srdonaldson.thepowerthatpreserves-第7部分

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all　the　intercourse　of　their　daily　lives；　even　in　all　the　mind　melding　which　was　the　great　strength　of　the　new　Lords；　he　was　forced　to　hold　that　sickening　hope　and　fear　apart；　away　from　them。　For　he　had　not　told　them　his　secret。
　　　　He　had　not　told　them；　though　he　had　no　justification　for　his　silence　except　dread。
　　　　Intuitively；　by　steps　which　he　could　hardly　articulate；　Elena's　marrowmeld　sculpture　had　taught　him　the　secret　of　the　Ritual　of　Desecration。
　　　　He　felt　that　there　was　enough　hope　and　fear　in　the　knowledge　to　last　him　a　lifetime。
　　　　In　the　back　of　his　mind；　he　believed　that　Bannor　had　wanted　him　to　have　this　knowledge　and　had　not　been　able　to　utter　it　directly。　The　Bloodguard　Vow　had　restricted　Bannor　in　so　many　ways。　But　during　the　single　year　of　his　tenure　as　First　Mark；　he　had　expressed　more　than　any　Bloodguard　before　him　his　solicitude　for　the　survival　of　the　Lords。
　　　　High　Lord　Mhoram　winced　unconsciously　at　the　memory。　The　secret　he　now　held　had　been　expensive　in　more　ways　than　one。
　　　　There　was　hope　in　the　knowledge　because　it　answered　the　quintessential　failure　which　had　plagued　the　new　Lords　from　the　beginning…from　the　days　in　which　they　had　accepted　the　First　Ward　of　Kevin's　Lore　from　the　Giants；　and　had　sworn　the　Oath　of　Peace。　If　it　were　used；　the　knowledge　promised　to　unlock　the　power　which　had　remained　sealed　in　the　Wards　despite　the　best　efforts　of　so　many　generations　of　Lords　and　students　at　the　Loresraat。　It　promised　mastery　of　Kevin's　Lore。　It　might　even　show　ur…Lord　Thomas　Covenant　how　to　use　the　wild　magic　in　his　white　gold　　　ring。
　　　　But　Mhoram　had　learned　that　the　very　thing　which　made　Kevin's　Lore　powerful　for　good　also　made　it　powerful　for　ill。　If　Kevin　son　of　Loric　had　not　had　that　particular　capacity　for　power；　he　would　not　have　been　able　to　Desecrate　the　Land。
　　　　If　Mhoram　shared　his　knowledge；　any　Lord　who　wished　to　reinvoke　the　Ritual　would　not　be　forced　to　rely　upon　an　instinctive　distrust　of　life。
　　　　That　knowledge　violated　the　Oath　of　Peace。　To　his　horror；　Mhoram　had　e　to　perceive　that　the　Oath　itself　was　the　essential　blindness；　the　incapacity　which　had　prevented　the　new　Lords　from　penetrating　to　the　heart　of　Kevin's　Lore。　When　the　first　new　Lords；　and　all　the　Land　with　them；　had　taken　the　Oath；　articulated　their　highest　ideal　and　deepest　mitment　by　forswearing　all　violent；　destructive　passions；　all　human　instincts　for　murder　and　ravage　and　contempt…when　they　had　bound　themselves　with　the　Oath；　they　had　unwittingly　numbed　themselves　to　the　basic　vitality　of　the　Old　Lords'　power。　Therefore　High　Lord　Mhoram　feared　to　share　his　secret。　It　was　a　strength　which　could　only　be　used　if　the　wielders　denied　the　most　basic　promise　of　their　lives。　It　was　a　weapon　which　could　only　be　used　by　a　person　who　had　cast　down　all　defenses　against　despair。
　　　　And　the　temptation　to　use　that　weapon　would　be　strong；　perhaps　irrefusable。　Mhoram　did　not　need　oracular　dreams　to　foresee　the　peril　which　Lord　Foul　the　Despiser　was　preparing　for　the　defenders　of　the　Land。　He　could　feel　it　in　the　frigid　winter　wind。　And　he　knew　that　Trothgard　was　already　under　attack。　The　siege　of　Revelwood　was　under　way　even　while　he　sat　in　his　private　quarters；　staring　morosely　at　a　marrowmeld　sculpture。
　　　　He　could　taste　in　his　own　mouth　the　desperation　which　had　led　High　Lord　Kevin　to　Kiril　Threndor　and　the　Ritual　of　Desecration。　Power　was　dreadful　and　treacherous。　When　it　was　not　great　enough　to　acplish　its　wielder's　desires；　it　turned　against　the　hands　which　held　it。　High　Lord　Elena's　fate　only　repeated　the　lesson　of　Kevin　Landwaster；　he　had　possessed　far　more　power　than　the　new　Lords　could　ever　hope　for；　now　that　the　Staff　of　Law　was　gone；　and　all　his　might　had　achieved　nothing　but　his　own　ineluctable　despair　and　the　ruin　of　the　Land。　Mhoram　feared　to　share　that　danger　by　revealing　his　secret。　He　was　appalled　to　think　he　was　in　such　peril　himself。
　　　　Yet　this　withholding　of　knowledge　ran　against　every　grain　of　his　character。　He　believed　intensely　that　the　refusal　to　share　knowledge　demeaned　both　the　denier　and　the　denied。　By　keeping　the　secret　to　himself；　he　prevented　Callindrill　and　Amatin　and　Trevor　and　Loerya　and　every　Lorewarden　or　student　of　the　Staff　from　finding　within　themselves　the　strength　to　refuse　Desecration；　he　placed　himself　falsely　in　the　position　of　a　judge　who　had　weighed　them　and　found　them　wanting。　For　this　reason　ten　years　ago　he　had　argued　passionately　against　the　Council's　decision　to　withhold　from　Hile　Troy　the　knowledge　of　Elena's　parentage。　That　decision　had　lessened　Troy's　control　over　his　own　fate。　Yet　how　could　he；　Mhoram；　bear　the　responsibility　of　sharing　his　secret　if　that　sharing　led　to　the　Land's　destruction？　Better　that　the　evil　should　be　done　by　the　Despiser　than　by　a　Lord。
　　　　When　he　heard　the　abrupt　knock　at　his　door；　he　said；　〃Enter；〃　at　once。　He　was　expecting　a　message；　and　he　knew　from　the　sound　of　the　knock　who　his　visitor　was。　He　did　not　look　up　from　his　contemplation　of　the　sculpture　as　Warmark　Quaan　strode　into　the　chamber　and　presented　himself　at　the　table。
　　　　But　Quaan　remained　silent；　and　Mhoram　sensed　that　the　old　Warmark　was　waiting　to　meet　his　gaze。　With　an　inward　sigh；　the　High　Lord　raised　his　head。　In　Quaan's　age…　and　sun…weathered　face；　he　read　that　the　news　was　not　what　they　had　hoped　it　would　be。
　　　　Mhoram　did　not　offer　Quaan　a　seat；　he　could　see　that　the　Warmark　preferred　to　stand。　They　had　sat　together　often　enough　in　the　past。　After　all　the　experiences　they　had　shared；　they　were　old　rades…though　Quaan；　who　was　twenty　years　younger　than　Mhoram；　looked　twenty　years　older。　And　the　High　Lord　frequently　found　Quaan's　blunt；　soldierly　candor　soothing。　Quaan　was　a　follower　of　the　Sword　who　had　no　desire　to　know　any　secrets　of　the　Staff。
　　　　Despite　his　seventy　years；　Quaan　carried　proudly　the　insignia　of　his　office：　the　yellow　breastplate　with　its　twin　black　diagonal　slashes；　the　yellow　headband；　and　the　ebony　sword。　His　gnarled　hands　hung　at　his　sides　as　if　they　were　ready　to　snatch　up　weapons　at　any　moment。　But　his　pale　eyes　were　disquieted。
　　　　Mhoram　met　the　Warmark's　gaze　steadily　and　said；　〃Well；　my　friend？〃
　　　　〃High　Lord；〃　Quaan　said　brusquely；　〃the　Loresraat　has　e。〃
　　　　Mhoram　could　see　that　the　Warmark　had　more　to　say　than　this。　His　eyes　asked　Quaan　to　continue。
　　　　〃All　the　Lorewardens　and　students　have　made　the　journey　from　Trothgard　safely；〃　Quaan　responded。　〃The　libraries　of　the　Loresraat　and　the　Wards　have　been　brought　here　intact。　All　the　visitors　and　those　made　homeless　by　the　march　of　Satansfist's　army　through　the　Center　Plains　have　e　seeking　sanctuary。　Revelwood　is　besieged。〃
　　　　He　stopped　again；　and　Mhoram　asked　quietly；　〃What　word　do　the　Lorewardens　bring　of　that　army？〃
　　　　〃It　is…vast；　High　Lord。　It　assaults　the　Valley　of　Two　Rivers　like　a　sea。　The　Giant…Raver　Satansfist　bears　with　him　the…the　same　power　which　we　saw　in　Fleshharrower　at　the　battle　of　Doriendor　Corishev。　He　easily　overcame　the　river　fords　of　the　Rill　and　Llurallin。　Revelwood　will　soon　fall　to　him。〃
　　　　The　High　Lord　put　a　measure　of　sternness　in　his　voice　to　counter　Quaan's　dismay。　〃We　were　forewarned；　Warmark。　When　the　Giant…Raver　and　his　horde　climbed　Landsdrop　to　the　north　of　the　Plains　of　Ra；　the　Ramen　sent　word　to　us。　Therefore　the　Loresraat　has　been　preserved。〃
　　　　Quaan　braced　one　hand　on　his　sword　and　said；　〃Lord　Callindrill　has　remained　in　Revelwood。〃
　　　　Mhoram　winced　in　painful　surprise。
　　　　〃He　has　remained　to　defend　the　tree　city。　With　him　are　five　Howard　manded　by　Hiltmark　Amorine…also　Sword…Elder　Drinishok　and　Staff…Elder　Asuraka。〃
　　　　After　the　first　jolt　of　the　news；　the　High　Lord's　gold…flecked　irises　concentrated　dangerously。　〃Warmark；　the　Council　manded　that　Revelwood　should　be　defended　only　by　those　of　the　lillianrill　who　could　not　bear　to　abandon　it。　The　Council　manded　that　the　battle　for　the　Land　should　take　place　here〃…he　slapped　the　table　with　his　palm…〃where　we　can　exact　the　greatest　possible　price　for　our　lives。〃
　　　　〃You　and　I　are　not　at　Revelwood；〃　Quaan　replied　bluntly。　〃Who　there　could　mand　Lord　Callindrill　to　turn　aside　from　his　purpose？　Amorine　could　not…you　know　this。　They　are　bound　together　by　the　costs　they　bore　at　Doriendor　Corishev。　Nor　could　she　leave　him　alone。　Nor　could　she　refuse　the　aid　of　the　Elders。〃
　　　　His　voice　was　sharp　in　Hiltmark　Amorine's　defense；　but　he　stopped　when　Mhoram　with　a　distracted　gesture　waved　all　questions　of　anger　aside。　They　remained　together　in　silence　for　a　moment。　The　High　Lord　felt　an　aching　anticipation　of　grief；　but　he　forced　it　down。　His　eyes　wandered　back　to　the　bust　on　the　table。　Softly；　he　said；　〃Has　this　word　been　given　to　Faer　Callindrill…mate？〃
　　　　〃Corimini　the　Eldest　of　the　Loresraat　went　to　her　at　once。　Callindrill　studied　with　him；　and　he　has　known　them　both　for　many　years。　He　apologized　for　not　first　paying　his　respects　to　the　High　Lord。〃
　　　　Mhoram　shrugged　away　the　need　for　any　apology。　His　helplessness　to　reach　Callindrill　hurt　him。　He　was　six　days　from　Revelwood　by　horse。　And　he　could　not　call　upon　the　Ranyhyn。　The　Despiser's　army　had　effectively　cut　Revelstone　off　from　the　Plains　of　Ra；　any　Ranyhyn　that　tried　to　answer　a　summons　would