tw.togreenangeltower2-第136节

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。　He　thought　he　could　feel　Bright…Nail　stir；　like　a　hunting　beast　catching　the　scent　of　blood。
　　　　　　　He　looked　once　more　around　the　refectory…taking　note；　however　distractedly；　of　the　damage　visited　upon　his　home…then　moved　as　quietly　as　he　could　toward　the　eastern　portico。　As　he　approached　the　door；　he　saw　that　it　sagged　on　broken　hinges　and　he　despaired　of　opening　it　without　noise；　but　as　he　came　closer　and　heard　the　tumult　outside　he　realized　no　one　would　hear　him　even　if　he　were　to　kick　it　loose。　The　menacing　song　of　the　wind　had　grown；　but　the　shouting　voices　and　other　noises　had　bee　louder　still；　until　it　sounded　as　if　a　great　battle　were　being　fought　just　outside　the　refectory　door。
　　　　　　　He　crouched　and　placed　his　eye　against　the　wedge　of　light　where　the　door　had　edged　free　from　its　frame。　It　was　hard　at　first　to　make　sense　of　what　he　saw。
　　　　　　　There　was　a　battle　just　outside；　or　at　least　great　knots　of　armored　men　were　surging　back　and　forth　across　the　bailey。　The　chaos　was　abetted　by　the　snows　which　covered　the　muddy　ground　and　blew　through　the　air　like　smoke；　making　everything　murky；　what　sky　he　could　see　was　full　of　streaming　black　clouds。
Lightning　flashed；　turning　all　to　brilliant　noon　one　instant；　then；　on　its　disappearance；　making　it　seem　for　a　moment　as　though　all　light　had　fled。　It　looked　like　a　battle　at　the　gates　of　Hell；　a　madness　of　shrieking　faces　and　terrified　horses；　and　it　raged　like　an　angry　sea　all　across　the　snow…smothered　bailey。　Trying　to　make　his　way　through　such　madness　would　be　choosing　to　die。
　　　　　　　On　the　far　side；　hopelessly　out　of　Simon's　reach。　Green　Angel　Tower　stood　with　its　ivory　spire　wreathed　in　thunderheads。　Lightning　burst　across　the　sky　once　more；　a　jagged；　flaring　chain　that　seemed　to　encircle　the　tower。　Thunder　shook　his　bones。　Staring　upward　in　that　instant　of　savage　illumination；　Simon　saw　a　pale　face　gazing　from　the　great　bellchamber　windows。

31
The　False　Messenger

　　　　　　　Miriamele　was　staggeringly　exhausted。　She　could　not　imagine　how　Binabik；　with　his　shorter　legs；　could　still　be　moving。　She　was　certain　they　had　been　climbing　for　more　than　an　hour。　How　could　there　be　so　many　steps？　Surely　by　this　time　they　could　have　reached　the　Hayholt　if　they　had　started　from　the　center　of　the　earth。
　　　　　　　Panting；　she　stopped　to　wipe　sweat　from　her　face　and　look　back。　Cadrach　was　two　flights　down；　barely　visible　in　the　torchlight。　The　monk　would　not　give　up；　Miriamele　had　to　credit　him　for　that。
　　　　　　　〃Binabik；　wait；〃　she　called。　〃If　I　。。。　if　I　go　another　step　。。。　my　legs　will　fall　off。〃
　　　　　　　The　troll　paused；　then　turned　and　came　back　down。　He　handed　her　his　water　skin；　and　as　she　drank；　he　said：　〃We　have　almost　reached　to　the　castle。　1　can　feel　the　changing　of　air。〃
Miriamele　slumped　down　onto　the　wide　smooth　step；　discarding　the　bow　and　pack　she　had　been　tempted　to　toss　away　so　many　times　in　the　past　hour。　〃What　air？　I　haven't　had　any　in　my　lungs　since　I　don't　remember　when。〃
　　　　　　　Binabik　looked　at　her　solicitously。　〃Mountain…clambering　is　what　we　Qanuc　learn　before　we　can　talk。　You　have　been　doing　well　to　stay　with　me。〃
　　　　　　　Miramele　did　not　bother　with　a　reply。　A　few　moments　later　Cadrach　staggered　up　and　toppled　against　the　wall；　then　slid　down　onto　the　step　an　arm's　length　from　her。　His　pale　face　was　moist；　his　eyes　remote。　She　watched　him　fight　for　breath；　and　after　a　moment's　hesitation　offered　him　the　water　skin。　He　took　it　without　looking　up。　
　　　　　　　〃Rest；　both　of　you；〃　said　Binabik　〃Then　after　will　be　time　for　the　last　climbing。　We　are　near；　very　near。〃
〃Near　to　what？〃　Miriamele　took　the　water　skin　from　Cadrach's　unresponsive　fingers　and　had　another　drink；　then　passed　it　back　to　the　troll。　〃Binabik；　I　have　been　trying　to　find　the　breath　to　ask　you…what　is　happening？　Something　the　dwarrows　said；　something　you　thought　of。。。〃　She　held　his　eye；　although　she　could　see　he　wished　to　look　away。　〃What　is　it？〃
　　　　　　　The　troll　fell　silent；　but　he　cocked　his　head　as　though　listening。　There　was　nothing　to　be　heard　in　the　stairwell　except　the　rough　noise　of　their　breathing。　He　sat　down　beside　her。
〃It　was　indeed　something　the　dwarrows　were　saying…　although　that　alone　would　not　have　been　making　my　thoughts　leap　so。〃　Binabik　stared　at　his　feet。　〃There　are　other　thoughts　I　have；　too。　Something　I　have　been　long　pondering…the　'false　messenger'　of　Simon's　dream。〃
〃In　Geloe's　house；〃　Miriamele　whispered；　remembering。
〃And　he　was　not　the　only　one。　A　message　we　were　receiving　in　the　White　Waste；　sparrow…carried…which　now　it　is　my　thinking　was　sent　by　Dinivan　of　Nabban；　since　Isgrimnur　later　heard　him　speak　it　as　well…also　held　a　warning　against　false　messengers。〃
　　　　　　　Miramele　felt　a　pang　at　the　memory　of　Dinivan。　He　had　been　so　kind；　so　clever…yet　he　had　been　broken　like　a　kindling…stick　by　Pryrates。　Isgrimnur's　tale　of　the　horrors　he　had　seen　in　the　Sancellan　Aedonitis　still　colored　her　nightmares。
　　　　　　　A　sudden　thought　came　to　her：　she　had　fought　Cadrach　when　he　tried　to　take　her　out　of　the　Sancellan；　resisted　him　and　called　him　a　liar　until　he　was　forced　to　strike　her　senseless　and　carry　her　out…but　he　had；　in　fact；　told　her　the　truth。　Why　hadn't　he　simply　run　and　saved　himself；　leaving　her　to　make　her　own　way？
　　　　　　　She　turned　to　look　at　him。　The　monk　had　still　not　caught　his　breath；　he　lay　curled　against　the　wall；　his　face　blank　as　a　wax　doll's。
　　　　　　　〃So　long　have　I　wondered　who　could　be　such　a　messenger；〃　Binabik　continued。　〃Many　are　the　messengers　who　have　e　to　Josua；　and　also　to　Simon　and　Dinivan；　the　two　who　somehow　had　these　warnings。　Which　messenger　was　meant？〃
　　　　　　　〃And　now　you　think　you　know？〃
Binabik　started　to　answer；　then　took　a　breath。　〃Let　me　tell　you　what　I　am　thinking。　Perhaps　you　will　be　finding　some　flaw…you　too；　Cadrach。　I　have　hope　only　that　I　am　wrong。〃　He　knitted　the　fingers　of　his　small　hands　together　and　frowned。　〃The　dwarrow…folk　say　the　Great　Swords　were　all　having　their　forging　with　the　help　of　Words　of　Making…words　that　the　dwarrows　say　are　used　for　pushing　back　the　rules　of　the　world。〃
〃I　didn't　understand　that。〃
　　　　　　　〃I　will　try　for　explaining；〃　Binabik　said　unhappily。　〃But　truly　we　are　having　little　time　to　talk。〃
　　　　　　　〃When　I've　caught　my　breath；　you　can　talk　while　we're　climbing。〃
　　　　　　　The　troll　nodded。　〃Then　here　is　my　explaining　about　the　world's　rules。　One　is　that　things　want　to　fall　downward。〃　He　put　the　stopper　on　the　water　skin　and　then　dropped　it；　illustrating　his　point。　〃If　some　other　kind　of　falling　is　wanted…to　make　this　fall　upward；　that　might　be…that　is　one　thing　that　the　Art　is　being　used　for。　To　make　something　that　is　going　against　the　world's　rules。〃
　　　　　　　Miriamele　nodded。　Beside　her；　Cadrach　had　raised　his　head　as　though　listening；　but　he　still　stared　out　at　the　opposite　wall。
　　　　　　　〃But　if　some　rule　must　be　broken　for　a　long　time；　then　the　Art　used　must　have　great　powerfulness；　just　as　lifting　a　heavy　thing　once　and　then　dropping　it　is　easier　than　the　holding　of　it　in　the　air　for　hours。　For　such　tasks；　the　dwarrows　and　others　who　were　practicing　the　Art　used　。。。〃
〃。。。　The　Words　of　Making；〃　Miriamele　finished　for　him。　〃And　they　used　them　when　the　Great　Swords　were　forged。〃
　　　　　　　Binabik　bobbed　his　head。　〃They　did　that　because　all　the　Great　Swords　were　forged　of　things　that　had　no　place　in　Osten　Ard；　things　which　were　resisting　the　Arts　used　for　creating　a　magical　weapon。　This　needed　overing；　but　not　just　for　a　moment。　Forever　was　the　time　that　these　resisting　forces　must　be　subdued；　so　the　most　powerful　Words　of　Making　were　being　used。〃　He　spoke　slowly　now。　〃So　those　blades；　it　is　my　thinking；　are　like　the　pulled…back　arm　of　the　giant　sling…stones　your　people　use　to　attack　walled　cities…balanced　so　that　one　touch　sends　a　vast　rock　flying　like　a　tiny；　tiny　bird。　Such　great　power　is　being　restrained　in　each　one　of　those　swords…who　knows　what　the　power　of　three　brought　together　may　be　doing？〃
　　　　　　　〃But　that's　good；〃　said　Miriamele；　confused。　〃Isn't　that　what　we　need…the　strength　to　overe　the　Storm　King？〃　She　looked　at　Binabik's　sorrowful　face　and　her　heart　grew　heavy。　〃Is　there　some　reason　we　can't　use　it？〃
　　　　　　　Cadrach　shifted　against　the　wall；　turning　his　gaze　at　last　on　the　troll。　A　gleam　of　interest　had　kindled　in　his　eyes。　〃But　who　will　use　it？〃　the　monk　asked。　〃That　is　the　question；　is　it　not？〃
Binabik　nodded　unhappily。　〃That　is　indeed　what　I　am　fearing。〃　He　turned　to　the　princess。　〃Miriamele；　why　is　Thorn　being　brought　here？　Why　are　Josua　and　others　searching　for　Bright…Nail？〃
〃To　use　against　the　Storm　King；〃　Miriamele　replied。　She　still　did　not　see　where　the　troll's　questions　were　leading；　but　Cadrach　evidently　did。　A　grim　half…smile；　as　of　reluctant　admiration；　curled　the　monk's　lips。　She　wondered　who　the　admiration　was　for。
　　　　　　　〃But　why？〃　asked　the　troll。　〃What　was　telling　us　to　use　them　against　our　enemy？　This　is　not　something　for　tricking　you；　Miriamele…it　is　what　I　myself　have　been　worrying　until　my　head　feels　full　of　sharp　stones。〃
　　　　　　　〃Because　。。。〃　For　a　moment；　she　could　not　remember。　〃Because　of　the　rhyme。　The　rhyme　that　told　how　to　drive　the　Storm　King　away。〃
　　　　　　　〃　When　frost　doth　grow　on　Claves'　bell　。。。〃　Binabik　recited；　his　voice　ringing　s