df.therunelords-第105部分

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　Chapter　52
　A　PERFECT　DAY
　　
　Orden　woke　in　pain；　unable　to　tell　how　long　ago　he　had　passed　out。　The　blood　around　his　mouth　was　still　wet；　tasted　coppery　on　his　tongue。　Any　moment；　Mendellas　Orden　thought；　Raj　Ahten　will　kick　me　again；　begin　pummeling　me　to　death。
　But　nothing　happened。　Orden　lay　weak；　at　the　edge　of　consciousness；　waiting　for　a　killing　blow　that　never　came。
　With　his　many　endowments　of　stamina；　Orden　could　sustain　tremendous　damage。　His　wounds；　as　extensive　as　they　were　now；　would　not　lead　to　his　death。　Weeks　of　convalescence；　perhaps；　but　not　death。
　That　is　what　he　feared。
　He　opened　his　good　eye；　tried　to　see。　The　sun　high　above　shone　very　dim　through　clouds；　then　the　sky　went　black。
　The　glade　nearby　was　empty。
　He　swallowed；　struggled　to　think。　He'd　heard　the　faint　ching　of　ring　mail　as　he　passed　out。　Realized　numbly　that　it　could　have　been　the　sound　of　Raj　Ahten　lunging　away。
　Orden　looked　around　the　field　at　the　edge　of　the　knoll。　The　wind　faintly　swayed　the　pines；　the　grass　sat　as　if　bent　in　a　stiff　gale。　A　flock　of　starlings　hung　in　the　air　like　thistledown；　not　five　spans　from　him。　But　Orden　was　living　so　quickly；　the　wind　seemed　to　blow　slowly　in　parison。
　Raj　Ahten　had　fled。
　He's　left　me；　Orden　realized；　because　he　suspects　I'm　part　of　a　serpent。　He's　left　me　so　he　can　attack　the　castle。　Dimly；　he　heard　a　roar　like　the　sound　of　the　sea。　Loud　sounds；　as　if　tides　surged　and　churned。　In　his　quickened　state；　the　world　of　sound　had　vastly　changed。
　Now　he　recognized　that　these　must　be　loud　noises；　must　be　cries　of　war。　With　one　hand；　he　pushed　himself　up；　gazed　over　the　rolling　slope　of　Tor　Loman　to　Castle　Longmont。
　What　he　saw　horrified　him。
　Beyond　a　curtain　of　rain　or　sleet；　a　huge　fire　raged　on　the　hillside　above　Longmont。　From　that　otherworldly　fire；　flameweavers　and　salamanders　had　drawn　terrible　energies；　sending　a　green　wave　of　flame　screaming　across　the　downs　to　the　castle。　Frowth　giants　lumbered　over　the　fields　carrying　great　scaling　ladders。　The　mastiffs　of　war；　with　their　iron　collars　and　fierce　masks；　boiled　like　a　dark　tide　toward　the　castle　gates。
　Everywhere　in　the　blackness　Raj　Ahten's　Invincibles　raced　like　dark　roaches　for　the　castle；　shields　high　to　deflect　arrows；　weapons　drawn。
　Raj　Ahten's　forces　were　storming　Longmont。　The　sky　above　the　castle　was　black；　ropes　of　twisted　fire　funneling　from　the　sky。
　King　Orden　watched　from　Tor　Loman。　With　his　endowments　of　metabolism；　it　seemed　the　skies　had　gone　black　for　long　minutes；　one　could　only　discern　the　dim　ropes　of　flame　winding　down　from　heavencoiled　and　churning　like　the　winds　within　a　tornado。
　He　could　do　nothing　to　help。　He　could　not　charge　into　battle；　could　barely　crawl。
　Quietly；　he　began　to　sob。　Raj　Ahten　had　taken　everything　from　himhis　past；　his　present。　Now　his　future。
　In　the　darkness；　Mendellas　turned　and　painfully　struggled　up　the　rough　stone　steps　of　the　tower　to　the　Eyes　of　Tor　Loman。
　To　block　the　agony　of　his　ruined　limbs　from　his　mind；　he　tried　to　remember　good　times。　The　feasts　in　his　palace　in　Mystarria　during　midwinter；　on　Alms　Day。
　Always　the　fogs　washed　over　the　green　swales　on　those　winter　mornings；　and　from　the　pinnacles　of　the　great　tower　one　could　look　down　over　the　marshes　as　if　one　were　a　Sky　Lord　in　a　ship　of　cloudthe　gauzy　fog　so　pure。　In　places；　lesser　towers　of　the　Courts　of　Tide　could　be　seen；　or　the　greens　of　distant　pine　forests　on　the　western　hills；　or　to　the　south　the　shimmering　waters　of　the　Caroll　Sea　reflecting　the　sky。
　On　such　mornings；　he'd　always　loved　to　stand　on　his　own　observatory　in　the　tower；　and　watch　the　geese　in　their　winter　migration　e　winging　below　him　in　dark　Vs。
　He　conjured　the　memory　of　a　perfect　day　long　ago；　when　he'd　descended　from　his　tower；　invigorated　at　dawn；　gone　to　his　wife　in　her　bedchamber。
　He'd　planned　to　fetch　her　up　to　the　observatory；　to　show　her　the　sunrise。　Weeks　before；　an　early　frost　had　killed　the　roses　in　her　garden；　and　he'd　planned　to　show　her　how　the　sun　crept　up　the　horizon　in　the　color　of　the　softest　blushing　rose；　a　rose　that　painted　the　fog　for　miles　around。
　But　when　he　reached　her　bedchamber；　she　had　only　smiled　at　his　request；　then　devised　other　entertainments。
　They'd　made　love　on　the　tiger…skin　rug　before　the　hearth。
　By　the　time　they　finished；　the　sun　had　been　up　for　hours。　The　poor　of　Mystarria　had　gathered　in　the　streets　before　the　castle　to　collect　the　winter's　alms。
　Thus　the　King　and　Queen　had　been　required　to　go　out　in　the　afternoon；　to　spend　the　remainder　of　the　day　riding　the　huge　wains　through　the　street；　where　they　passed　out　meat；　turnips；　dried　fruits；　and　silver　to　those　who　stood　in　need。
　Orden　and　his　wife　had　labored　hard；　stopping　often　to　exchange　smiles；　or　to　let　a　touch　linger。
　Orden　hadn't　thought　of　that　day　for　years；　though　every　sight；　sound；　and　smell　remained　perfect　in　his　memory。　With　twenty　endowments　of　wit；　Orden　could　relive　such　moments　at　will。　It　had　been　a　magic　day。　It　was　the　day；　he　discovered　weeks　later；　he'd　got　his　wife　with　her　first　child；　Gaborn。
　Ah；　how　he　longed　for　her　still。
　As　Orden　reached　the　top　of　the　Eyes　of　Tor　Loman；　the　light　reappeared　in　the　heavens；　and　he　stared　in　horror　to　see　the　monstrous　wall　of　fire　that　Raj　Ahten's　beasts　had　hurled　against　the　castle。　The　skies　were　painted　with　strange　powdersgray　and　black；　the　yellow　of　sulfur；　something　red。
　The　vast；　seething　green　wave　of　fire　seemed　to　roll　through　the　sky　slowly　from　this　distance；　at　the　pace　he　lived。　For　what　seemed　agonizing　minutes；　Orden　crawled　across　the　stone　steps。
　As　he　crawled；　Orden　wondered　why　Raj　Ahten　had　e　here。　Certainly　not　to　see　down　into　Longmont。　The　view　here　offered　nothing。
　No；　something　else　had　alarmed　the　Wolf　Lord。
　So　King　Orden　gazed　east；　saw　dust　rising　from　the　plains　as　if　they　were　aflame；　the　light　shining　from　shields。　An　army　marching　from　Castle　Groverman。
　Despite　the　immense　dust　cloud；　it　could　not　have　been　a　large　army；　Orden　knew。　Thirty　thousand　moners　e　to　his　aid；　marching　across　a　dusty　heath；　nothing　more。　They'd　be　no　match　for　Raj　Ahten's　Invincibles。
　But　Orden　knew　his　son　marched　at　the　head　of　that　army。　Certainly　Gaborn　would　not　be　fool　enough　to　attack　Raj　Ahten。　No；　this　had　to　be　a　ruse。　Orden　smiled。　Against　a　man　of　Raj　Ahten's　wit；　misinformation　could　be　a　potent　weapon。　His　son　was　fighting　as　best　he　could。
　In　almost　every　contest；　victory　came　to　those　who　refused　to　be　subdued。　The　Prince　was　not　cowed。
　A　good　ruse；　this；　Orden　told　himself。　Raj　Ahten　believes　Longmont　was　taken　days　ago。　Now　he　sees　an　army　e　to　smash　him。　King　Orden　only　hoped　the　ruse　would　work。
　And　a　darker　fear　crept　into　his　mind。　Certainly　Gaborn　would　not　attack；　would　he？　Would　he？
　Yes；　he　would；　Orden　realized。　If　he　believed　that　by　doing　so　he　could　save　his　father。　Didn't　I　tell　him　to　attack？　Orden　thought。　Didn't　I　tell　him　to　sweep　down　the　hill　with　his　knights？
　Orden　was　filled　with　dread。　This　was　a　boy　who　risked　himself　to　save　enemy　Dedicates。　This　was　a　boy　who　had　bee　an　Oath…Bound　Lord。
　Orden　didn't　doubt。　Though　he'd　die　in　the　attempt；　Gaborn　would　certainly　attack！
　At　that　moment；　the　great　wave　smashed　into　the　castle；　sent　pillars　of　fire　racing　into　the　sky。　Orden　could　see　the　horrible　damage　it　wrought；　men　flying　over　the　walls　like　flaming　birds；　could　see　giants　and　war　dogs；　Invincibles　and　archers　all　rushing　for　the　castle　gates。
　Yet　he　could　not　feel　the　stirring　within　that　marked　the　death　of　a　Dedicate。　None　of　the　Dedicates　in　his　serpent　ring　burned　in　that　flame。　Surely　the　castle　would　fall。
　Deep　inside；　he　felt　an　overpowering　urge。　Strike。　Strike　now　as　best　you　can！
　Orden　recognized　that　he　himself　might　hold　the　key　to　insuring　that　this　great　fiasco　of　a　battle　served　some　higher　purpose。　The　men　in　the　castle　were　joined　in　a　serpent　ring；　and　if　the　castle　were　overrun；　the　men　in　the　ring　would　all　be　forced　to　fight；　none　drawing　metabolism　from　the　others。　Eventually　one　of　them　would　die；　and　a　serpent　would　form。　But　who　would　be　at　its　head？
　Certainly　not　that　idiot　Dreis；　Orden　hoped。
　No。　It　had　to　be　Shostag。　Formidable；　venerable　in　his　own　crude　way。　A　fierce　warrior。
　Orden　crawled　to　the　edge　of　the　observatory；　looked　down。
　The　Eyes　of　Tor　Loman　perched　on　the　edge　of　a　promontory；　and　on　the　west　edge；　huge　rocks　thrust　up　from　the　ground。　There；　Orden　thought。　I　will　hit　there。
　He　threw　himself　from　the　tower。　It　was　time　for　the　serpent　ring　to　break。　Now　let　Shostag　the　Axeman　earn　his　lands　and　title。　Let　Gaborn　live　to　inherit　his　birthright。
　And　let　me　return　to　the　arms　of　the　woman　I　love。
　With　so　many　endowments　of　metabolism；　Orden　seemed　to　fall　slowly；　almost　as　if　he　floated　to　his　death。
　　
　Chapter　53
　THE　FLUTTERING
　　
　A　pillar　of　fire　rose　into　the　far…off　skies　like　a　mushroom；　and　the　sound　of　thunder　rumbled　over　the　plain。
　Yet　Gaborn　felt　something　far　more　disturbingdistantly；　distantly　he　felt　a　single　heartbeat　flutter　and　fail。
　It　tore　him；　dismayed　him；　far　more　than　that　flash　of　light　or　the　groaning　of　the　earth。
　He　swayed　i