One　young　man　was　perhaps　fourteen；　another　eighteen。　At　first　he　thought　the　vermin　were　stealing　money　pouches　or　rings；　and　he'd　have　belittled　them　for　doing　so。　Then　he　recognized　that　one　lad　was　wrestling　the　armor　from　the　corpse；　while　the　other　helped　lift　the　dead　weight。
　Good。　They　sought　armor　and　weapons　that　they　could　never　otherwise　purchase。
　〃Where　is　King　Orden？〃　Borenson　asked；　trying　to　keep　the　emotion　from　his　voice。
　〃Dead；　like　all　them　buggers　in　the　castle；〃　the　youngest　lad　answered。　He　had　his　back　to　Borenson；　hadn't　seen　to　whom　he　was　speaking。
　A　sound　escaped　Borenson's　throat；　something　like　a　growl　or　a　snort。　〃Everyone？〃
　Pain　must　have　sounded　in　his　voice；　for　the　lad　turned　and　looked　up；　eyes　widening　in　fear。　He　dropped　the　body　and　backed　away；　raising　a　hand　in　salute。　〃Yesyes；　sir；〃　his　older　friend　said　formally。　〃Only　one　man　lived　to　tell　the　tale。　Everyone　else　is　dead。〃
　〃A　man　survived？〃　Borenson　asked　distantly；　though　he　wanted　to　cry　out；　call　Myrrima's　name　and　see　if　she　would　answer。　Myrrima　had　been　in　this　castle。
　〃Yes；　sir；〃　the　older　lad　said。　He　staggered　backward；　afraid　Borenson　would　strike。　〃Youyour　men　fought　bravely。　King　Orden　made　a　serpent；　and　fought　the　Wolf　Lord　man…to…man。　Theywe　won't　forget　such　sacrifice。〃
　〃Whose　sacrifice？〃　Borenson　asked。　〃My　king's；　or　the　buggers'？〃
　The　young　men　turned　and　ran　as　if　Borenson　would　strike　them　both　down；　and　he　very　nearly　did；　but　he　felt　little　anger　toward　them。
　Borenson　scanned　the　downs　wildly；　as　if　Myrrima　might　stand　on　the　brow　of　a　hill　waving　to　him；　or　as　if　he　might　see　one　of　Raj　Ahten's　scouts　crest　a　ridge。　Instead；　as　he　looked　up；　he　spotted　Gaborn　beneath　an　oak。
　The　Prince　had　laid　out　King　Orden's　body；　ringed　it　with　spears　from　his　fallen　guards；　as　was　the　custom　in　Mystarria。　He　just　stood　there；　over　his　dead　father；　hugging　Iome。　The　Princess　had　her　back　to　Borenson；　and　wore　a　hood；　but　there　could　be　no　mistaking　the　curves　of　her　body。　A　knot　of　three　Days　all　huddled　a　few　yards　off　to　the　side；　watching　the　scene　with　studied　patience。
　The　idi