tw.togreenangeltower2-第67章
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to the walls of the tent。 〃He is not real； like this cloth is real； like the ground is real beneath our feet。 But that does not mean he cannot do great evil。。。 and Utuk'ku and her servitors are more than real enough。〃
〃Forgive me if I seem stubborn；〃 Eolair said； 〃but I have heard much tonight that is still confused in my head。 If Ineluki cannot return； then why are the Norns so eager to hold Naglimund？〃
〃That is the question we must answer；〃 said Jiriki。 〃Perhaps they hope to use the A…Genay'asu to make their master's voice clearer。 Perhaps they intend to tap its force in some other way。 But it is clear that they want this place very much。 One of the Red Hand is here。〃
〃The Red Hand？ The Storm King's servants？〃
〃His greatest servants； since like him they have passed through death and into the outer realms。 But they cannot exist in this world without an immense expenditure of power by him every moment they are embodied； for they are almost as much of a deadly contradiction as he is。 That is why when one of them attacked us in our fastness at Jao e…Tinukai'i； we knew that the time had e to take up arms。 Ineluki and Utuk'ku must have been desperate to expend so much force to silence Amerasu。〃 He paused。 Eolair stared； bewildered by the unfamiliar names。 〃I will explain this to you at a later time； Count Eolair。〃 Jiriki stood。 〃I am sure you are weary； and we have talked much of your sleeping time away。〃
〃But this Red Hand creature is here？ Have you seen it？〃
Jiriki pointed at the campfire。 〃Do you have to touch the flames to know that the fire is hot？ He is here； and that is why we have not been able to overe their most important defenses； why we must instead knock down stone walls and struggle with sword and spear。 A large portion of Ineluki's power is burning down in the heart of Naglimund's keep。 But for all his might； the Storm King has limits。 He is spread thin 。。。 so there must be some reason he wishes this place to remain in the hands of the Hikeda'ya。〃
Eolair stood； too。 The blur of strange ideas and names had begun to tell on him： he was indeed feeling the need for sleep。 〃Perhaps the Norns' task is something to do with the Red Hand； then；〃 the count said。 〃Perhaps 。。。〃
Jiriki's smile was sad。 〃We have cursed you with our own plague of 'perhaps；' Count Eolair。 We had hoped you would give us answers； but instead we have weighed you down with questions。〃
〃I have not been free of them since old King John died。〃 He stifled a yawn。 〃So this is nothing strange。〃 He laughed。 〃What a thing to say！ It is maddeningly strange。 But not unusual。 Not in these times。〃
〃Not in these times；〃 agreed Jiriki。
Eolair bowed to Likimeya； then nodded a farewell to stone…faced Kuroyi before walking out into the cold wind。 Thoughts were buzzing in his head like flies； but he knew that nothing useful could be done about any of them。 Sleep was what he needed。 Perhaps； if he was lucky； he would sleep right through the remainder of this gods…cursed siege。
Maegwin had quietly left her tent while the weary guard…he seemed a sad and ragged sort to have received Heaven's favor； but who was she to question the gods？…gossiped by the fire with one of his fellows。 Now she stood in the deep shadows of a copse of trees； not a hundred cubits downslope from the tumbled walls of Naglimund。 Above her loomed the silhouette of the blocky stone keep。 As she stared at it； wind sifted snow across her boots。
Scadach； she thought。 It is the Hole in Heaven。 But what lies beyond？
She had seen the demons that had e swarming through from the Outer Darkness…horrible corpse…white things and shaggy； monstrous ogres…and had watched the gods and a few dead mortal heroes fight with them。 It was clear that the gods wished this wound in heaven's flesh healed so that no more evil could creep in。 For a while it had seemed that the gods would win easily。 Now she was not so sure。
There was 。。。 something inside Scadach。 Something dark and hideously strong； something that was empty as a flame is empty； but that nevertheless had a kind of brooding life。 She could feel it； could almost hear its dreadful ruminations； even the faint part of its brooding that licked against her mind cast her into despair。 But at the same time； there was something oddly familiar about the thoughts of whatever lurked in Scadach； whatever godsbane burned so angrily in the deeps。 She felt strangely drawn； as to a darkly fascinating sibling： that horrid something。。。 was much like her。
But what could that mean？ What a mad thought！ What could there be in that gnawing； spiteful heat that was anything like her； a mortal woman； king's daughter； slain beloved of the gods now privileged to ride with them across the fields of heaven？
Maegwin stood in the snow； silent； motionless； and let the inprehensible thoughts of the thing within Scadach wash over her。 She felt its turmoil。 Hatred； that was what it felt 。。。 and something more。 A hatred of the living coupled with an agonized longing for quietude and death。
She shivered。 How could heaven be so cold； even in this black outer fringe？
But I don't long for death！ Perhaps I did when I was alive； for a time。 But now that is behind me。 Because I died…I died…and the gods lifted me up to their country。 Why should f still feel that so strongly？ I am dead。 I am no longer afraid； as I once was。 I did my duty and brought the gods to save my people…no one can say I did not。 I no longer mourn for my brother and father。 I am dead； and nothing can harm me。 I have nothing in mon with that 。。。 thing out there in the darkness； beyond those walls of heaven…stone。
A sudden thought came to her。 But where is my father？ And where is Gwythinn？ Didn't they both die heroes？ Surely the gods have lifted them up and carried them away after their deaths； just as they did me。 And surely they would have demanded to be allowed to fight here； at the side of the Masters of Heaven。 Where are they？
Maegwin stood； dumbfounded。 She shivered again。 It was wretchedly cold here。 Were the gods playing some trick on her？ Was there still some test she had yet to pass before she could be reunited with her father and brother； with her long…dead mother Penemhwye？ How could that be？
Troubled； Maegwin turned and hurried back down the slope toward the lights of the other homeless souls。
More than five hundred pikemen of Metessa stood shoulder to shoulder in the neck of the Onestrine Pass； shields lifted above their heads so that it seemed some great centipede had lodged in the narrows between the cliffs。 The baron's men wore boiled leather cuirasses and iron helms； armor that was nicked and abraded from long use。 The Crane banner of their House waved above the serried pikes。
Nabbanai bowmen along the canyon walls filled the sky with a swarm of arrows。 Most bounced harmlessly from the shield roof； but some found their way through the locked shields。 Wherever a Metessan fell； though； his fellows drew together。
'The bowmen cannot move them！〃 Sludig enthused。 〃Varellan must charge！ By the Aedon； the baron's men are proud bastards！〃 He turned to Isgrimnur with a look of glee on his face。 〃Josua has chosen his allies well！〃
The duke nodded； but could not match Sludig's excitement。 As he stood with the elite of Josua's forces； what was now being called the prince's household guard…a curious phrase Isgrimnur thought； considering the prince had no house…the duke only wanted the fighting to end。 He was tired of war。
As he stared out across the narrowing valley； he was struck by how the ridged hills on both sides resembled a cage of ribs； the Anitullean Road its breastbone。 When Prester John had fought his way through to victory in this same Frasilis Valley more than fifty years before； it was said that so many had died that the bodies were not all buried for months。 The pass and the open land to the north of the valley had been littered with bones； the sky black with carrion birds for days。
And to what purpose？ Isgrimnur wondered。 Less than a man's lifetime has passed and here we are again； making more feasts for t
