tw.togreenangeltower2-第137部分

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King　away。〃
　　　　　　　〃　When　frost　doth　grow　on　Claves'　bell　。。。〃　Binabik　recited；　his　voice　ringing　strangely　in　the　stairwell。　His　face　twisted　in　what　looked　like　pain。

〃And　Shadows　walk　upon　the　road
When　water　blackens　in　the　Well
Three　Swords　must　e　again

〃When　Bukken　from　the　Earth　do　creep
And　Hunen　from　the　heights　descend
When　Nightmare　throttles　peaceful　Sleep
Three　Swords　must　e　again

〃To　turn　the　stride　of　treading　Fate
To　clear　the　fogging　Mists　of　Time
If　Early　shall　resist　Too　Late
Three　Swords　must　e　again　。。。〃

　　　　　　　〃I've　heard　it　a　hundred　times！〃　she　snapped。　Anger　only　thinly　covered　her　fear　at　the　little　man's　strange　expression。　〃What　are　you　saying？〃
Binabik　lifted　his　hands。　〃Listen；　listen　to　what　it　is　telling；　Miriamele。　All　the　first　parts　are　true　things　…　diggers；　giants；　the　great　bell　in　Nabban…but　at　the　end　it　only　speaks　of　turning　Fate；　of　clearing　Time　。。。　and　of　Early　fighting　against　Late。〃
　　　　　　　〃So？〃
〃What；　then；　is　to　say　that　it　speaks　to　us！？〃　hissed　Binabik。
　　　　　　　She　was　so　astonished　by　the　troll's　agitation　that　it　took　several　moments　before　his　words　sank　in。　〃Do　you　mean　to　say。。。　？〃
　　　　　　　〃That　it　could　just　as　easily　be　speaking　of　what　will　be　helping　the　Storm　King　himself！　For　what　are　we　mortals　being　to　him　if　not　the　Lateness　to　his　Earliness？　Who　is　turning　this　Fate？　And　whose　fate　is　it　being？〃
　　　　　　　〃But　。。。　but　。。。〃
Binabik　spoke　on　in　a　fury；　as　though　the　words　had　been　unbottled　after　a　long　fermentation　and　now　foamed　free。　〃Where　did　the　idea　to　look　for　this　rhyming　e　to　us？　From　the　dreams　of　Simon　and　Jarnauga　and　others！　The　Dream　Road　has　been　long　promised…Jiriki　and　the　other　Sithi　have　told　that　to　us…but　we　were　frightened　enough　to　believe　those　dreams；　desperate　to　have　some　way　for　fighting　the　returning　Storm　King！〃　He　paused　a　moment；　panting。　〃I　am　sorry；　but　I　have　so　much　angriness　at　my　own　stupidity。。。　'　We　took　a　twig　of　great　slenderness　and　hung　a　bridge　upon　it　without　thinking　more。　Now　we　are　over　the　middle　of　the　chasm。〃　He　slapped　his　palms　against　his　thighs。　〃Scrollbearers；　we　are　now　called。　Kikkasut！〃
　　　　　　　〃So。。。〃　She　struggled　to　understand　the　ins　and　outs　of　what　the　troll　had　said；　a　throb　of　despair　had　begun　beating　inside　her。　〃So　the　dreams　about　Nisses'　book…　those　were　the　false　messengers？　The　ones　that　led　us　to　this　rhyme？〃
　　　　　　　〃That　is　what　I　am　now　thinking。〃
〃But　that　doesn't　make　sense！　Why　would　the　Storm　King　play　such　a　strange　trick？　If　we　cannot　defeat　him；　why　lead　us　to　believe　we　could？〃
Binabik　took　a　breath。　〃Perhaps　he　has　need　of　the　swords；　but　cannot　bring　them　himself。　Pryrates　was　telling　Cadrach　that　he　knew　where　Bright…Nail　was　and　did　not　wish　it　touched。　Perhaps　the　red　priest　was　having　no　plans　of　his　own；　and　was　doing　only　the　Storm　King's　bidding。　I　am　thinking　the　dark　one　in　the　north　needs　the　great　power　that　is　in　those　blades。〃　His　voice　broke。　〃It　。。。　it　is　my　great　fear　that　all　this　has　been　a　plicated　game；　like　the　Sithi's　shent；　created　for　making　us　bring　the　remaining　swords。〃
　　　　　　　Miriamele　sat　back　against　the　wall；　stunned。　〃Then　Josua；　Simon　。。。　all　of　us　。。。〃
　　　　　　　〃Have　been　doing　the　enemy's　bidding　all　along；〃　said　Cadrach　abruptly。　Miriamele　expected　to　hear　satisfaction　in　his　words；　but　there　was　none；　only　hollowness。　〃We　have　been　his　servants。　The　enemy　has　already　won。〃　
　　　　　　　〃Shut　your　mouth；〃　she　spat。　〃Damn　you！　If　you　had　told　us　what　you　knew；　we　would　likely　have　discovered　this　already。〃　She　turned　to　Binabik；　struggling　to　keep　her　wits。　〃If　you're　right；　is　there　anything　we　can　do？〃　
　　　　　　　The　troll　shrugged。　〃Try　to　be　escaping；　then　find　our　way　back　to　Josua　and　the　others　for　warning　them。〃
　　　　　　　Miriamele　stood。　A　few　moments　earlier　she　had　been　rested　and　ready　to　climb　again。　Now　she　felt　as　though　an　ox…yoke　had　been　laid　across　her　shoulders；　a　ponderous；　painful　weight　that　could　not　be　shrugged　off。　There　seemed　little　doubt　that　all　was　indeed　lost。　〃And　even　if　we　find　them；　now　we　will　have　no　weapons　to　use　against　the　Storm　King。〃
　　　　　　　Binabik　did　not　reply。　The　diminutive　troll　seemed　to　have　shrunk　even　smaller。　He　rose　and　began　clambering　up　the　stairs　again。　Miriamele　turned　her　back　on　Cadrach　and　followed　him。

　　　　　　　Order　had　been　overthrown；　screaming；　grinding　chaos　raged　before　the　Hayholt's　walls。　Pale　Norns　and　shaggy；　barking　giants　were　everywhere；　fighting　with　no　discernible　regard　for　their　own　lives；　as　though　their　only　purpose　was　to　strike　horror　into　the　hearts　of　their　enemies。　One　of　the　giants　had　lost　most　of　an　arm　to　a　warrior's　ax…blow；　but　as　it　pushed　through　panicked　human　soldiers　the　huge　beast　swung　the　fountaining　stub　as　vigorously　as　it　did　the　club　in　its　remaining　hand；　both　bining　to　fill　the　surrounding　air　with　a　mist　of　red。　Other　giants　were　yet　unwounded；　and　they　quickly　piled　terrible　carnage　around　themselves。　The　Norns；　almost　as　fierce　but　far　more　canny；　gathered　themselves　into　small　rings　and　stood　shoulder　to　shoulder；　their　needle…sharp　pikes　facing　outward。　The　swiftness　and　battle　mastery　of　the　white…skinned　immortals　was　such　that　they　seemed　to　fell　two　or　three　humans　for　each　one　of　their　own　number　that　fell　。。。　and　as　they　fought；　they　sang。　Their　eerie；　strident　voices　echoed　even　above　the　clamor　of　bat。
And　over　all　hung　the　Conqueror　Star；　glowing　a　sickly　red。
Duke　Isgrimnur　raised　Kvalnir　in　the　air　and　shouted　for　Sludig；　for　Hotvig；　but　his　voice　was　swallowed　by　the　din。　He　turned　his　horse　in　circles；　trying　to　find　some　area　where　the　forces　were　concentrated；　but　already　his　army　was　scattered　in　a　thousand　separate　pieces。　Although　he　had　been　fighting　vigorously　for　some　time；　Isgrimnur　still　could　not　quite　believe　what　was　happening。　They　were　under　attack　by　creatures　out　of　old　stories。　The　battlefield；　grim　but　familiar　less　than　an　hour
before；　had　now　bee　a　nightmare　of　otherworldly　punishment。
　　　　　　　Josua's　standard　had　been　thrown　down；　Isgrimnur　searched　in　vain　for　something　he　could　use　to　give　his　forces　a　rallying　point。　A　giant　fell　to　the　snow；　thrashing　as　it　died　with　a　dozen　arrows　crackling　beneath　it；　and　the　duke's　horse　bolted　away　despite　his　attempts　to　control　it；　pulling　up　at　last　in　an　eddy　of　calm　on　the　part　of　the　northeastern　hillside　nearest　the　Kynswood。
　　　　　　　When　he　had　steadied　his　mount；　Isgrimnur　sheathed　Kvalnir　and　removed　his　helmet；　then　tugged　his　surcoat　up；　grunting　at　the　pain　in　his　back　and　ribs。　For　a　moment　his　bulky　mail　prevented　him　from　pulling　the　garment　over　his　head；　Isgrimnur　struggled；　cursing　and　sweating；　horrified　at　the　thought　of　being　taken　by　surprise　and　struck　down　in　such　a　ridiculous　position。　Thesurcoat　ripped　at　the　armholes　and　he　yanked　it　free　at　last；　then　looked　around　for　something　to　which　he　could　tie　it。　One　of　the　Norns'　pikes　lay　on　the　snow。　Isgrimnur　unsheathed　his　sword；　then　leaned　over；　grunting；　and　hooked　it　up　so　he　could　grab　the　long　shaft。　As　he　tied　the　shirt　sleeves　to　the　smooth　grayish　wood；　he　stared　at　the　bladed　tip　that　seemed　to　blossom　like　a　knife…petaled　flower。　When　he　had　finished；　he　lifted　the　makeshift　banner　above　his　head　and　rode　back　into　the　thick　of　the　battle；　roaring　a　Rimmersgard　war　song　that　even　he　could　not　hear。
　　　　　　　He　had　already　dodged　one　swinging　blow　from　an　ax…wielding　Norn　before　he　realized　his　helm　was　still　swinging　on　his　saddle　horn。　Kvalnir　bounced　ineffectively　from　the　creature's　strange　painted　armor。　Isgrimnur　managed　to　catch　the　returning　blow　on　his　arm；　suffering　only　torn　mail　and　a　shallow　gouge　in　his　flesh；　but　the　Norn　was　very　nimble　on　the　slippery　snow；　and　was　circling　rapidly　for　another　attack。　The　wind　abruptly　blew　the　banner　across　the　duke's　face。
　　　　　　　Killed　by　my　own　shirt；　was　his　brief　thought；　then　the　cloth　flapped　away　again。　A　dark　something　heaved　into　his　field　of　sight　and　the　Norn　staggered　sideways；　blood　erupting　from　a　split　helmet。　The　new　arrival　wheeled　about　in　a　splash　of　snow　and　returned　to　ride　down　Isgrimnur's　reeling　enemy。
　　　　　　　〃You　are　alive；〃　Sludig　gasped；　swiping　his　dripping　ax　against　his　cloak。
Isgrimnur　took　a　breath；　then　shouted　over　the　growing　rumble　of　thunder。　〃This　is　a　damnable　mess…where's　Freosel？〃
　　　　　　　Sludig　indicated　a　knot　of　struggling　shapes　a　hundred　cubits　away。　〃e。　And　put　your　damned　helmet　on。〃
　　　　　　　〃They're　ing　down　the　waits！〃　someone　shouted。
　　　　　　　Isgrimnur　looked　over　to　see　rope　ladders　unrolling　at　the　far　end　of　the　Hayholt's　sloping　outwall。　The　darkening　sky　and　the　dizzying　flashes　of　intermittent　lightning　made　it　hard　to　see　anything　clearly；　but　to　Isgrimnur　the　men　making　their　way　down　the　ladders　looked　like　mortals。
　　　　　　　〃God　damn　their　mercenary　souls！〃　the　duke　growled。　〃And　now　we're　pinched　from　both　sides。　We're　being　forced　back　against　the　walls　and　we　won't　have　the　advantage　of　numbers　much　longer。〃　He　turned　and　looked　past　his　small；　besieged　pany。　Across　the　battlefield　he　could　see　determined　clumps　of　men；　Seriddan's　Nabbanai　legions　and　Hotvig's　horsemen；　trying　to　fight　their　way　toward　his　surcoat…banner；　which　now　waved