uleg.thetombsofatuan-第13部分

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black　angle　of　the　passage；　waiting。
　　What　was　hardest　for　her　to　think；　perhaps；　was　that　she　was　looking　at　a　stranger。　She　had　very　seldom　seen　a　stranger。　It　seemed　to　her　that　this　must　be　one　of　the　wardens　…　no；　one　of　the　men　from　over　the　wall；　a　goatherd　or　guard；　a　slave　of　the　Place；　and　he　had　e　to　see　the　secrets　of　the　Nameless　Ones；　maybe　to　steal　something　from　the　Tombs。。。
　　To　steal　something。　To　rob　the　Dark　Powers。　Sacrilege：　the　word　came　slowly　into　Arha's　mind。　This　was　a　man；　and　no　man's　foot　must　ever　touch　the　soil　of　the　Tombs；　the　Holy　Place。　Yet　he　had　e　here　into　the　hollow　place　that　was　the　heart　of　the　Tombs。　He　had　entered　in。　He　had　made　light　where　light　was　forbidden；　where　it　had　never　been　since　world's　beginning。　Why　did　the　Nameless　Ones　not　strike　him　down？
　　He　was　standing　now　looking　down　at　the　rocky　floor；　which　was　cut　and　troubled。　One　could　see　that　it　had　been　opened　and　reclosed。　The　sour　sterile　clods　dug　up　for　the　graves　had　not　all　been　stamped　down　again。
　　Her　Masters　had　eaten　those　three。　Why　did　they　not　eat　this　one？　What　were　they　waiting　for？
　　For　their　hands　to　act；　for　their　tongue　to　speak。。。
　　〃Go！　Go！　Begone！〃　she　screamed　all　at　once　at　the　top　of　her　voice。　Great　echoes　shrilled　and　boomed　across　the　cavern；　seeming　to　blur　the　dark；　startled　face　that　turned　towards　her；　and；　for　one　moment；　across　the　shaken　splendor　of　the　cavern；　saw　her。　Then　the　light　was　gone。　All　splendor　gone。　Blind　dark；　and　silence。
　　Now　she　could　think　again。　She　was　released　from　the　spell　of　light。
　　He　must　have　e　in　by　the　red　rock　door；　the　Prisoners'　Door；　so　he　would　try　to　escape　by　it。　Light　and　silent　as　the　soft…winged　owls　she　ran　the　half…circuit　of　the　cavern　to　the　low　tunnel　that　led　to　the　door　which　opened　only　inwards。　She　stooped　there　at　the　entrance　of　the　tunnel。　There　was　no　draft　of　wind　from　outside；　he　had　not　left　the　door　fixed　open　behind　him。　It　was　shut；　and　if　he　was　in　the　tunnel；　he　was　trapped　there。
　　But　he　was　not　in　the　tunnel。　She　was　sure　of　it。　So　close；　in　that　cramped　place；　she　would　have　heard　his　breath；　felt　the　warmth　and　pulse　of　his　life　itself。　There　was　no　one　in　the　tunnel。　She　stood　erect；　and　listened。　Where　had　he　gone？
　　The　darkness　pressed　like　a　bandage　on　her　eyes。　To　have　seen　the　Undertomb　confused　her；　she　was　bewildered。　She　had　known　it　only　as　a　region　defined　by　hearing；　by　hand's　touch；　by　drifts　of　cool　air　in　the　dark；　a　vastness；　a　mystery；　never　to　be　seen。　She　had　seen　it；　and　the　mystery　had　given　place；　not　to　horror；　but　to　beauty；　a　mystery　deeper　even　than　that　of　the　dark。
　　She　went　slowly　forward　now；　unsure。　She　felt　her　way　to　the　left；　to　the　second　passageway；　the　one　that　led　into　the　Labyrinth。　There　she　paused　and　listened。
　　Her　ears　told　her　no　more　than　her　eyes。　But；　as　she　stood　with　one　hand　on　either　side　of　the　rock　archway；　she　felt　a　faint；　obscure　vibration　in　the　rock；　and　on　the　chill；　stale　air　was　the　trace　of　a　scent　that　did　not　belong　there：　the　smell　of　the　wild　sage　that　grew　on　the　desert　hills；　overhead；　under　the　open　sky。
　　Slow　and　quiet　she　moved　down　the　corridor；　following　her　nose。
　　After　perhaps　a　hundred　paces　she　heard　him。　He　was　almost　as　silent　as　she；　but　he　was　not　so　surefooted　in　the　dark。　She　heard　a　slight　scuffle；　as　if　he　bad　stumbled　on　the　uneven　floor　and　recovered　himself　at　once。　Nothing　else。　She　waited　awhile　and　then　went　slowly　on；　touching　her　right　hand　fingertips　very　lightly　to　the　wall。　At　last　a　rounded　bar　of　metal　came　under　them。　There　she　stopped；　and　felt　up　the　strip　of　iron　until；　almost　as　high　as　she　could　reach；　she　touched　a　projecting　handle　of　rough　iron。　This；　suddenly；　with　all　her　strength；　she　dragged　downward。
　　There　was　a　fearful　grinding　and　a　clash。　Blue　sparks　leapt　out　in　a　falling　shower。　Echoes　died　away；　quarreling；　down　the　corridor　behind　her。　She　put　out　her　hands　and　felt；　only　a　few　inches　before　her　face；　the　pocked　surface　of　an　iron　door。
　　She　drew　a　long　breath。
　　Returning　slowly　up　the　tunnel　to　the　Undertomb；　and　keeping　its　wall　to　her　right；　she　went　on　to　the　trapdoor　in　the　Hall　of　the　Throne。　She　did　not　hasten；　and　went　silently；　though　there　was　no　need　for　silence　any　more。　She　had　caught　her　thief。　The　door　that　he　had　gone　through　was　the　only　way　into　or　out　of　the　Labyrinth；　and　it　could　be　opened　only　from　the　outer　side。
　　He　was　down　there　now；　in　the　darkness　underground；　and　he　would　never　e　out　again。
　　Walking　slowly　and　erect；　she　went　past　the　Throne　into　the　long　columned　hall。　There；　where　one　bronze　bowl　on　the　high　tripod　brimmed　with　the　red　glow　of　charcoal；　she　turned　and　approached　the　seven　steps　that　led　up　to　the　Throne。
　　On　the　lowest　step　she　knelt；　and　bowed　her　forehead　down　to　the　cold；　dusty　stone；　littered　with　mouse　bones　dropped　by　the　hunting　owls。
　　〃Forgive　me　that　I　have　seen　Your　darkness　broken；〃　she　said；　not　speaking　the　words　aloud。　〃Forgive　me　that　I　have　seen　Your　tombs　violated。　You　will　be　avenged。　O　my　Masters；　death　will　deliver　him　to　you；　and　he　will　never　be　reborn！〃
　　Yet　even　as　she　prayed；　in　her　mind's　eye　she　saw　the　quivering　radiance　of　the　lighted　cavern；　life　in　the　place　of　death；　and　instead　of　terror　at　the　sacrilege　and　rage　against　the　thief；　she　thought　only　how　strange　it　was；　how　strange。。。
　　〃What　must　I　tell　Kossil？〃　she　asked　herself　as　she　came　out　into　the　blast　of　the　winter　wind　and　drew　her　cloak　about　her。　〃Nothing。　Not　yet。　I　am　mistress　of　the　Labyrinth。　This　is　no　business　of　the　Godking's。　I'll　tell　her　after　the　thief　is　dead；　perhaps。　How　must　I　kill　him？　I　should　make　Kossil　e　and　watch　him　die。　She's　fond　of　death。　What　is　it　he　was　seeking？　He　must　be　mad。　How　did　he　get　in？　Kossil　and　I　have　the　only　keys　to　the　red　rock　door　and　the　trapdoor。　He　must　have　e　by　the　red　rock　door。　Only　a　sorcerer　could　open　it。　A　sorcerer…〃
　　She　halted；　though　the　wind　almost　buffeted　her　off　her　feet。
　　〃He　is　a　sorcerer；　a　wizard　of　the　Inner　Lands；　seeking　the　amulet　of　Erreth…Akbe。〃
　　And　there　was　such　an　outrageous　glamor　in　this；　that　she　grew　warm　all　over；　even　in　that　icy　wind；　and　laughed　out　loud。　All　around　her　the　Place；　and　the　desert　around　it；　was　black　and　silent；　the　wind　keened；　there　were　no　lights　down　in　the　Big　House。　Thin；　invisible　snow　flicked　past　on　the　wind。
　　〃If　he　opened　the　red　rock　door　with　sorcery；　he　can　open　others。　He　can　escape。〃
　　This　thought　chilled　her　for　a　moment；　but　it　did　not　convince　her。　The　Nameless　Ones　had　let　him　enter。　Why　not？　He　could　not　do　any　harm。　What　harm　is　a　thief　who　can't　leave　the　scene　of　his　theft？　Spells　and　black　powers　he　must　have；　and　strong　ones　no　doubt；　since　he　had　got　that　far；　but　he　would　not　get　farther。　No　spell　cast　by　mortal　man　could　be　stronger　than　the　will　of　the　Nameless　Ones；　the　presences　in　the　Tombs；　the　Kings　whose　Throne　was　empty。
　　To　reassure　herself　of　this；　she　hastened　on　down　to　the　Small　House。　Manan　was　asleep　on　the　porch；　rolled　up　in　his　cloak　and　the　ratty　fur　blanket　that　was　his　winter　bed。　She　entered　quietly；　so　as　not　to　awaken　him；　and　without　lighting　any　lamp。　She　opened　a　little　locked　room；　a　mere　closet　at　the　end　of　the　hall。　She　struck　a　flint　spark　long　enough　to　find　a　certain　place　on　the　floor；　and　kneeling；　pried　up　one　tile。　A　bit　of　heavy；　dirty　cloth；　only　a　few　inches　square；　was　revealed　to　her　touch。　This　she　slipped　aside　noiselessly。　She　started　back；　for　a　ray　of　light　shot　upward；　straight　into　her　face。
　　After　a　moment；　very　cautiously；　she　looked　into　the　opening。　She　had　forgotten　that　he　carried　that　queer　light　on　his　staff。　She　had　been　expecting　at　most　to　hear　him；　down　there　in　the　dark。　She　had　forgotten　the　light；　but　he　was　where　she　had　expected　him　to　be：　right　beneath　the　spy　hole；　at　the　iron　door　that　blocked　his　escape　from　the　Labyrinth。
　　He　was　standing　there；　one　hand　on　his　hip；　the　other　holding　out　at　an　angle　the　wooden　staff；　as　tall　as　he　was；　to　the　tip　of　which　clung　the　soft　will…o'…the…wisp。　His　head；　which　she　looked　down　upon　from　some　six　feet　above。　was　cocked　a　bit　to　the　side。　His