srdonaldson.theillearthwar-第107部分

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ring　walls　of　forest。　The　morning　sun　glittered　and　danced　off　the　dark　water　into　Covenant's　eyes…but　he　stared　at　it　without　blinking；　as　if　even　the　protective　reflex　of　his　eyelids　were　exhausted。
　And　after　that；　nothing　interfered　with　his　sightless　vision。　The　sodden　food　which　Bannor　offered　to　him　he　ate　automatically；　with　his　left　hand　concealed　between　his　thighs。　Midday　and　afternoon　passed　unrecognized；　and　when　evening　came　he　remained　crouched　on　his　seat；　clenching　his　ring　against　his　chest　as　if　to　protect　himself　from　some　final　stab　of　realization。
　Then；　as　dusk　thickened　about　him；　he　became　aware　of　the　music。　The　air　of　the　Deep　was　full　of　humming；　of　voiceless　song…an　eldritch　melody　which　seemed　to　arise　like　passion　from　the　faint　throats　of　all　the　leaves。　It　contrasted　sharply　with　the　distant；　storming　climacteric　of　Melenkurion　Skyweir；　the　song　of　violence　which　beat　and　shivered　out　of　Rivenrock。　Gradually；　he　raised　his　head　to　listen。　The　Deep　song　had　an　inflection　of　sufferance；　as　if　it　were　deliberately　restraining　a　potent　melodic　rage；　sparing　him。
　In　the　light　of　the　orcrest；　he　saw　that　Bannor　was　guiding　the　boat　toward　a　high；　treeless　hill　which　rose　against　the　night　sky　close　to　the　south　bank。　The　hill　was　desolate；　bereft　of　life；　as　if　its　capacity　to　nourish　even　the　hardiest　plants　had　been　irremediably　scalded　out　of　it。　Yet　it　seemed　to　be　the　source　of　the　Deep's　song。　The　melody　which　wafted　riverward　from　the　hill　sounded　like　a　host　of　gratified　furies。
　He　regarded　the　hill　incuriously。　He　had　no　strength　left　to　care　about　such　places。　All　his　waning　sanity　was　focused　on　the　sounds　of　battle　from　Melenkurion　Skyweir…and　on　the　grip　which　concealed　his　ring。　When　Bannor　secured　the　boat；　and　took　hold　of　his　right　elbow　to　help　him　ashore；　Covenant　leaned　on　the　Bloodguard　and　followed　his　guidance　woodenly。
　Bannor　went　to　the　barren　hill。　Without　question；　Covenant　began　to　struggle　up　it。
　Despite　his　weariness；　the　hill　impinged　upon　his　awareness。　He　could　feel　its　deadness　with　his　feet　as　if　he　were　shambling　up　n　corpse。　Yet　it　was　eager　death；　its　atmosphere　was　thick　with　the　slaughter　of　enemies。　Its　incarnate　hatred　made　his　joints　ache　as
　he　climbed　it。　He　began　to　sweat　and　tremble　as　if　he　were　carrying　the　weight　of　an　atrocity　on　his　shoulders。
　Then；　near　the　hilltop；　Bannor　stopped　him。　The　Bloodguard　lifted　the　orcrest。　In　its　light；　Covenant　saw　the　gibbet　beyond　the　crest　of　the　hill。　A　Giant　dangled　from　it。　And　between　him　and　the　gibbet　staring　at　him　as　if　he　were　a　concentrated　nightmare　…were　people；　people　whom　he　knew。
　Lord　Mhoram　stood　there　erect　in　his　battle…grimed　robe。　He　clasped　his　staff　in　his　left　hand；　and　his　lean　face　was　taut　with　vision。　Behind　him　were　Lord　Callindrill　and　two　Bloodguard。　The　Lord　had　a　dark　look　of　failure　in　his　soft　eyes。　Quaan　and　Amorine　were　with　him。　And　on　Mhoram's　right；　supported　by　the　Lord's　right　hand；　was　Hile　Troy。
　Troy　had　lost　his　sunglasses　and　headband。　The　eyeless　skin　of　his　skull　was　knotted　as　if　he　were　straining　to　see。　He　cocked　his　head；　moved　it　from　side　to　side　to　focus　his　hearing。　Covenant　understood　intuitively　that　Troy　had　lost　his　Land…born　sight。
　With　these　people　was　one　man　whom　Covenant　did　not　know。　He　was　the　singer…a　tall；　white…haired　man　with　glowing　silver　eyes；　who　hummed　to　himself　as　if　he　were　dewing　the　ground　with　melody。　Covenant　guessed　without　thinking　that　he　was　Caerroil　Wildwood；　the　Forestal　of　Garroting　Deep。
　Something　in　the　singer's　gaze…something　severe；　yet　oddly　respectful…recalled　the　Unbeliever　to　himself。　At　last　he　perceived　the　fear　in　the　faces　watching　him。　He　pushed　himself　away　from　Bannor's　support；　took　the　weight　of　all　his　burdens　on　his　own　shoulders。　For　a　moment；　he　met　the　trepidation　before　him　with　a　glare　so　intense　that　it　made　his　forehead　throb。　But　then；　as　he　was　about　to　speak；　a　fierce　detonation　from　Rivenrock　shook　his　bones；　knocked　him　o　balance。　When　he　reached　toward　Bannor；　he　exposed　the　shame　of　his　ring。
　Facing　Mhoram　and　Troy　as　squarely　as　he　could；　he　groaned；　〃She's　lost。　I　lost　her。〃　But　his　face　twisted；　and　the　words　came　brokenly　between　his　lips；　like　fragments　of　his　heart。
　His　utterance　seemed　to　pale　the　music；　making　the　muffled　clamor　from　Rivenrock　louder。　He　felt　every　blast　of　the　battle　like　an　internal　blow。　But　the　deadness　under　his　feet　became　more　and　more　vivid　to　him。　And　the　gibbeted　Giant　hung　before　him　with　an　immediacy　he　could　not　ignore。　He　began　to　realize　that　he　was　facing　people　who　had　survived　ordeals　of　their　own。　He　flinched；　but　did　not　fall；　when　their　protests　began…when　Troy　gave　a　strangled　cry；　〃Lost？　Lost？〃　and　Mhoram　asked　in　a　stricken　voice；　〃What　has　happened？〃
　Under　the　night　sky　on　the　lifeless　hilltop…lit　by　the　stars；　and　the　twin　gleams　of　Caerroil　Wildwood's　eyes；　and　the　orcrest　fire…Covenant　stood　braced　on　Bannor　like　a　crippled　witness　against　himself；　and　described　in　stumbling　sentences　High　Lord　Elena's　plight。　He　made　no　mention　of　the　focus　of　her　gaze；　her　consuming　passion。　But　he　told　all　the　rest…his　bargain；　Amok's　end；　the　summoning　of　Kevin　Landwaster；　Elena's　solitary　fall。　When　he　was　done；　he　was　answered　by　an　aghast　silence　that　echoed　in　his　ears　like　a　denunciation。
　〃I'm　sorry；〃　he　concluded　into　the　stillness。　Forcing　himself　to　drink　the　bitter　dregs　of　his　personal　inefficacy；　he　added；　〃I　loved　her。　I　would　have　saved　her　if　I　could。〃
　〃Loved　her？〃　Troy　murmured。　〃Alone？〃　His　voice　was　too　disjointed　to　register　the　degree　of　his　pain。
　Lord　Mhoram　abruptly　covered　his　eyes；　bowed　his　head。
　Quaan；　Amorine；　and　Callindrill　stood　together　as　if　they　could　not　endure　what　they　had　heard　alone。
　Another　blast　from　Rivenrock　shivered　the　air。　It　snatched　Mhoram's　head　up；　and　he　faced　Covenant　with　tears　streaming　down　his　cheeks。　〃It　is　as　I　have　said；〃　he　breathed　achingly。　〃Madness　is　not　the　only　danger　in　dreams。〃
　At　this；　Covenant's　face　twisted　again。　But　he　had　nothing　more　to　say；　even　the　release　of　assent　was　denied　him。　However；　Bannor　seemed　to　hear　something　different　in　the　Lord's　tone。　As　if　to　correct　an

　injustice；　he　went　to　Mhoram。　As　he　moved；　he　took　from　his　pack　Covenant's　marrowmeld　sculpture。
　He　handed　the　work　to　Mhoram。　〃The　High　Lord　gave　it　to　him　as　a　gift。〃
　Lord　Mhoram　gripped　the　bone　sculpture　tightly；　and　his　eyes　shone　with　sudden　prehension。　He　understood　the　bond　between　Elena　and　the　Ranyhyn；　he　understood　what　the　giving　of　such　a　gift　to　Covenant　meant。　A　gasp　of　weeping　swept　over　his　face。　But　when　it　passed；　it　left　his　self…mastery　intact。　His　crooked　lips　took　on　their　old　humane　angle。　When　he　turned　to　Covenant　again；　he　said　gently；　〃It　is　a　precious　gift。〃
　Bannor's　unexpected　support；　and　Mhoram's　gesture　of　conciliation；　touched　Covenant。　But　he　had　no　strength　to　spare　for　either　of　them。　His　gaze　was　fixed　on　Hile　Troy。
　The　Warmark　winced　eyelessly　under　repeated　blows　of　realization；　and　within　him　a　gale　brewed。　He　seemed　to　see　Elena　in　his　mind…remember　her；　taste　her　beauty；　savor　all　the　power　of　sight　which　she　had　taught　him。　He　seemed　to　see　her　useless；　solitary　end。　〃Lost？〃　he　panted　as　his　fury　grew。　〃Lost？　Alone？〃
　All　at　once；　he　erupted。　With　a　livid　howl；　he　raged　at　Covenant；　〃Do　you　call　that　love？！　Leper！　Unbeliever！〃…he　spat　the　words　as　if　they　were　the　most　damning　curses　he　knew…〃This　is　all　just　a　game　for　you！　Mental　tricks。　Excuses。　You're　a　leper！　A　moral　leper！　You're　too　selfish　to　love　anyone　but　yourself。　You　have　the　power　for　everything；　and　you　won't　use　it。　You　just　turned　your　back　on　her　when　she　needed　you。　You…despicable…leper！　Leper！〃　He　shouted　with　such　force　that　the　muscles　of　his　neck　corded。　The　veins　in　his　temples　bulged　and　throbbed　as　if　he　were　about　to　burst　with　execration。
　Covenant　felt　the　truth　of　the　accusation。　His　bargain　exposed　him　to　such　charges；　and　Troy　hit　the　heart　of　his　vulnerability　as　if　some　prophetic　insight　guided　his　blindness。　Covenant's　right　hand　twitched　in　a　futile　fending　motion。　But　his　left　clung　to　his　chest　as　if　to　localize　his　shame　in　that　one　place。
　When　Troy　paused　to　gather　himself　for　another　assault；　Covenant　said　weakly；　〃Unbelief　has　got　nothing　to　do　with　it。　She　was　my　daughter。〃
　〃What？！〃
　〃My　daughter。〃　Covenant　pronounced　it　like　an　indictment。　〃I　raped　Trell's　child。　Elena　was　his　granddaughter。〃
　〃Your　daughter。〃　Troy　was　too　stunned　to　shout。　Implications　like　glimpses　of　depravity　rocked　him。　He　groaned　as　if　Covenant's　crimes　were　so　multitudinous　that　he　could　not　hold　them　all　in　his　mind　at　one　time。
　Mhoram　spoke　to　him　carefully。　〃My　friend…this　is　the　knowledge　which　I　have　withheld　from　you。　The　withholding　gave　you　unintended　pain。　Please　pardon　me。　The　Council　feared　that　this　knowledge　would　cause　you　to　abominate　the　Unbeliever。〃
　〃Damn　right；〃　Troy　panted。　〃Damn　right。〃
　Suddenly；　his　accumulated　passion　burst　into　action。　Guided　by　a　sure　instinct；　he　reached　out　swiftly；　snatched　away　Lord　Mhoram's　staff。　He　spun　once　to　gain　momentum；　and　leveled　a　crushing　blow　with　the　staff　a