fs.thefirstbookofswords-第22部分

快捷操作: 按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页 按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页 按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！

　　　The　clear　light　from　the　Old　World　wall　panels　glinted　softly　on　mirror　steel。　Beneath　the　surface　of　the　blade；　the　Duke's　eye　seemed　to　be　able　to　trace　a　beautiful；　finely　mottled　pattern　that　went　centimeters　deep　into　the　metal；　though　the　blade　was　nowhere　a　full　centimeter　thick。
　　　Putting　both　hands　on　the　hilt；　the　Duke　lifted　the　sword　gently　from　the　magical　protection　of　the　chest。　〃Are　they　ready　out　on　the　terrace？〃　he　asked；　without　taking　his　eyes　from　the　blade　itself。
　　　〃They　have　so　indicated；　Your　Grace。〃
　　　Now　the　Duke；　holding　the　sword　raised　before　him　as　if　in　ritual；　led　the　way　out　of　the　blind　room　behind　the　arras；　across　a　larger　chamber；　and　through　another　doorway；　whose　curtains　were　stirred　by　an　outdoor　breeze。　The　terrace　on　which　he　emerged　was　open　to　the　air；　and　yet　it　was　a　secret　place。　The　view　was　cut　off　on　all　sides　by　stone　walls；　and　by　high　hedges　planted　near　at　hand。　On　the　stone　pavement　under　the　gray　sky；　several　soldiers　in　blue　and　white　were　waiting；　and　with　them　one　other　man；　a　prisoner。　The　prisoner；　a　middle…aged；　well…muscled　man；　wore　only　a　loincloth　and　was　not　bound　in　any　way。　Yet　he　was　sweating　profusely　and　kept　looking　about　him　in　all　directions；　as　if　he　expected　his　doom　to　spring　out　at　him　at　any　moment。
　　　The　Duke　trusted　his　wizard　to　hold　the　sword　briefly；　while　he　himself　quickly　slipped　a　mail　shirt　on　over　his　head；　and　put　on　a　light　helm。　Then　he　took　back　the　sword；　and　stood　holding　it　like　the　experienced　swordsman　that　he　was。
　　　The　Duke　gestured　toward　the　prisoner。　〃Arm　him；　and　step　back。〃
　　　Most　of　the　soldiers；　weapons　ready；　retreated　a　step　or　two。　One　tossed　a　long　knife；　unsheathed；　at　the　prisoner's　feet。
　　　〃What　is　this？〃　the　man　demanded；　his　voice　cracking。
　　　〃e　fight　me；〃　said　the　Duke。　〃Or　refuse；　and　die　more　slowly。　It　is　all　one　to　me。〃
　　　The　man　hesitated　a　moment　longer；　then　picked　up　the　knife。
　　　The　Duke　walked　forward　to　the　attack。　The　prisoner　did　what　he　could　to　defend　himself；　which；　given　the　disparity　in　arms　and　armor；　was　not　much。
　　　When　it　was　over；　a　minute　later；　the　Duke　wiped　the　long　blade　clean　himself；　and　with　a　gesture　dismissed　his　troops；　who　bore　away　with　them　the　prisoner's　body。
　　　〃I　felt　no　power　in　it；　Blue…Robes。　It　killed；　but　any　sharp　blade　would　have　killed　as　well。　If　its　power　is　not　activated　by　being　carried　into　a　fight；　then　how　can　it　be　ordered；　how　controlled？　And　what　does　it　do？〃
　　　The　wizard　signed　humbly　that　he　did　not　know。
　　　The　Duke　bore　the　cleaned　blade　back　into　the　concealed　room　behind　the　arras；　and　replaced　it　in　the　magically　protective　chest。　Still　his　hand　lingered　on　the　black　hilt；　tracing　with　one　finger　the　thin　white　lines　of　decoration。　〃Something　like　a　castle　wall　on　his　sword；　the　fellow　said。〃
　　　〃So　he　did；　Your　Grace。〃
　　　〃But　here　I　see　no　castle　wall。　Here　there's　nothing　more　or　less　than　what　we've　seen　in　the　pattern　since　that　woman　brought　me　the　sword　a　month　ago。　This　shows　a　pair　of　dice。〃
　　　〃Indeed　it　does；　Your　Grace：〃　〃Dice。　And　she　who　brought　it　to　me　from　the　Red　Temple　said　that　the　soldier　who　left　it　with　her　had　been　wont　to　play；　and　win；　at　dice。〃　Annoyingly；　that　soldier　himself　was　dead。　Stabbed；　according　to　the　woman's　story；　within　a　few　breaths　of　the　moment　when　he'd　let　the　sword　out　of　his　hands。　The　killers　who'd　lain　in　wait　for　him　had　evidently　been　some　of　his　fellow　gamblers；　who　were　convinced　he'd　cheated　them。　Duke　Fraktin　had　sent　Sir　Sharfa；　one　of　his　more　trusted　knights；　out　on　a　secret　mission　of　investigation。　〃Am　I　to　cast　dice　for　the　world；　Blue…Robes？〃
　　　The　wizard　let　the　question　pass　as　rhetoric；　without　an　answer。　〃No　mon　soldier；　Your　Grace；　could　have　carried　a　sword　like　this　about　with　him　for　long。　It　would　certainly　have　e　to　the　attention　of　his　officers；　and　then。。。〃
　　　〃It　would　be　taken　from　him；　yes。　Though　quite　likely　not　brought　here　to　me。　And　well；　it's　here　now。〃　And　the　Duke；　sighing；　removed　his　finger　from　the　hilt。　〃Tell　me；　Blue…Robes；　is　it　perhaps　something　like　our　lamps；　some　bit　of　wizardry　left　over　from　the　Old　World？　And　is　the　miller's　tale　of　how　he　came　by　it　only　a　feverish　dream　that　he　once　had；　perhaps　when　his　arm　was　amputated；　perhaps　after　he'd　caught　it　clumsily　in　his　own　saw　or　his　own　millstones？〃
　　　〃I　am　sure　Your　Grace　understands　that　none　of　those　suggestions　are　really　possible。　Much　of　the　miller's　tale　is　independently　confirmed。　And　we　know　that　the　Old　World　technologists　made　no　swords；　they　had　more　marvelous　ways　to　kill；　ways　still　forbidden　us　by　Ardneh's　Change。　They　had　in　truth　the　gun；　the　bomb。。。　〃
　　　〃Oh；　I　know　that；　I　know　that。。。　but　stick　to　what　is　real　and　practical；　not　what　may　have　happened　in　the　days　of　legend。。。　Blue…Robes；　do　you　think　the　Old　World　really　had　to　endure　gods　as　well　as　their　nonsense　of　technology？　Ardneh；　I　suppose；　was　really　there。〃
　　　〃It　would　seem　certain　that　they　did；　Your　Grace。　Many　gods；　not　only　Ardneh。　There　are　innumerable　references　in　the　old　records。　I　have　seen　Vulcan　and　many　others　named。〃
　　　The　Duke　heaved　a　sigh；　a　great　sincere　one　this　time；　and　shook　his　head　again。　As　if　perhaps　he　would　have　liked　to　say；　even　now；　that　there　were　no　gods；　or　ought　to　be　none；　his　own　experience　notwithstanding。
　　　But　here　was　the　sword　before　him；　an　artifact　of　metal　and　magic　vastly　beyond　the　capabilities　of　the　humans　of　the　present　age。　And　it　had　not　been　made　in　the　Old　World　either。　According　to　the　best　information　he　had　available；　it　had　been　made　no　more　than　thirteen　years　ago；　in　the　almost　unpeopled　mountains　on　the　eastern　edge　of　his　own　domain。　If　not　by　Vulcan；　then　by　whom？
Gods　were　rarely　seen　or　heard　from。　But　even　a　powerful　noble　hardly　dared　say　that　they　did　not　exist。　Not；　certainly；　when　his　domain　adjoined　the　Ludus　Mountains。
Chapter　7
　　　Mark　awoke　lying　on　damp　ground；　under　a　sky　much　like　that　of　the　day　before；　gray　and　threatening　rain。　Still；　blanketed　and　fed；　he　was　in　such　relative　fort　that　for　a　moment　he　could　believe　that　he　was　dreaming；　back　in　his　own　bedroom　at　the　mill；　and　that　in　a　moment　he　might　hear　his　father's　voice。　The　illusion　vanished　before　it　could　bee　too　painful。　There　was　Ben；　a　snoring　mound　just　on　the　other　side　of　the　dead　fire；　and　there　was　the　wagon。　From　inside　it　the　little　dragon　had　begun　a　nagging　squall；　sounding　almost　like　a　baby。　No　doubt　it　was　hungry　again。
　　　And　now　the　wagon　shook　faintly　with　human　stirrings　inside　its　cover；　and　now　Ben　sat　up　and　yawned。　Shortly　everyone　was　up　and　moving。　For　breakfast　Barbara　handed　out　stale　bread　and　dried　fruit。　People　munched　as　they　moved　about；　getting　things　packed　up　and　ready　for　the　road。　Preparations　were　made　quickly；　but　fog　was　closing　in　by　the　time　everything　was　ready　to　travel。　With　the　fog；　visibility　became　so　poor　that　Nestor　entrusted　the　reins　to　Ben；　while　he　himself　walked　on　ahead　to　scout　the　way。
　　　〃We're　near　the　frontier；〃　Nestor　cautioned　them　all　before　he　moved　out。　〃Everybody　keep　their　eyes　open。〃
　　　Walking　thirty　meters　or　so　ahead；　about　at　the　limit　of　dependable　visibility；　Nestor　led　the　wagon　along　back　lanes　and　across　fields。　Before　they　had　gone　far；　they　passed　a　gang　of　someone's　field　workers；　serfs　to　judge　by　their　tattered　clothes；　heading　out　with　tools　in　hand　for　the　day's　labor。　When　these　folk　were　greeted；　they　answered　only　with　small　waves　and　nods；　some　refusing　to　respond　at　all。
　　　Shortly　after　this　encounter　Nestor　called　a　halt　and　held　a　conference。　He　now　admitted　freely　that　he　was　lost。　He　thought　it　possible　that　they　might　not　have　crossed　the　frontier　last　night　after　all　…　or　that　they　might　even　have　recrossed　it　to　Duke　Fraktin's　side　this　morning。　Mark　gathered　that　the　border　hereabouts　was　a　zig…zag　affair；　poorly　marked　at　best；　and　in　places　disputed　or　uncertain。　However　that　might　be；　all　they　could　do　now　was　keep　trying　to　press　on　to　the　south。
　　　The　four　people　in　and　around　the　wagon　squinted　up　through　fog　that　appeared　to　be　growing　thicker；　if　anything。　They　did　their　best　to　locate　the　sun；　and　at　last　came　to　a　consensus　of　sorts　on　its　position。
　　　〃That　way's　east；　then。　We'll　be　all　right　now。〃
　　　With　Nestor　again　walking　a　little　ahead　of　the　wagon；　and　Ben　driving；　they　crossed　a　field　and　jolted　into　the　wheel…ruts　of　another　lane。　Time　passed。　The　murky　countryside　flowed　by；　with　a　visibility　now　of　no　more　than　about　twenty　meters。　Nestor　was　a　ghostly　figure；　pacing　at　about　that　distance　ahead　of　the　wagon。
　　　More　time　passed。　Suddenly；　seeming　to　e　from　close　overhead；　there　was　a　soft　sound；　quickly　passing；　as　of　enormous　wings。　Everyone　looked　up。　If　there　had　been　a　shadow；　it　had　already　e　and　gone；　and　no　shape　was　revealed　in　the　bright　grayness。　Mark　exchanged　looks　with　Barbara　and　Ben；　both　of　whom　looked　just　as　puzzled　as　he　felt。　No　one　said　anything。　Mark's　impression　had　been　of　something　very　large　in　flight。　He　had　certainly　never　heard　anything　like　it　before。
　　　Nestor；　who　had　heard　it　to