df.therunelords-第89部分

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uy　cheap　and　sell　high。
　〃Instead；　Grandfather　sent　to　the　hearthmaster　at　the　Room　of　Feet　and　arranged　for　a　caravan　to　transport　the　wool　at　a　fair　price；　cheaper　than　the　villagers　had　paid　before。
　〃He　then　sent　to　the　highman　and　told　him　all　that　he　had　done。　He　begged　the　highman　to　sell　his　wool　to　the　poor　at　its　normal　price；　so　that　they　would　not　go　cold　through　the　winter。〃
　Iome　listened　to　the　tale　somewhat　in　awe；　for　she'd　often　thought　Orden's　line　to　be　hard；　cold　men。　Perhaps　it　was　only　Gaborn's　father。　Perhaps　he'd　grown　cold；　after　his　own　father's　bad　end。
　〃I　see；〃　Iome　said。　〃So　your　grandfather　won　the　love　of　the　poor。〃
　〃And　the　respect　of　the　highman　and　his　village；〃　Gaborn　said。　〃That　is　the　kind　of　Runelord　I　would　want　to　be；　one　who　can　win　a　man's　heart　and　his　love。　That　is　my　hope。　It　is　harder　to　storm　a　heart　than　to　storm　a　castle。　It　is　harder　to　hold　a　man's　trust　than　to　hold　any　land。　That　is　why　I　studied　in　the　Room　of　the　Heart。〃
　〃I　see；〃　Iome　said。　〃And　I　am　sorry。〃
　〃For　what？〃　Gaborn　asked。
　〃That　I　ever　said　I　would　turn　you　down；　if　you　asked　me　to　marry　you。〃　She　smiled　at　him；　and　spoke　teasingly；　but　realized　it　was　true。　Gaborn　was　a　strange　and　wondrous　young　man；　and　in　the　past　day　she　had　begun　to　recognize　that　he　was　much　more　than　he　seemed。　She　feared　that　at　this　rate；　she'd　fall　in　love　with　him　so　fiercely　by　the　end　of　another　day　that　she'd　never　want　to　separate　from　him　again。
　When　the　horses　finished　watering；　Gaborn　loped　them　for　a　while。
　The　magnificent　crevasse　at　Harm's　Gorge　opened　suddenlya　deep　rent　where　a　river　rushed；　and　the　trail　they　took　snaked　around　its　edge。　According　to　legend；　the　duskins　had　created　this　place；　had　broken　the　pillars　that　held　the　Overworld。
　They　let　their　animals　creep　along　a　narrow　trail　beside　the　ledge；　and　Iome　looked　at　the　pillars　of　gray　and　white　stone　that　rose　up　from　the　canyon；　a　marvel　to　see。　She　wondered　if　these　were　the　pillars　of　legend　or　merely　the　roots　of　mountains　long　since　eroded　away。
　Beside　the　steep　sides　of　the　canyon；　huge　trees　clung；　looking　like　bristles　on　a　horse　brush。　A　mile　to　the　north；　Harm's　River　churned　in　a　waterfall　and　fell　far　into　the　chasm；　but　Iome　could　not　see　where　the　waters　landed；　for　the　canyon　was　so　deep　that　its　heart　was　lost　in　darkness；　and　no　sound　escaped　from　its　silent　depths。　Enormous　bats　wheeled　in　the　canyon；　down　where　the　shadows　filled　the　endless　chasm。
　If　a　person　fell　from　the　road；　it　was　said　that　you　could　hear　his　scream　for　a　month　until　the　sound　was　lost。
　They　took　the　narrow　pass　slowly；　the　idiot　King　Sylvarresta　walking　along　the　treacherous　edge　of　the　road；　often　stopping　to　peer　into　the　mists　so　far　below。
　　
　Chapter　39
　THE　GREEN　MAN
　　
　King　Sylvarresta　woke；　and　moved　through　a　world　of　dream。　The　doors　of　his　mind　were　closed。　He　did　not　remember　much。　No　words；　no　namesnot　even　his　own。　Yet　much　in　the　world　had　a　vague　familiarity。　The　horses；　trees。
　He　woke　to　see　a　great　light　in　the　sky；　the　color　of　gold　and　roses。　He　felt　certain　that　he　had　seen　it　somewhere　before。
　They　rode　slowly　on　a　narrow　road；　with　a　gray　earth　wall　to　his　left；　a　tremendous　precipice　to　his　right。　He　had　no　words　for　names；　nor　for　left　and　right。　Everything　carried　with　it　a　sense　of　discovery。　Far；　far　down；　he　could　see　only　misty　grayness。　Pine　trees　stood　far　below；　prickling　along　the　edges　of　rock。
　They　reached　a　narrow　bridge　carved　from　a　single　stone；　spanning　the　gorge。　The　bridge　curved　up　into　the　sky；　and　Sylvarresta　looked　down　into　the　gorge；　and　felt　as　if　he　hung　in　the　air；　just　so。
　He　did　not　recall　ever　having　been　here　before；　nor　having　felt　thus。
　A　few　dozen　soldiers　were　on　the　bridge；　guardsmen　in　dark…blue　surcoats；　wearing　the　face　of　the　green　man　on　their　shieldsa　knight　whose　face　was　surrounded　by　green　leaves。　The　young　man　and　woman　that　King　Sylvarresta　rode　with　greeted　these　soldiers　joyfully。　For　a　while；　the　soldiers　talked　to　the　young　man　of　their　plans　for　guarding　the　bridge；　then　the　young　man　bid　the　soldiers　farewell；　leaving　them　behind。
　King　Sylvarresta；　the　young　man；　and　the　young　woman　crossed　the　bridge；　rode　high　up　in　the　pine　woods　toward　a　mountain's　summit。　Then　the　horses　raced　under　the　trees。
　Huge　birds；　the　color　of　sky；　flitted　overhead；　calling　among　the　trees；　and　the　wind　came　fresh　and　cold。　Then　they　reached　a　mountaintop　and　rode　down　from　the　wooded　hills；　to　a　land　where　fields　of　crops　checkered　the　downs。
　A　castle　loomed　up　from　the　fields；　a　tall　edifice　of　gray　stone。　Horns　began　blowing　on　its　battlements　at　Sylvarresta's　approach；　and　a　dimly　remembered　pennant　flewthe　midnight　black　with　the　silver　boar。
　Men　stood　on　the　walls　of　the　castle　by　the　hundredsmen　with　bows　and　helms　with　wide　brims；　men　with　spears　and　hammers。　Other　men　wore　surcoats　with　the　image　of　the　green　man；　and　they　bore　bright　shields　that　shone　silver　like　water。
　The　men　all　cheered　and　waved　as　they　saw　him；　and　King　Sylvarresta　waved　back　and　cheered　himself；　until　the　huge　drawbridge　on　the　castle　opened；　and　they　entered。
　The　horses　walked　up　a　short；　steep　hill；　hooves　clanking　over　cobblestones。　Men　shouted　joyfully　at　him　and　clapped；　until　an　odd　look　came　over　their　faces。
　Some　pointed　at　him；　faces　pale　with　emotions　he　did　not　recognizehorror；　shock；　dismay。　They　shouted；　〃Dedicate！　He's　a　Dedicate！〃
　Then　his　horse　stopped　in　front　of　a　gray　building；　a　small　keep。　King　Sylvarresta　sat　for　a　moment　watching　a　reddish…brown　lizard；　as　long　as　Sylvarresta's　finger；　sun　itself　on　the　stones　in　the　rock　garden　beside　the　door。　He　could　not　recall　having　ever　seen　such　a　thing；　and　wondered。
　Then；　in　all　the　motion；　the　lizard　raced　up　the　side　of　the　building　and　over　its　gray　roof。　The　King　knew　it　was　alive　and　he　began　shouting　and　pointing。
　The　young　man　behind　King　Sylvarresta　had　dismounted；　and　now　he　helped　Sylvarresta　down　from　his　horse。
　Together　with　the　young　man　and　the　ugly　woman；　Sylvarresta　walked　under　the　eaves　of　the　building；　up　some　stairs。　He　felt　so　tired。　Walking　the　stairs　hurt　his　legs；　made　them　stretch　unfortably。　He　wanted　to　rest；　but　the　young　man　urged　him　forward；　into　a　room　thick　with　good　smells　of　cooked　food；　where　a　warm　fire　burned。
　A　pair　of　dogs　thumped　their　tails　as　King　Sylvarresta　approached；　so　that　at　first　he　did　not　really　notice　the　two　dozen　men　sitting　at　a　table；　eating　things　that　smelled　good。
　Then　he　looked　across　the　table　and　gasped。　There　sat　a　tall　man；　dark…haired　and　beautiful；　with　wide…set　blue　eyes　and　a　square　jaw　beneath　his　beard。
　Sylvarresta　knew　the　man；　knew　him　better　than　he　knew　anything　else。　A　green　man。　In　a　green　tunic；　with　a　shimmering　cape　of　green　samite。
　A　warm　sensation　filled　King　Sylvarresta's　heart；　an　overwhelming　joy。　He　recalled　the　man's　name。　〃Orden！〃
　At　King　Sylvarresta's　side；　the　young　man　shouted；　〃Father；　if　you　want　this　poor　man　dead；　at　least　have　the　decency　to　kill　him　yourself！〃
　King　Orden　half　rose　from　the　table；　stepped　hesitantly　forward。　He　glanced　back　and　forth　between　Sylvarresta　and　the　young　man。　His　eyes　looked　pained　and　angry；　and　his　hand　went　to　the　hilt　of　his　short　sword。　He　struggled　with　it；　as　if　he　could　not　draw　it；　brought　it　halfway　out。
　Then　in　rage　he　slammed　the　sword　back　into　its　sheath　and　staggered　forward；　threw　his　arms　around　Sylvarresta's　shoulders；　and　began　to　weep。
　King　Orden　sobbed；　〃My　friend；　my　friend；　what　have　we　done？　Forgive　me。　Forgive　me！〃
　Sylvarresta　let　King　Orden　hold　him　for　a　long　time；　wondering　what　was　wrong；　until　his　friend's　sobbing　lessened。
　　
　Chapter　40
　AN　ORDER　RESCINDED
　　
　Gaborn　had　never　seen　his　father　cry。　No　tears　of　sadness　escaped　him　when　Gaborn's　mother　and　infant　brother　were　murdered。　No　tears　of　joy　had　ever　glistened　in　King's　Orden's　eye　when　proposing　a　toast。
　Now；　as　Gaborn's　father　hugged　king　Sylvarresta；　he　wept　tears　of　joy　and　relief。
　King　Mendellas　Draken　Orden　cried　in　great　racking　sobs。　Orden's　sorrow　was　such　an　embarrassing　sight　that　the　two　dozen　lords　and　dignitaries　who　had　been　breakfasting　in　the　room　now　all　took　their　leave；　so　that　only　Iome；　King　Sylvarresta；　three　Days；　and　Gaborn　stood　in　the　room。
　For　the　barest　moment；　Gaborn　glanced　across　the　room；　saw　his　Days　and　felt　unfortable。　He　had　been　without　a　Days　for　nearly　half　a　week；　and　had　found　it　pleasant。
　Now　he　felt　like　an　ox　waiting　to　be　yoked。　The　small　fellow　nodded　politely；　and　Gaborn　knew　he　would　not　be　left　alone　again　for　a　while。　Another　Days　in　the　room　was　a　matronly　woman　in　her　forties；　a　woman　with　reddish　hair　going　silver。　She'd　have　been　Emmadine　Ot　Laren's　Days　when　the　Duchess　still　lived。　Now　she　nodded　a　greeting　at　Iome；　perhaps　all　the　formal　introduction　the　woman　would　ever　give；　yet　with　that　introduction　she　spoke　volumes：　I　am　assigned　to　you。
　So　the　Days　watched；　and　recorded。
　Gaborn　felt　grateful　that　the　Days　had　not　had　to　record　how　King　Orden　murdered　his　best　friend　in　his　hour　of　greatest　need。　Instead；　in　some　far　day　when　his　father　died　and　hi