srdonaldson.thepowerthatpreserves-第8部分

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fectively　cut　Revelstone　off　from　the　Plains　of　Ra；　any　Ranyhyn　that　tried　to　answer　a　summons　would　almost　certainly　be　slaughtered　and　eaten。　All　the　High　Lord　could　do　was　wait…and　pray　that　Callindrill　and　his　panions　fled　Revelwood　before　Satansfist　encircled　them。　Two　thousand　warriors　and　the　Hiltmark　of　the　Warward；　two　of　the　leaders　of　the　Lorewardens；　one　Lord…it　was　a　terrible　price　to　pay　for　Callindrill's　bravado。
　　　　But　even　as　he　thought　this；　Mhoram　knew　that　Callindrill　was　not　acting　out　of　bravado。　The　Lord　simply　could　not　endure　the　thought　that　Revelwood　might　perish。　Mhoram　privately　hoped　Satansfist　would　let　the　tree　stand…use　it　rather　than　destroy　it。　But　Callindrill　had　no　such　hope。　Ever　since　he　had　faltered　during　the　battle　of　Doriendor　Corishev；　he　had　seen　himself　as　a　man　who　had　disgraced　his　Lord's　duty；　failed　to　meet　the　challenge　of　the　Land's　need。　He　had　seen　himself　as　a　coward。　And　now　Revelwood；　the　fairest　work　of　the　new　Lords；　was　under　attack。　Mhoram　sighed　again；　and　gently　touched　the　bone　of　the　marrowmeld　with　his　fingers。
　　　　In　the　back　of　his　mind；　he　was　readying　his　decision。
　　　　〃Quaan；　my　friend；〃　he　mused　grimly；　〃what　have　we　acplished　in　seven　years？〃
　　　　As　if　this　signaled　an　end　to　the　formal　side　of　their　conversation；　Quaan　lowered　himself　into　a　chair　opposite　Mhoram；　and　allowed　his　square　shoulders　to　sag　fractionally。　〃We　have　prepared　for　the　siege　of　Revelstone　with　all　our　strength。　We　have　restored　the　Warward　somewhat…the　ten　Howards　which　survived　have　been　increased　to　twenty…five。　We　have　brought　the　people　of　the　Center　Plains　here；　out　of　Satansfist's　way。　We　have　stored　food；　weapons；　supplies。　The　Gray　Slayer　will　require　more　than　a　sea　of　ur…viles　and　Cavewights　to　break　our　hold　here。〃
　　　　〃He　has　more；　Quaan。〃　Mhoram　continued　to　stroke　the　strangely　revealing　face　of　the　anundivian　yajna　bust。　〃And　we　have　lost　the　Bloodguard。〃
　　　　〃Through　no　fault　of　ours。''　Quaan's　pain　at　the　loss　made　him　sound　indignant。　He　had　fought　side…by…side　with　the　Bloodguard　more　than　any　other　warrior　in　the　Land。　〃We　could　not　have　known　at　that　time；　when　the　mission　to　Seareach　was　given　to　Korik　and　the　Bloodguard；　that　the　Gray　Slayer　would　attack　the　Giants　with　the　Illearth　Stone。　We　could　not　have　known　that　Korik　would　defeat　a　Raver　and　would　attempt　to　bring　a　piece　of　the　Stone　here。〃
　　　　〃We　could　not　have　known；〃　Mhoram　echoed　hollowly。　After　all；　the　end　of　his　oracular　dreams　was　not　a　great　loss。　Despite　the　myriad　terrors　he　had　beheld；　he　had　not　glimpsed　or　guessed　at　Lord　Foul's　attack　on　the　Giants　in　time。　〃My　friend；　do　you　remember　what　Bannor　told　us　concerning　this　sculpture？〃
　　　　〃High　Lord？〃
　　　　〃He　reported　that　Elena　daughter　of　Lena　carved　it　of　Thomas　Covenant；　Unbeliever　and　white　gold　wielder…and　that　ur…Lord　Covenant　mistook　it　for　the　face　of　a　Bloodguard。〃　Banner　had　also　reported　that　Covenant　had　forced　him　to　tell　Elena　the　name　of　the　Power　hidden　in　the　Seventh　Ward；　so　that　she　could　meet　the　conditions　for　approaching　that　Power。　But　Mhoram　was　interested　for　the　moment　in　the　resemblance　which　High　Lord　Elena　had　worked　into　her　carving。　That　had　been　the　starting　point；　the　beginning　from　which　he　had　traveled　to　reach　his　secret　knowledge。　〃She　was　a　true　Craftmaster　of　the　bone…sculpting　skill。　She　would　not　unwittingly　have　made　such　confusion　possible。〃
　　　　Quaan　shrugged。
　　　　Mhoram　smiled　fondly　at　the　Warmark's　unwillingness　to　hazard　opinions　beyond　his　petence。　〃My　friend；〃　he　said；　〃I　saw　the　resemblance；　but　could　not　decipher　it。　Ahanna　daughter　of　Hanna　aided　me。　Though　she　does　not　know　the　marrowmeld　skill；　she　has　an　artist's　eye。　She　perceived　the　meaning　which　Elena　made　here。
　　　　〃Quaan；　the　resemblance　is　that　both　ur…Lord　Covenant　the　Unbeliever　and　Banner　of　the　Bloodguard　require　absolute　answers　to　their　own　lives。　With　the　Bloodguard　it　was　their　Vow。　They　demanded　of　themselves　either　pure；　flawless　service　forever　or　no　service　at　all。　And　the　Unbeliever　demands…〃
　　　　〃He　demands；''　Quaan　said　sourly；　〃that　his　world　is　real　and　ours　is　not。〃
　　　　Another　smile　eased　Mhoram's　somberness；　then　faded。　〃This　demand　for　absolute　answers　is　dangerous。　Kevin；　too；　required　either　victory　or　destruction。〃
　　　　The　Warmark　met　Mhoram's　gaze　grimly　for　a　moment　before　he　said；　〃Then　do　not　resummon　the　Unbeliever。　High　Lord；　he　will　lay　waste　the　Land　to　preserve　his　'real'　world。〃
　　　　Mhoram　cocked　an　eyebrow　at　Quaan；　and　his　crooked　lips　tightened。　He　knew　that　the　Warmark　had　never　trusted　Covenant；　yet　in　this　time　of　crisis　any　doubt　was　more　important；　less　answerable。　But　before　he　could　reply；　urgent　knuckles　pounded　at　his　door。　The　tight　voice　of　a　sentry　hissed；　〃High　Lord；　e　swiftly！　High　Lord！〃
　　　　Immediately；　Mhoram　stood　and　moved　toward　the　door。　As　he　strode；　he　banished　all　his　reveries；　and　brought　his　senses　into　focus　on　the　ambience　of　Revelstone；　searching　it　for　the　cause　of　the　sentry's　distress。
　　　　Quaan；　reaching　the　door　a　step　ahead　of　him；　thrust　it　open。　Mhoram　hastened　out　into　the　bright；　round　courtyard。
　　　　The　whole　high　cavern　of　the　court　was　clearly　illuminated　by　the　pale…yellow　light　which　shone　up　through　the　stone　floor；　but　Mhoram　did　not　need　to　look　up　to　any　of　the　projecting　coigns　in　the　cavern　walls　to　see　why　the　sentry　had　called　him。　Lord　Amatin　stood　in　the　center　of　the　floor's　inextinguishable　light。　She　faced　him　with　her　back　to　her　own　chambers；　as　if　she　had　been　on　her　way　toward　him　when　the　distress　had　e　upon　her。
　　　　In　her　hands　she　gripped　the　lomillialor　munication　rod　which　the　Loresraat　had　given　to　Revelstone　seven　years　ago。
　　　　She　looked　like　a　dark　shadow　against　the　bright　floor；　and　in　her　hands　the　High　Wood　burned　flamelessly；　like　a　slit　opening　into　a　furnace。　Small　cold　balls　of　sparks　dropped　in　spurts　from　the　wood。　Mhoram　understood　instantly　that　she　was　receiving　a　message　from　whomever　it　was　who　held　the　other　munication　rod；　the　one　at　Revelwood。
　　　　He　snatched　up　his　long；　iron…heeled　staff　from　its　tripod　outside　his　door　and　strode　across　the　courtyard　to　Amatin。　He　knew　from　experience　that　the　sending　or　receiving　of　lomillialor　messages　was　an　exhausting　ordeal。　Amatin　would　want　his　help。　She　was　not　physically　strong；　and　knew　it；　when　word　of　the　Despiser's　army　had　reached　the　Lords；　she　had　transferred　to　Callindrill　her　responsibility　for　Revelwood…hers　because　of　her　passionate　love　for　lore…because　she　believed　she　lacked　the　sheer　bodily　toughness　to　endure　prolonged　strain。　Yet　hidden　within　her　slight　waifish　frame　and　grave　eyes　was　a　capacity　for　knowledge；　a　devotion　to　study；　which　no　other　Lord　could　match。　The　High　Lord　had　often　thought　that　she　was　better　equipped　and　less　likely　to　uncover　his　secret　than　anyone　else　in　the　Land。
　　　　Now；　silhouetted　by　the　bright　floor　of　the　courtyard；　she　looked　thin　and　frail…a　mere　image　cast　by　the　power　in　her　hands。　Her　whole　body　trembled；　and　she　held　the　lomillialor　rod　at　arm's　length　as　if　to　keep　it　as　far　from　herself　as　possible　without　releasing　it。　She　started　to　speak　before　Mhoram　reached　her。
　　　　〃Asuraka；〃　she　gasped。　〃Asuraka　speaks。〃　Her　voice　juddered　like　a　branch　in　a　high　wind。　〃Satansfist。　Fire。　Fire！　The　tree！　Ahh！〃　As　she　panted　the　words；　she　stared　at　Mhoram　in　wide　dismay　as　if　through　him　she　could　see　flames　chewing　at　the　trunks　of　Revelwood。
　　　　Mhoram　stopped　within　reach　of　the　High　Wood　and　planted　his　staff　like　a　mand　on　the　floor。　Pitching　his　voice　to　penetrate　her　transfixion；　he　said；　〃Hold　fast；　Amatin。　I　hear。〃
　　　　She　ducked　her　head；　trying　to　avoid　what　she　saw；　and　words　spattered　past　her　lips　as　if　someone　had　hurled　a　heavy　boulder　into　the　waters　of　her　soul。　〃Fire！　The　bark　burns。　The　wood　burns。　The　Stone！　Leaves；　roots；　fibers　are　consumed。　Callindrill　fights。　Fights！　Screams…　the　warriors　scream。　The　south　hall　burns！　Ah；　my　home！〃
　　　　Grimly；　Mhoram　clenched　his　fist　around　the　center　of　the　lomillialor　rod。　The　power　of　the　message　stung　him；　jolted　him　from　head　to　foot；　but　he　gripped　the　smooth　wood　and　forced　the　strength　of　his　will　into　it。　Through　it；　he　reached　Amatin；　steadied　her；　and　with　her　support　he　reversed　the　flow　of　power　through　the　High　Wood　for　an　instant。　Against　the　flood　of　Asuraka's　emotion；　he　hissed　toward　her；　〃Flee！〃
　　　　The　Staff…Elder　heard。　Through　Amatin's　lips；　she　cried　back；　〃Flee？　We　cannot　flee！　Revelwood　dies　under　us。　We　are　surrounded。　All　the　outer　branches　burn。　Two　trunks　are　aflame　to　their　tops。　Screams！　Screams。　Lord　Callindrill　stands　in　the　viane　and　fights。　The　central　trunks　burn。　The　net　of　the　viane　burns。　Callindrill！〃
　　　　〃Water！〃　Mhoram　dashed　his　words　at　Asuraka　through　the　munication　rod。　〃Call　the　rivers！　Flood　the　valley！〃
　　　　For　a　moment；　the　pressure　from　Asuraka　sagged；　as　if　she　had　turned　away　from　her　rod。　Mhoram　breathed　urgently；　〃Asuraka！　Staff…Elder！〃　He　feared　that　she　had　fallen　in　the　fire。　When　she　resumed　her　message；　she　felt　distant；　desolate。
　　　　〃Lord　Callindrill　called　the　rivers…earlier。　Satansfist　turned　the　flood　aside。　He…the　Illearth　Stone…〃　A　n