srdonaldson.thepowerthatpreserves-第50部分

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　could　be　blamed　for　being　inadequate　in　the　face　of　such　unanswerable　malevolence。　Destruction　was　easier　than　preservation；　and　when　destruction　had　risen　high　enough；　mere　men　and　women　could　not　be　condemned　if　they　failed　to　throw　back　the　tide。　Therefore　he　was　able　to　resist　his　own　capacity　for　desecration。　His　eyes　burned　like　yellow　fury　at　the　creeping　attack；　but　he　was　searching　for　defenses。
　　　　The　aspect　of　the　assault　which　most　daunted　him　was　its　unwavering　ferocity。　He　could　see　that　the　ur…viles　maintained　their　part　of　the　power　by　rotating　their　positions；　allowing　each　wedge　and　loremaster　to　rest　in　turn。　And　he　knew　from　experience　that　Lord　Foul's　strength…his　own　prodigious　might　making　use　of　the　Illearth　Stone…was　able　to　drive　armies　mad；　push　them　to　greater　savagery　than　their　flesh　could　bear。　But　Satansfist　was　only　one　Giant；　one　body　of　mortal　thew　and　bone　and　blood。　Even　a　Giant…Raver　should　not　have　been　able　to　sustain　such　an　extravagant　exertion　for　so　long。
　　　　In　addition；　while　samadhi　concentrated　on　his　attack；　he　might　reasonably　have　been　expected　to　lose　some　of　his　control　over　his　army。　Yet　the　whole　horde；　legion　after　legion；　remained　poised　around　Revel…stone　。　Each　creature　in　its　own　way　bent　the　lust　of　its　will　at　the　Keep。　And　the　emerald　expenditure　of　samadhi's　strength　never　blinked。　Clearly；　Lord　Foul　supported　his　army　and　its　mander　with　might　so　immense　that　it　surpassed　all　Mhoram's　previous　conceptions　of　power。
　　　　He　could　see　no　hope　for　Revelstone　anywhere　except　in　the　cost　of　that　unwavering　exertion。　The　defenders　would　have　to　hope　and　pray　that　Satansfist's　aegis　broke　before　they　did。　If　they　could　not　contrive　to　endure　the　Raver's　attack；　they　were　doomed。
　　　　When　Mhoram　returned　to　the　hollow　stone　halls　in　the　first；　gray；　dim　ridicule　of　dawn；　he　was　ready　to　strive　for　that　endurance。
　　　　The　hushed；　tight　wave　of　panic　that　struck　him　as　he　strode　down　the　main　passage　into　the　Keep　almost　broke　his　resolve。　He　could　feel　people　grinding　their　teeth　in　fear　behind　the　walls　on　either　side　of　him。　Shouts　reached　him　from　a　far　gallery；　two　parties　had　banded　together　to　defend　themselves　from　each　other。　Around　a　bend　he　surprised　a　hungry　group　that　was　attempting　to　raid　one　of　the　food　storerooms；　the　people　believed　that　the　cooks　in　the　refectories　were　preparing　poison。
　　　　His　anger　blazed　up　in　him；　and　he　surged　forward；　intending　to　strike　them　where　they　stood　in　their　folly。　But　before　he　reached　them；　they　fell　into　panic　and　fled　from　him　as　if　he　were　a　ghoul。　Their　retreat　left　two　of　Quaan's　warriors　standing　guard　in　front　of　the　storeroom　as　if　they　were　watching　each　other　rather　than　the　supplies。　Even　these　two　regarded　Mhoram　with　dread。
　　　　He　mastered　himself；　forced　a　smile　onto　his　crooked　lips；　said　a　few　encouraging　words　to　the　guards。　Then　he　hastened　away。
　　　　He　saw　now　that　Revelstone　was　at　the　flash　point　of　crisis。　To　help　it；　he　had　to　provide　the　city　with　something　more　than　moments　of　temporary　aid。　Grimly；　he　ignored　the　other　needs；　the　multitudes　of　fear；　which　cut　at　his　awareness。　As　he　strode　along　passages　and　down　stairways；　he　used　his　staff　to　summon　Hearthrall　Tohrm　and　all　the　Gravelingases。　He　put　his　full　authority　into　the　mand；　so　that　as　many　rhadhamaerl　as　possible　might　resist　their　panic　and　answer。
　　　　When　he　reached　the　bright　floor　of　the　courtyard　around　which　the　Lords'　chambers　were　situated；　he　felt　a　brief　surge　of　relief　to　see　that　Tohrm　and　a　dozen　Gravelingases　were　already　there；　and　more　were　on　their　way。　Soon　a　score　of　the　rhadhamaerl…nearly　all　the　Keep's　masters　of　stone…lore…stood　on　the　shining　rock；　waiting　to　hear　him。
　　　　For　a　moment；　the　High　Lord　gazed　at　the　men；　wincing　inwardly　at　their　misery。　They　were　Gravelingases　of　the　rhadhamaerl；　and　were　being　hurt　through　the　very　stone　around　them。　Then　he　nodded　sharply　to　himself。　This　was　the　right　place　for　him　to　begin；　if　he　could　convince　these　men　that　they　were　able　to　resist　Satansfist's　ill；　they　would　be　able　to　do　much　for　the　rest　of　the　city。
　　　　With　an　effort　that　strained　the　muscles　of　his　face；　he　smiled　for　them。　Tohrm　answered　with　an　awkward　grin　which　quickly　fell　into　apprehension　again。
　　　　〃Gravelingases；〃　Mhoram　began　roughly；　〃we　have　spent　too　long　each　of　us　alone　enduring　this　ill　in　small　ways。　We　must　put　our　strength　together　to　form　a　large　defense。〃
　　　　〃We　have　obeyed　your　orders；〃　one　man　muttered　sullenly。
　　　　〃That　is　true；〃　Mhoram　returned。　〃Thus　far　we　have　all　given　our　strength　to　encourage　the　people　of　Revelstone。　You　have　kept　your　graveling　fires　bright；　as　I　manded。　But　wisdom　does　not　always　e　swiftly。　Now　I　see　with　other　eyes。　I　have　listened　more　closely　to　the　voice　of　the　Keep。　I　have　felt　the　rock　itself　cry　out　against　this　evil。　And　I　say　now　that　we　must　resist　in　other　ways　if　Revelstone　is　to　endure。
　　　　〃We　have　mistaken　our　purpose。　The　Land　does　not　live　for　us…we　live　for　the　Land。　Gravelingases；　you　must　turn　your　lore　to　the　defense　of　the　stone。　Here；　in　this　place〃…he　touched　the　radiant　floor　with　the　heel　of　his　staff…〃slumbers　power　that　perhaps　only　a　rhadhamaerl　may　prehend。　Make　use　of　it。　Make　use　of　any　possible　lore…do　here　together　whatever　must　be　done。　But　find　some　means　to　seal　the　heart…rock　of　Revelstone　against　this　blight。　The　people　can　provide　for　themselves　if　Revelstone　remains　brave。〃
　　　　As　he　spoke；　he　realized　that　he　should　have　understood　these　things　all　along。　But　the　fear　had　numbed　him；　just　as　it　had　icebound　the　Gravelingases。　And　like　him　they　now　began　to　prehend。　They　shook　themselves；　struck　their　hands　together；　looked　around　them　with　preparations　rather　than　dread　in　their　eyes。　Tohrm's　lips　twitched　with　their　familiar　grin。
　　　　Without　hesitation；　High　Lord　Mhoram　left　the　Gravelingases　alone　to　do　their　work。　As　he　walked　along　the　tunnel　away　from　the　courtyard；　he　felt　like　a　man　who　had　discovered　a　new　magic。
　　　　He　directed　his　steps　toward　one　of　the　main　refectories；　whose　chief　cook　he　knew　to　be　a　feisty；　food…loving　man　not　prone　to　either　awe　or　fear；　and　as　he　moved；　he　sent　out　more　summonses；　this　time　calling　his　fellow　Lords　and　Hearthrall　Borillar's　Hirebrands。　Amatin　and　Trevor　answered　tensely；　and　Borillar　sent　a　half…timid　sign　through　the　walls。　But　a　long　moment　passed　before　Loerya　answered；　and　when　her　signal　came　it　was　torpid；　as　if　she　were　dazed　with　dismay。　Mhoram　hoped　that　the　rhadhamaerl　could　make　themselves　felt　soon；　so　that　people　like　Loerya　might　not　altogether　lose　heart；　and　he　climbed　up　through　the　levels　of　the　Keep　toward　the　refectory　as　if　he　were　surging　through　viscous　dread。
　　　　But　as　he　neared　the　kitchen；　he　saw　a　familiar　figure　dodge　away　into　a　side　passage；　obviously　trying　to　avoid　him。　He　swung　around　the　corner　after　the　man；　and　came　face　to　face　with　Trell　Atiaran…mate。
　　　　The　big　man　looked　feverish。　His　graying　beard　seemed　to　bristle　hotly；　his　sunken　cheeks　were　flushed；　and　his　dull；　hectic　eyes　slid　away　from　Mhoram's　gaze　in　all　directions；　as　if　he　could　not　control　their　wandering。　He　stood　under　Mhoram's　scrutiny　as　if　he　might　break　and　run　at　any　moment。
　　　　〃Trell　Gravelingas；〃　Mhoram　said　carefully；　〃the　other　rhadhamaerl　are　at　work　against　this　ill。　They　need　your　strength。〃
　　　　Trell's　gaze　flicked　once　across　Mhoram's　face　like　a　lash　of　anger。　〃You　wish　to　preserve　Revelstone　so　that　it　will　be　intact　for　the　Despiser's　use。''　He　filled　the　word　intact　with　so　much　bitterness　that　it　sounded　like　a　curse。
　　　　At　the　accusation；　Mhoram's　lips　tightened。　〃I　wish　to　preserve　the　Keep　for　its　own　sake。〃
　　　　The　roaming　of　Trell's　eyes　had　an　insatiable　cast；　as　if　they　were　afraid　of　going　blind。　〃I　do　not　work　well　with　others；''　he　said　dimly　after　a　moment。　Then；　without　transition；　he　became　urgent。　〃High　Lord；　tell　me　your　secret。〃
　　　　Mhoram　was　taken　aback。　〃My　secret？〃
　　　　〃It　is　a　secret　of　power。　I　must　have　power。〃
　　　　〃For　what　purpose？〃
　　　　At　first；　Trell　squirmed　under　the　question。　But　then　his　gaze　hit　Mhoram　again。　〃Do　you　wish　Revelstone　intact？〃　Again；　in　tact　spat　like　gall　past　his　lips。　He　turned　sharply　and　strode　away。
　　　　For　an　instant；　Mhoram　felt　a　cold　hand　of　foreboding　on　the　back　of　his　neck；　and　he　watched　Trell　go　as　if　the　big　Gravelingas　trailed　plumes　of　calamity。　But　before　he　could　grasp　the　perception；　Revelstone's　ambience　of　dread　clouded　it；　obscured　it。　He　did　not　dare　give　Trell　his　secret　knowledge。　Even　a　Gravelingas　might　be　capable　of　invoking　the　Ritual　of　Desecration。
　　　　With　an　effort；　he　remembered　his　purpose；　and　started　again　toward　the　refectory。
　　　　Because　he　had　been　delayed；　all　the　people　he　had　summoned　were　waiting　for　him。　They　stood　ineffectively　among　the　forlorn　tables　in　the　great；　empty　hall；　and　watched　his　approach　with　trepidation；　as　if　he　were　a　paradoxically　fatal　hope；　a　saving　doom。　〃High　Lord；〃　the　chief　cook　began　at　once；　quelling　his　fear　with　anger；　〃I　cannot　control　these　useless　sheep　disguised　as　cooks。　Half　have　deserted　me；　and　the　rest　will　not　work。　They　swing　knives　and　refuse