uleg.thefarthestshore-第21节

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　　〃You　cannot；〃　Sparrowhawk　said；　his　voice　hard；　looking　up　at　Sopli　who　was　taller　than　he；　Sopli　had　stood　up；　holding　on　tight　to　the　mast；　to　look　at　the　land　ahead。　〃Don't　try；　Sopli。〃
　　The　Dyer　scowled　as　if　in　rage　or　pain。　He　looked　at　the　mountains　lying　blue　with　distance　before　the　boat；　over　the　heaving；　trembling　plain　of　water；　and　said；　〃You　took　me　as　guide。　This　is　the　place。　We　must　land　here。〃
　　〃We'll　land　in　any　case；　we　must　have　water；〃　said　Sparrowhawk；　and　went　to　the　tiller。　Sopli　sat　down　in　his　place　by　the　mast；　muttering。　Arren　heard　him　say；　〃I　swear　by　my　name。　By　my　name；〃　many　times；　and　each　time　he　said　it；　he　scowled　again　as　if　in　pain。
　　They　beat　closer　to　the　island　on　a　north　wind　and　coasted　it　seeking　a　bay　or　landing；　but　the　breakers　beat　thunderous　in　the　hot　sunlight　on　all　the　northern　shore。　Inland　green　mountains　stood　baking　in　that　light；　treeclothed　to　the　peaks。
　　Rounding　a　cape；　they　came　at　last　in　sight　of　a　deep　crescent　bay　with　white　sand　beaches。　Here　the　waves　came　in　quietly；　their　force　held　off　by　the　cape；　and　a　boat　might　land。　No　sign　of　human　life　was　visible　on　the　beach　or　in　the　forests　above　it；　they　had　not　seen　a　boat；　a　roof；　a　wisp　of　smoke。　The　light　breeze　dropped　as　soon　as　Lookfar　entered　the　bay。　It　was　still；　silent；　hot。　Arren　took　the　oars；　Sparrowhawk　steered。　The　creak　of　the　oars　in　the　locks　was　the　only　sound。　The　green　peaks　loomed　above　the　bay；　closing　in　around。　The　sun　laid　sheets　of　white…hot　light　on　the　water。　Arren　heard　the　blood　drumming　in　his　ears。　Sopli　had　left　the　safety　of　the　mast　and　crouched　in　the　prow；　holding　onto　the　gunwales；　staring　and　straining　forward　to　the　land。　Sparrowhawk's　dark；　scarred　face　shone　with　sweat　as　if　it　had　been　oiled；　his　glance　shifted　continually　from　the　low　breakers　to　the　foliage…screened　bluffs　above。
　　〃Now；〃　he　said　to　Arren　and　the　boat。　Arren　took　three　great　strokes　with　the　oars；　and　lightly　Lookfar　came　up　on　the　sand。　Sparrowhawk　leapt　out　to　push　the　boat　clear　up　on　the　last　impetus　of　the　waves。　As　he　put　his　hands　out　to　push；　he　stumbled　and　half…fell；　catching　himself　against　the　stern。　With　a　mighty　strain　he　dragged　the　boat　back　into　the　water　on　the　outward　wash　of　the　wave；　and　floundered　in　over　the　gunwale　as　she　hung　between　sea　and　shore。　〃Row！〃　he　gasped　out；　and　crouched　on　all　fours；　streaming　with　water　and　trying　to　get　his　breath。　He　was　holding　a　spear　…　a　bronze…headed　throwing　spear　two　feet　long。　Where　had　he　gotten　it？　Another　spear　appeared　as　Arren　hung　bewildered　on　the　oars；　it　struck　a　thwart　edgewise；　splintering　the　wood；　and　rebounded　end　over　end。　On　the　low　bluffs　over　the　beach；　under　the　trees；　figures　moved；　darting　and　crouching。　There　were　little　whistling；　whirring　noises　in　the　air。　Arren　suddenly　bent　his　head　between　his　shoulders；　bent　his　back；　and　rowed　with　powerful　strokes：　two　to　clear　the　shallows；　three　to　turn　the　boat；　and　away。
　　Sopli；　in　the　prow　of　the　boat　behind　Arren's　back；　began　to　shout。　Arren's　arms　were　seized　suddenly　so　that　the　oars　shot　up　out　of　the　water。　The　butt　of　one　struck　him　in　the　pit　of　the　stomach；　so　that　for　a　moment　he　was　blind　and　breathless。　〃Turn　back！　Turn　back！〃　Sopli　was　shouting。　The　boat　leapt　in　the　water　all　at　once；　and　rocked。　Arren　turned　as　soon　as　he　had　got　his　grip　on　the　oars　again；　furious。　Sopli　was　not　in　the　boat。
　　All　around　them　the　deep　water　of　the　bay　heaved　and　dazzled　in　the　sunlight。
　　Stupidly；　Arren　looked　behind　him　again；　then　at　Sparrowhawk　crouching　in　the　stern。　〃There；〃　Sparrowhawk　said；　pointing　alongside；　but　there　was　nothing；　only　the　sea　and　the　dazzle　of　the　sun。　A　spear　from　a　throwing…stick　fell　short　of　the　boat　by　a　few　yards；　entered　the　water　noiselessly；　and　vanished。　Arren　rowed　ten　or　twelve　hard　strokes；　then　backed　water　and　looked　once　more　at　Sparrowhawk。
　　Sparrowhawk's　hands　and　left　arm　were　bloody；　he　held　a　wad　of　sailcloth　to　his　shoulder。　The　bronze…headed　spear　lay　in　the　bottom　of　the　boat。　He　had　not　been　holding　it　when　Arren　first　saw　it；　it　had　been　standing　out　from　the　hollow　of　his　shoulder　where　the　point　had　gone　in。　He　was　scanning　the　water　between　them　and　the　white　beach；　where　some　tiny　figures　hopped　and　wavered　in　the　heat…glare。　At　last　he　said；　〃Go　on。〃
　　〃Sopli…〃
　　〃He　never　came　up。〃
　　〃Is　he　drowned？〃　Arren　asked；　unbelieving。
　　Sparrowhawk　nodded。
　　Arren　rowed　on　until　the　beach　was　only　a　white　line　beneath　the　forests　and　the　great　green　peaks。　Sparrowhawk　sat　by　the　tiller；　holding　the　wad　of　cloth　to　his　shoulder　but　paying　no　heed　to　it。
　　〃Did　a　spear　hit　him？〃
　　〃He　jumped。〃
　　〃But　he…　he　couldn't　swim。　He　was　afraid　of　the　water！〃
　　Aye。　Mortally　afraid。　He　wanted。。。　He　wanted　to　e　to　land。
　　〃Why　did　they　attack　us？　Who　are　they？〃
　　〃They　must　have　thought　us　enemies。　Will　you。。。　give　me　a　hand　with　this　a　moment？〃　Arren　saw　then　that　the　cloth　he　held　pressed　against　his　shoulder　was　soaked　and　vivid。
　　The　spear　had　struck　between　the　shoulder…joint　and　collarbone；　tearing　one　of　the　great　veins；　so　that　it　bled　heavily。　Under　Sparrowhawk's　direction；　Arren　tore　strips　from　a　linen　shirt　and　made　shift　to　bandage　the　wound。　Sparrowhawk　asked　him　for　the　spear；　and　when　Arren　laid　it　on　his　knees　he　put　his　right　hand　over　the　blade；　long　and　narrow　like　a　willow　leaf；　of　crudely　hammered　bronze；　he　made　as　if　to　speak；　but　after　a　minute　he　shook　his　head。　〃I　have　no　strength　for　spells；〃　he　said。　〃Later。　It　will　be　all　right。　Can　you　get　us　out　of　this　bay；　Arren？〃
　　Silently　the　boy　returned　to　the　oars。　He　bent　his　back　to　the　work；　and　soon；　for　there　was　strength　in　his　smooth；　lithe　frame；　he　brought　Lookfar　out　of　the　crescent　bay　into　open　water。　The　long　noon　calm　of　the　Reach　lay　on　the　sea。　The　sail　hung　slack。　The　sun　glared　through　a　veil　of　haze；　and　the　green　peaks　seemed　to　shake　and　throb　in　the　great　heat。　Sparrowhawk　had　stretched　out　in　the　bottom　of　the　boat；　his　head　propped　against　the　thwart　by　the　tiller；　he　lay　still；　lips　and　eyelids　half…parted。　Arren　did　not　like　to　look　at　his　face；　but　stared　over　the　boat's　stern。　Heat…haze　wavered　above　the　water；　as　if　veils　of　cobweb　were　spun　out　over　the　sky。　His　arms　trembled　with　fatigue；　but　he　rowed　on。
　　〃Where　are　you　taking　us？〃　Sparrowhawk　asked　hoarsely；　sitting　up　a　little。　Turning；　Arren　saw　the　crescent　bay　curving　its　green　arms　about　the　boat　once　more；　the　white　line　of　the　beach　ahead；　and　the　mountains　gathered　in　the　air　above。　He　had　turned　the　boat　around　without　knowing　it。
　　〃I　can't　row　any　more；〃　he　said；　stowing　the　oars　and　going　to　crouch　in　the　prow。　He　kept　thinking　Sopli　was　behind　him　in　the　boat；　by　the　mast。　They　had　been　many　days　together；　and　his　death　had　been　too　sudden；　too　reasonless　to　be　understood。　Nothing　was　to　be　understood。
　　The　boat　hung　swaying　on　the　water；　the　sail　slack　on　the　spar。　The　tide；　beginning　to　enter　the　bay；　turned　Lookfar　slowly　broadside　to　the　current　and　pushed　her　by　little　nudges　in　and　in；　toward　the　distant　white　line　of　the　beach。
　　〃Lookfar；〃　the　mage　said　caressingly；　and　a　word　or　two　in　the　Old　Speech；　and　softly　the　boat　rocked　and　nosed　outward　and　slipped　over　the　blazing　sea　away　from　the　arms　of　the　bay。
　　But　as　slowly　and　softly；　in　less　than　an　hour；　she　ceased　to　make　way；　and　again　the　sail　hung　slack。　Arren　looked　back　in　the　boat　and　saw　his　panion　lying　as　before；　but　his　head　had　dropped　back　a　little；　and　his　eyes　were　closed。
　　All　this　while　Arren　had　felt　a　heavy；　sickly　horror；　which　grew　on　him　and　held　him　from　action　as　if　winding　his　body　and　mind　in　fine　threads。　No　courage　rose　up　in　him　to　fight　against　the　fear；　only　a　kind　of　dull　resentment　against　his　lot。
　　He　should　not　let　the　boat　drift　here　near　the　rocky　shores　of　a　land　whose　people　attacked　strangers；　this　was　clear　to　his　mind；　but　it　did　not　mean　much。　What　was　he　to　do　instead？　Row　the　boat　back　to　Roke？　He　was　lost；　utterly　lost　beyond　hope；　in　the　vastness　of　the　Reach。　He　could　never　bring　the　boat　back　through　those　weeks　of　voyage　to　any　friendly　land。　Only　with　the　mage's　guidance　could　be　do　it；　and　Sparrowhawk　was　hurt　and　helpless；　as　suddenly　and　meaninglessly　as　Sopli　was　dead。　His　face　was　changed；　lax…featured　and　yellowish；　he　might　be　dying。　Arren　thought　that　he　should　go　move　him　under　the　awning　to　keep　the　sunlight　off　him；　and　give　him　water；　men　who　had　lost　blood　needed　to　drink。　But　they　had　been　short　of　water　for　days；　the　barrel　was　almost　empty。　What　did　it　matter？　There　was　no　good　in　anything；　no　use。　The　luck　had　run　out。
　　Hours　went　by；　the　sun　beat　down；　and　the　greyish　heat　wrapped　Arren　round。　He　sat　unmoving。
　　A　breath　of　cool　passed　across　his　forehead。　He　looked　up。　It　was　evening：　the　sun　was　down；　the　west　dull　red。　Lookfar　moved　slowly　under　a　mild　breeze　from　the　east；　skirting　the　steep；　wooded　shores　of　Obehol。
　　Arren　went　back　in　the　boat　and　looked　after　his　panion；　arranging　him　a　pallet　under　the　awning　and　giving　him　water　to　drink。　He　did　these　things　hurriedly；　keeping　his　eyes　from　the　bandage；　which　was　in　need　of　changing；　for　the　wound　had　not