srdonaldson.thepowerthatpreserves-第31节

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er；　and　Covenant's　wounded　face　held　a　look　of　intentness　or　frustration；　as　if　only　the　hurt　on　his　mouth　kept　him　from　plaining　impatiently。　In　that　look；　Triock　caught　a　glimpse　of　how　fragile　Covenant's　avowed　hatred　was。　It　did　not　appear　to　be　a　sustaining　Passion。　Triock　shivered。　A　foreboding　distrust　told　him　that　Thomas　Covenant's　resolve　or　passion　would　not　suffice。
　　　　But　he　clenched　the　thought　to　himself　as　he　returned　Foamfollower's　final　salute。　There　was　nothing　he　could　say。　And　a　moment　later；　the　Giant　arid　his　two　panions　had　disappeared　northward　between　the　houses。
　　　　Their　footmarks　filled　with　snow　and　faded　from　sight　until　Mithil　Stonedown　seemed　to　retain　no　record　of　their　passing。
　　　　Gruffly；　Triock　said　to　Yeurquin　and　Quirrel；　〃We　also　must　depart　We　must　leave　this　valley　while　the　snow　holds。〃
　　　　His　two　friends　nodded　without　question。　Their　faces　were　empty　of　expression；　they　looked　like　people　from　whom　bat　had　drained　all　other　considerations…carried　their　short　javelins　as　if　the　killing　of　enemies　were　their　sole　interest。　From　them；　Triock　drew　a　kind　of　serenity。　He　was　no　High　Wood　wielder　to　them；　no　bearer　of　burdens　which　would　have　bent　the　back　of　a　Lord。　He　was　only　a　man；　fighting　as　best　he　could　for　the　Land；　without　pretensions　to　wisdom　or　prophecy。　This　was　a　proper　role　for　a　Cattleherd　in　times　of　war；　and　he　weled　it。
　　　　Girded　by　the　readiness　of　his　panions；　he　went　to　the　other　elders　and　spent　a　short　time　discussing　with　them　Mithil　Stonedown's　precautions　against　future　attacks。　Then　he　left　his　home　to　them　and　went　out　into　the　snow　again　as　if　it　were　the　duty　of　his　life。
　　　　Flanked　by　Quirrel　and　Yeurquin；　he　left　the　village　by　the　northward　road；　and　crossed　without　stealth　the　stone　bridge　to　the　western　side　of　the　valley。　He　wanted　to　make　good　time　while　the　snow　cover　lasted；　so　he　stayed　on　the　easiest　route　until　he　neared　the　end　of　the　horn　of　mountains　which　formed　the　Mithil　valley's　western　wall。　At　that　point；　he　moved　off　the　road　and　started　up　into　the　foothills　that　clung　around　the　tip　of　the　horn。
　　　　He　intended　to　skirt　the　peaks　west　and　south　almost　as　far　as　Doom's　Retreat；　then　swing　northwest　toward　the　isolated　wedge　of　mountains　which　defended　the　South　Plains　from　Garroting　Deep。　He　could　not　take　the　straight　march　westward。　In　the　open　Plains；　he　would　certainly　encounter　marauders；　and　when　he　did；　he　would　have　to　flee　wherever　they　chased　him。　So　he　chose　the　rugged　terrain　of　the　foothills。　The　higher　ground　would　give　him　both　a　vantage　from　which　to　watch　for　enemies　and　a　cover　in　which　to　hide　from　them。
　　　　Yet；　as　he　plodded　upward　through　the　snow；　he　feared　the　choice　he　had　made。　In　the　foothills；　he　would　need　twenty　days　to　reach　those　mountains　beyond　Doom's　Retreat；　twenty　days　would　be　lost　before　he　could　begin　to　search　for　the　Unfettered　One。　In　that　time；　Covenant　and　his　panions　might　travel　all　the　way　to　Landsdrop　or　beyond。　Then　any　message　which　the　High　Lord　might　receive　would　be　too　late；　Covenant　would　be　beyond　any　hand　but　the　Gray　Slayer's。
　　　　With　that　dread　in　his　heart；　he　began　the　arduous　work　of　rounding　the　promontory。
　　　　He　and　his　rades　had　reached　the　first　lee　beyond　the　horn　when　the　snowfall　ended；　late　that　afternoon。　There　he　ordered　a　halt。　Instead　of　running　the　risk　of　being　seen…brown　against　the　gray　slush　of　the　snow　he　made　camp　and　let　the　long　weariness　which　had　been　his　constant　panion　since　he　first　began　fighting　lull　him　to　sleep。
　　　　Sometime　after　nightfall；　Yeurquin　awakened　him。　They　moved　on　again；　chewing　strips　of　dried　meat　to　keep　some　warmth　in　their　bones；　and　washing　the　salt　from　their　throats　with　mouthfuls　of　the　unsavory　snow。　In　the　cloud…locked　darkness；　they　made　slow　progress。　And　every　league　took　them　farther　from　the　hills　they　knew　most　intimately。　After　a　tortuous　and　unsuccessful　effort　to　scale　one　bluff　slope；　Triock　cursed　the　dreary　clasp　of　the　sky　and　turned　to　descend　toward　easier　ground　nearer　the　Plains。
　　　　For　most　of　the　night；　they　traveled　the　lower　hillsides；　but　when　they　felt　dawn　crouching　near；　they　climbed　again　to　regain　their　vantage。　They　pushed　upward　until　they　gained　a　high　ridge　from　which　they　could　see　a　long　stretch　of　the　way　they　had　e。　There　they　stopped。　During　the　gray　seepage　of　day　into　the　air；　they　opened　their　smokeless　graveling　pots　and　cooked　one　hot　meal。　When　they　were　done；　they　waited　until　the　wind　had　obliterated　all　their　tracks。　Then　they　set　watches；　slept。
　　　　They　followed　this　pattern　for　two　more　days…down　out　of　the　foothills　at　dusk；　long；　dark　night…trek；　back　toward　higher　ground　at　dawn　for　one　hot　meal　and　sleep…and　during　these　three　days；　they　saw　no　sign　of　any　life；　human　or　animal；　friend　or　foe；　anywhere；　they　were　alone　in　the　cold　gray　world　and　the　forlorn　wind。　Trudging　as　if　they　were　half　crippled　by　the　snow；　they　pressed　themselves　through　the　chapped　solitude　toward　Doom's　Retreat。　Aside　from　the　unpredictably　crisp　or　muffled　noises　of　their　own　movement；　they　heard　nothing　but　the　over…stressed　cracklings　of　the　ice　and　the　scrapings　of　the　wind；　fractured　in　their　ears　by　the　rumpled　hills。
　　　　But　in　the　dawn　of　the　fourth　day；　while　they　watched　the　wind　slowly　filling　the　footmarks　of　their　train；　they　saw　a　dull；　ugly；　yellow　movement　cross　one　rib　of　the　hills　below　them　and　e　hunting　upward　in　their　direction。　Triock　counted　ten　in　the　pack。
　　　　〃Kresh！〃　Yeurquin　spat　under　his　breath。
　　　　Quirrel　nodded。　〃And　hunting　us。　It　must　be　that　they　passed　downwind　of　us　during　the　night。〃
　　　　Triock　shivered。　The　fearsome　yellow　wolves　were　not　familiar　to　the　people　of　the　South　Plains；　until　the　last　few　years；　the　kresh　had　lived　primarily　in　the　regions　north　of　Ra；　foraging　into　the　North　Plains　when　they　could　not　get　Ranyhyn…flesh。　And　many　thousands　of　them　had　been　slain　in　the　great　battle　of　Doom's　Retreat。　Yet　they　soon　replenished　their　numbers；　and　now　scavenged　in　every　part　of　the　Land　where　the　hand　of　the　Lords　no　longer　held　sway。　Triock　had　never　had　to　fight　kresh；　but　he　had　seen　what　they　could　do。　A　year　ago；　one　huge　pack　had　annihilated　the　whole　population　of　Gleam　Stonedown；　in　the　crystal　hills　near　the　joining　of　the　Black　and　Mithil　rivers；　and　when　Triock　had　walked　through　the　deserted　village；　he　had　found　nothing　but　rent　clothes　and　splinters　of　bone。
　　　　〃Melenkurion！〃　he　breathed　as　he　gauged　the　speed　of　the　yellow　wolves。　〃We　must　climb　swiftly。〃
　　　　As　his　panions　slung　their　packs；　he　searched　the　terrain　ahead　for　an　escape　or　refuge。　But　despite　their　roughness；　the　hills　and　slopes　showed　nothing　which　the　wolves　might　find　impassable；　and　Triock　knew　of　no　defensible　caves　or　valleys　this　far　from　Mithil　Stonedown。
　　　　He　turned　upward。　With　Quirrel　and　Yeurquin　behind　him；　he　started　along　a　ridge　of　foothills　toward　the　mountains。
　　　　In　the　lee　of　the　ridge；　the　snow　was　not　thick。　They　made　good　speed　as　they　climbed　and　scrambled　toward　the　nearest　mountain　flank。　But　it　rose　sheerly　out　of　the　hillslope　ahead；　preventing　escape　in　that　direction。　When　the　western　valley　beside　the　ridge　rose　up　toward　the　mountain；　Triock　swung　to　the　right　and　ran　downward；　traversed　the　valley；　lunged　through　the　piled　snow　toward　the　higher　ground　on　the　far　side。
　　　　Before　he　and　his　panions　reached　the　top；　the　leading　kresh　crested　the　ridge　behind　them　and　gave　out　a　ferocious　howl。　The　sound　hit　Triock　between　his　shoulder　blades　like　the　flick　of　a　flail。　He　stopped；　whirled　to　see　the　wolves　rushing　like　yellow　death　along　the　ridge　hardly　five　hundred　yards　from　him。
　　　　The　sight　made　the　skin　of　his　scalp　crawl；　and　his　cold…stiff　cheeks　twitched　as　if　he　were　trying　to　bare　his　teeth　in　fear。　Without　a　word；　he　turned　and　attacked　the　climb　again；　threw　himself　through　the　snow　until　his　pulse　pounded　and　he　seemed　to　be　surrounded　by　his　own　gasping。
　　　　When　he　gained　the　ridge　top；　he　paused　long　enough　to　steady　his　gaze；　then　scanned　the　terrain　ahead。　Beyond　this　rib　of　the　foothills；　all　the　ground　in　a　wide　half…circle　reaching　to　the　very　edge　of　the　mountains　fell　steeply　away　into　a　deep　valley。　The　valley　was　roughly　conical　in　shape；　open　to　the　plains　only　through　a　sheer　ravine　on　its　north　side。　It　offered　no　hope　to　Triock's　searching　eyes。　But　clinging　to　the　mountain　edge　beyond　a　narrow　ledge　along　the　lip　of　the　valley　was　a　broken　pile　of　boulders；　the　remains　of　an　old　rockfall。　Triock's　attention　leaped　to　see　if　the　boulders　could　be　reached　along　the　ledge。
　　　　〃Go！〃　Quirrel　muttered　urgently。　〃I　will　hold　them　here。〃
　　　　〃Two　javelins　and　one　sword；〃　Triock　panted　in　response。　〃Then　they　will　outweigh　us　seven　to　two。　I　prefer　you　alive。''　Pointing；　he　said；　　〃We　must　cross　that　ledge　to　the　rocks。　There　we　can　strike　at　the　kresh　from　above。　e。〃
　　　　He　started　forward　again；　driving　his　tired　legs　as　fast　as　he　could；　and　Quirrel　and　Yeurquin　followed　on　his　heels。　When　they　reached　the　rough　ground　where　the　ridge　blended　into　the　cliff；　they　clambered　through　it　toward　the　ledge。
　　　　At　the　ledge；　Triock　hesitated。　The　lip　of　th