srdonaldson.thepowerthatpreserves-第67部分

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ne　time；　and　before　long　he　had　collected　a　large　pile　of　dead　brush　and　bushes；　which　he　placed　in　the　shelter　of　a　hill　a　short　distance　from　the　Ford。　All　the　time；　he　kept　his　face　averted　from　Covenant。
　　　　When　he　was　satisfied　with　his　quantity　of　wood；　he　stooped　in　front　of　the　pile　with　his　hands　hidden　as　if　for　some　obscure　reason　he　did　not　want　Covenant　to　see　how　he　started　the　fire。　As　soon　as　flames　had　begun　to　spread　through　the　brush；　he　positioned　himself　on　the　far　side　of　the　fire　and　urged　Covenant　to　approach　its　warmth。
　　　　Covenant　acquiesced　gladly　enough。　His　robe　could　not　keep　the　cold　out　of　his　hands　and　feet；　he　could　hardly　refuse　a　fire。　And　he　could　hardly　refuse　Triock's　desire　to　discuss　his　decision。　His　debt　to　Triock　was　large…not　easily　borne。　He　sat　down　within　the　radiant　balm　of　the　fire　opposite　Triock　and　silently　watched　him　prepare　a　meal。
　　　　As　he　worked；　Triock　mumbled　to　himself　in　a　tone　that　made　Covenant　feel　oddly　unfortable。　His　movements　seemed　awkward；　as　if　he　were　trying　to　conceal　arcane　gestures　while　he　handled　the　food。　He　avoided　Covenant's　gaze；　but　whenever　Covenant　looked　away；　he　could　feel　Triock's　eyes　flick　furtively　over　him　and　flinch　away。　He　was　startled　when　Triock　said　abruptly；　〃So　you　have　given　up　hate。〃
　　　　〃Given　up…？〃　He　had　not　thought　of　the　matter　in　those　terms　before。　〃Maybe　I　have。　It　doesn't　seem　like　a　very　good　answer。　I　mean；　aside　from　the　fact　that　there's　no　room　for　it　in…in　the　law　of　leprosy。
　　　　Hate；　humiliation；　revenge…I　make　a　mistake　every　time　I　let　them　touch　me。　I　risk　my　life。　And　love；　too；　if　you　want　to　know　the　truth。　But　aside　from　that。　It　doesn't　seem　that　I　could　beat　Foul　that　way。　I'm　just　a　man。　I　can't　hate…forever…as　he　can。　And〃…he　forced　himself　to　articulate　a　new　perception…〃my　hate　isn't　pure。　It's　corrupt　because　part　of　me　always　hates　me　instead　of　him。　Always。〃
　　　　Triock　placed　a　stoneware　pot　of　stew　in　the　fire　to　cook　and　said　in　a　tone　of　eerie　conviction；　〃It　is　the　only　answer。　Look　about　you。　Health；　love；　duty…none　suffice　against　this　winter。　Only　those　who　hate　are　immortal。〃
　　　　〃Immortal？〃
　　　　〃Certainly。　Death　claims　all　else　in　the　end。　How　else　do　the　Despiser　and…and　his''…he　said　the　name　as　if　it　dismayed　him…〃Ravers　endure？　They　hate。〃　In　his　hoarse；　barking　tone；　the　word　took　on　a　wide　range　of　passion　and　violence；　as　if　indeed　it　were　the　one　word　of　truth　and　transcendence。
　　　　The　savor　of　the　stew　began　to　reach　Covenant。　He　found　that　he　was　hungry…and　that　his　inner　quiescence　covered　even　Triock's　queer　asseverations。　He　stretched　out　his　legs；　reclined　on　one　elbow。　〃Hate；〃　he　sighed　softly；　reducing　the　word　to　manageable　dimensions。　〃Is　that　it；　Triock？　I　think…I　think　I've　spent　this　whole　thing…dream；　delusion；　fact；　whatever　you　want　to　call　it…I've　spent　it　all　looking　for　a　good　answer　to　death。　Resistance；　rape…ridicule…love…hate？　Is　that　it？　Is　that　your　answer？〃
　　　　〃Do　not　mistake　me；〃　Triock　replied。　〃I　do　not　hate　death。〃
　　　　Covenant　gazed　into　the　dance　of　the　fire　for　a　moment　and　let　the　aroma　of　the　stew　remind　him　of　deep；　sure；　empty　peace。　Then　he　said　as　if　he　were　pleting　a　litany；　〃What　do　you　hate？〃
　　　　〃I　hate　life。〃
　　　　Brusquely；　Triock　spooned　stew　into　bowls。　When　he　handed　a　bowl　around　the　fire　to　Covenant；　his　hand　shook。　But　as　soon　as　he　had　returned　to　his　hooded　covert　beyond　the　flames；　he　snapped　angrily；　〃Do　you　think　I　am　unjustified？　You；　Unbeliever？〃
　　　　No。　No。　Covenant　could　not　lift　up　his　head　against　the　accusation　in　Triock's　voice。　Hate　me　as　much　as　you　need　to；　he　breathed　into　the　crackling　of　the　fire　and　the　steaming　stew。　I　don't　want　anyone　else　to　sacrifice　himself　for　me。　Without　looking　up；　he　began　to　eat。
　　　　The　taste　of　the　stew　was　not　unpleasant；　but　it　had　a　disconcerting　under…flavor　which　made　it　difficult　to　swallow。　Yet　once　a　mouthful　had　passed　his　throat；　he　found　it　warm　and　reassuring。　Slowly；　drowsiness　spread　outward　from　it。　After　a　few　moments；　he　was　vaguely　surprised　to　see　that　he　had　emptied　the　bowl。
　　　　He　put　it　aside　and　lay　down　on　his　back。　Now　the　fire　seemed　to　grow　higher　and　hotter；　so　that　he　only　caught　glimpses　of　Triock　watching　him　keenly　through　the　weaving　spring　and　crackle　of　the　flames。　He　was　beginning　to　rest　when　he　heard　Triock　say　through　the　fiery　veil；　〃Unbeliever；　why　do　you　not　resume　your　journey　to　Foul's　Creche？　Surely　you　do　not　believe　that　the　Despiser　will　permit　your　flight…after　he　has　striven　so　to　bring　about　this　confrontation　of　which　you　speak。〃
　　　　〃He　won't　want　me　to　get　away；〃　Covenant　replied　emptily；　surely。　〃But　I　think　he's　too　busy　doing　other　things　to　stop　me。　And　if　I　can　slip　through　his　fingers　just　once；　he'll　let　me　go…at　least　for　a　while。　I've…I've　already　done　so　much　for　him。　The　only　thing　he　still　wants　from　me　is　the　ring。　If　I　don't　threaten　him　with　it；　he'll　let　me　go　while　he　fights　the　Lords。　And　then　he'll　be　too　late。　I'll　be　gone　as　far　as　the　Ranyhyn　can　take　me。〃
　　　　〃But　what　of　this…this　Creator''…Triock　spat　the　word…〃who　they　say　also　chose　you。　Has　he　no　hold　upon　you？〃
　　　　Sleepiness　only　strengthened　Covenant's　confidence。　〃I　don't　owe　him　anything。　He　chose　me　for　this…I　didn't　choose　it　or　him。　If　he　doesn't　like　what　I　do；　let　him　find　someone　else。〃
　　　　〃But　what　of　the　people　who　have　died　and　suffered　for　you？〃　Triock's　anger　returned；　and　he　ripped　the　words　as　if　they　were　illustrations　of　meaning　which　he　tore　from　the　walls　of　a　secret　Hall　of　Gifts　deep　within　him。　〃How　will　you　supply　the　significance　they　have　earned　from　you？　They　have　lost　themselves　in　bootless　death　if　you　flee。〃
　　　　I　know；　Covenant　sighed　to　the　sharp　flames　and　the　wind。　We're　all　futile；　alive　or　dead。　He　made　an　effort　to　speak　clearly　through　his　ing　sleep。　〃What　kind　of　significance　will　it　give　them　if　I　mit　suicide？　They　won't　thank　me　for　throwing　away…something　that　cost　them　so　much。　While　I'm　alive〃…he　lost　the　thought；　then　recovered　it…〃while　I'm　alive；　the　Land　is　still　alive。〃
　　　　〃Because　it　is　your　dream！〃
　　　　Yes。　For　that　reason　among　others。
　　　　Covenant　experienced　a　moment　of　stillness　before　the　passion　of　Triock's　response　penetrated　him。　Then　he　hauled　himself　up　and　peered　Wearily　through　the　fire　at　the　Stonedownor。　Because　he　could　think　of　nothing　else　to　say；　he　murmured；　〃Why　don't　you　get　some　rest？　You　probably　exhausted　yourself　waiting　for　me。〃
　　　　〃I　have　given　up　sleep。〃
　　　　Covenant　yawned。　〃Don't　be　ridiculous。　What　do　you　think　you　are？　A　Bloodguard？〃
　　　　In　answer；　Triock　laughed　tautly；　like　a　cord　about　to　snap。
　　　　The　sound　made　Covenant　feel　that　something　was　wrong；　that　he　should　not　have　been　so　irresistibly　sleepy。　He　should　have　had　the　strength　to　meet　Triock's　distress　responsibly。　But　he　could　hardly　keep　his　eyes　open。　Rubbing　his　stiff　face；　he　said；　〃Why　don't　you　admit　it？　You're　afraid　I'll　sneak　off　as　soon　as　you　stop　watching　me。〃
　　　　〃I　do　not　mean　to　lose　you　now；　Thomas　Covenant。〃
　　　　〃I　wouldn't…do　that　to　you。''　Covenant　blinked　and　found　his　cheek　resting　against　the　hard　ground。　He　could　not　remember　having　reclined。　Wake　up；　he　said　to　himself　without　conviction。　Sleep　seemed　to　be　falling　on　him　out　of　the　grayness　of　the　sky。　He　mumbled；　〃I　still　don't　know　how　you　found　me。〃　But　he　was　asleep　before　the　sound　of　his　voice　reached　his　ears。
　　　　He　felt　he　had　been　unconscious　for　only　a　moment　when　he　became　aware　on　a　half…subliminal　level　of　darknesses　thronging　toward　him　out　of　the　winter；　as　abysmal　as　death。　Against　them　came　faint　alien　gleams　of　music　which　he　recognized　and　did　not　remember。　They　melodied　themselves　about　him　in　blue…green　intervals　that　he　could　neither　hear　nor　see。　They　appeared　weak；　elusive；　like　voices　calling　to　him　across　a　great　distance。　But　they　were　insistent；　they　nudged　him；　sang　to　him；　plied　him　toward　consciousness。　Through　his　unprehending　stupor；　they　danced　a　blind；　voiceless　warning　of　peril。
　　　　To　his　own　surprise；　he　heard　himself　muttering：　He　drugged　me。　By　hell！　that　crazy　man　drugged　me。　The　assertion　made　no　sense。　How　had　he　arrived　at　such　a　conclusion？　Triock　was　an　honest　man；　frank　and　magnanimous　in　grief…a　man　who　clove　to　mercy　and　peace　despite　their　cost　to　himself。
　　　　He　drugged　me。
　　　　Where　had　that　conviction　e　from？　Covenant　fumbled　with　numb　fingers　through　his　unconsciousness；　while　an　unshakable　sense　of　peril　clutched　his　heart。　Darkness　and　harm　crowded　toward　him。　Behind　his　sleep…behind　the　glaucous　music…he　seemed　to　see　Triock's　campfire　still　burning。
　　　　How　did　he　light　that　fire？
　　　　How　did　he　find　me？
　　　　The　urgent　gleams　were　trying　to　tell　him　things　he　could　not　hear。　Triock　was　a　danger。　Triock　had　drugged　him。　He　must　get　up　and　flee…flee　somewhere…flee　into　the　Forest。
　　　　He　struggled　into　a　sitting　position；　wrenched　his　eyes　open。　He　faced　the　low　campfire　in　the　last　dead　light　of　evening。　Winter　blew　about　him　as　if　it　were　salivating　gall。　He　could　smell　the　approach　of　snow；　already　a　few　fetid　flakes　were　visible　at　the　edges　of　the　firelight。　Triock　sat　cross…legged　opposite　him；　s