uleg.thetombsofatuan-第14部分

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p。　His　head；　which　she　looked　down　upon　from　some　six　feet　above。　was　cocked　a　bit　to　the　side。　His　clothes　were　those　of　any　winter　traveler　or　pilgrim；　a　short　heavy　cloak；　a　leather　tunic；　leggings　of　wool；　laced　sandals；　there　was　a　light　pack　on　his　back；　a　water　bottle　slung　from　it；　a　knife　sheathed　at　his　hip。　He　stood　there　still　as　a　statue；　easy　and　thoughtful。
　　Slowly　he　raised　his　staff　from　the　ground；　and　held　the　bright　tip　of　it　out　towards　the　door；　which　Arha　could　not　see　from　her　spy　hole。　The　light　changed；　growing　smaller　and　brighter；　an　intense　brilliance。　He　spoke　aloud。　The　language　he　spoke　was　strange　to　Arha；　but　stranger　to　her　than　the　words　was　the　voice；　deep　and　resonant。
　　The　light　on　the　staff　brightened；　flickered；　dimmed。　For　a　moment　it　died　quite　away；　and　she　could　not　see　him。
　　The　pale　violet　marshlight　reappeared；　steady；　and　she　saw　him　turn　away　from　the　door。　His　spell　of　opening　had　failed。　The　powers　that　held　the　lock　fast　on　that　door　were　stronger　than　any　magic　he　possessed。
　　He　looked　about　him；　as　if　thinking；　now　what？
　　The　tunnel　or　corridor　in　which　he　stood　was　about　five　feet　wide。　Its　roof　was　from　twelve　to　fifteen　feet　above　the　rough　rock　floor。　The　walls　here　were　of　dressed　stone；　laid　without　mortar　but　very　carefully　and　closely；　so　that　one　could　scarcely　slip　a　knife…tip　into　the　joints。　They　leaned　inward　increasingly　as　they　rose；　forming　a　vault。
　　There　was　nothing　else。
　　He　started　forward。　One　stride　took　him　out　of　Arha's　range　of　vision。　The　light　died　away。　She　was　about　to　replace　the　cloth　and　the　tile；　when　again　the　soft　shaft　of　light　rose　up　out　of　the　floor　before　her。　He　had　e　back　to　the　door。　Perhaps　he　had　realized　that　if　he　once　left　it　and　entered　the　maze；　he　was　not　very　likely　to　find　it　again。
　　He　spoke；　one　word　only；　in　a　low　voice。　〃Emenn；〃　he　said；　and　then　again；　louder；　〃Emenn！〃　And　the　iron　door　rattled　in　its　jambs；　and　low　echoes　rolled　down　the　vaulted　tunnel　like　thunder；　and　it　seemed　to　Arha　that　the　floor　beneath　her　shook。
　　But　the　door　stayed　fast。
　　He　laughed　then；　a　short　laugh；　that　of　a　man　who　thinks；　〃What　a　fool　I've　made　of　myself！〃　He　looked　around　the　walls　once　more；　and　as　he　glanced　upward　Arha　saw　the　smile　lingering　on　his　dark　face。　Then　he　sat　down；　unslung　his　pack；　got　out　a　piece　of　dry　bread；　and　munched　on　it。　He　unstopped　his　leather　bottle　of　water　and　shook　it；　it　looked　light　in　his　hand；　as　if　nearly　empty。　He　replaced　the　stopper　without　drinking。　He　put　the　pack　behind　him　for　a　pillow；　pulled　his　cloak　around　him；　and　lay　down。　His　staff　was　in　his　right　hand。　As　he　lay　back；　the　little　wisp　or　ball　of　light　floated　upward　from　the　staff　and　hung　dimly　behind　his　head；　a　few　feet　off　the　ground。　His　left　hand　was　on　his　breast；　holding　something　that　hung　from　a　heavy　chain　around　his　neck。　He　lay　there　quite　fortable；　legs　crossed　at　the　ankle；　his　gaze　wandered　across　the　spy　hole　and　away；　he　sighed　and　closed　his　eyes。　The　light　grew　slowly　dimmer。　He　slept。
　　The　clenched　hand　on　his　breast　relaxed　and　slipped　aside；　and　the　watcher　above　saw　then　what　talisman　he　wore　on　the　chain：　a　bit　of　rough　metal；　crescent…shaped；　it　seemed。
　
　　The　faint　glimmer　of　his　sorcery　died　away。　He　lay　in　silence　and　the　dark。
　　Arha　replaced　the　cloth　and　reset　the　tile　in　its　place；　rose　cautiously　and　slipped　away　to　her　room。　There　she　lay　long　awake　in　the　wind…loud　darkness；　seeing　always　before　her　the　crystal　radiance　that　had　shimmered　in　the　house　of　death；　the　soft　unburning　fire；　the　stones　of　the　tunnel　wall；　the　quiet　face　of　the　man　asleep。
　
　The　Man　Trap
　　
　　Next　day；　when　she　had　finished　with　her　duties　at　the　various　temples；　and　with　her　teaching　of　the　sacred　dances　to　the　novices；　she　slipped　away　to　the　Small　House　and；　darkening　the　room；　opened　the　spy　hole　and　peered　down　it。　There　was　no　light。　He　was　gone。　She　had　not　thought　he　would　stay　so　long　at　the　unavailing　door；　but　it　was　the　only　place　she　knew　to　look。　How　was　she　to　find　him　now　that　he　had　lost　himself？
　　The　tunnels　of　the　Labyrinth；　by　Thar's　account　and　her　own　experience；　extended　in　all　their　windings；　branchings；　spirals；　and　dead　ends；　for　more　than　twenty　miles。　The　blind　alley　that　lay　farthest　from　the　Tombs　was　not　much　more　than　a　mile　away　in　a　straight　line；　probably。　But　down　underground；　nothing　ran　straight。　All　the　tunnels　curved；　split；　rejoined；　branched；　interlaced；　looped；　traced　elaborate　routes　that　ended　where　they　began；　for　there　was　no　beginning；　and　no　end。　One　could　go；　and　go；　and　go；　and　still　get　nowhere；　for　there　was　nowhere　to　get　to。　There　was　no　center；　no　heart　of　the　maze。　And　once　the　door　was　locked；　there　was　no　end　to　it。　No　direction　was　right。
　　Though　the　ways　and　turnings　to　the　various　rooms　and　regions　were　firm　in　Arha's　memory；　even　she　had　taken　with　her　on　her　longer　explorations　a　ball　of　fine　yarn；　and　let　it　unravel　behind　her；　and　rewound　it　as　she　followed　it　returning。　For　if　one　of　the　turns　and　passages　that　must　be　counted　were　missed；　even　she　might　be　lost。　A　light　was　no　help；　for　there　were　no；　landmarks。　All　the　corridors；　all　the　doorways　and　openings；　were　alike。
　　He　might　have　gone　miles　by　now；　and　yet　not　be　forty　feet　from　the　door　where　he　had　entered。
　　She　went　to　the　Hall　of　the　Throne；　and　to　the　Twin　Gods'　temple；　and　to　the　cellar　under　the　kitchens；　and；　choosing　a　moment　when　she　was　alone；　looked　through　each　of　those　spy　holes　down　into　the　cold；　thick　dark。　When　night　came；　freezing　and　blazing　with　stars；　she　went　to　certain　places　on　the　Hill　and　raised　up　certain　stones；　cleared　away　the　earth；　peered　down　again；　and　saw　the　starless　darkness　underground。
　　He　was　there。　He　must　be　there。　Yet　he　had　escaped　her。　He　would　die　of　thirst　before　she　found　him。　She　would　have　to　send　Manan　into　the　maze　to　find　him；　once　she　was　sure　he　was　dead。　That　was　unbearable　to　think　of。　As　she　knelt　in　the　starlight　on　the　bitter　ground　of　the　Hill；　tears　of　rage　rose　in　her　eyes。
　　She　went　to　the　path　that　led　back　down　the　slope　to　the　temple　of　the　Godking。　The　columns　with　their　carved　capitals　shone　white　with　hoarfrost　in　the　starlight；　like　pillars　of　bone。　She　knocked　at　the　rear　door；　and　Kossil　let　her　in。
　　〃What　brings　my　mistress？〃　said　the　stout　woman；　cold　and　watchful。
　　〃Priestess；　there　is　a　man　within　the　Labyrinth。〃
　　Kossil　was　taken　off　guard；　for　once　something　had　occurred　that　she　did　not　expect。　She　stood　and　stared。　Her　eyes　seemed　to　swell　a　little。　It　flitted　across　Arha's　mind　that　Kossil　looked　very　like　Penthe　imitating　Kossil；　and　a　wild　laugh　rose　up　in　her；　was　repressed；　and　died　away。
　　〃A　man？　In　the　Labyrinth？〃
　　〃A　man；　a　stranger。〃　Then　as　Kossil　continued　to　look　at　her　with　disbelief；　she　added；　〃I　know　a　man　by　sight；　though　I　have　seen　few。〃
　　Kossil　disdained　her　irony。　〃How　came　a　man　there？〃
　　〃By　witchcraft；　I　think。　His　skin　is　dark；　perhaps　he　is　from　the　Inner　Lands。　He　came　to　rob　the　Tombs。　I　found　him　first　in　the　Undertomb；　beneath　the　very　Stones。　He　ran　to　the　entrance　of　the　Labyrinth　when　he　became　aware　of　me；　as　if　he　knew　where　he　went。　I　locked　the　iron　door　behind　him。　He　made　spells；　but　that　did　not　open　the　door。　In　the　morning　he　went　on　into　the　maze。　I　cannot　find　him　now。〃
　　〃Has　he　a　light？〃
　　〃Yes。〃
　　〃Water？〃
　　〃A　little　flask；　not　full。〃
　　〃His　candle　will　be　burned　down　already。〃　Kossil　pondered。　〃Four　or　five　days。　Maybe　six。　Then　you　can　send　my　wardens　down　to　drag　the　body　out。　The　blood　should　be　fed　to　the　Throne　and　the　…〃
　　〃No；〃　Arha　said　with　sudden；　shrill　fierceness。　〃I　wish　to　find　him　alive。〃
　　The　priestess　looked　down　at　the　girl　from　her　heavy　height。　〃Why？〃
　　〃To　make…　to　make　his　dying　longer。　He　has　mitted　sacrilege　against　the　Nameless　Ones。　He　has　defiled　the　Undertomb　with　light。　He　came　to　rob　the　Tombs　of　their　treasures。　He　must　be　punished　with　worse　than　lying　down　in　a　tunnel　alone　and　dying。〃
　　〃Yes；〃　Kossil　said；　as　if　deliberating。　〃But　how　will　you　catch　him；　mistress？　That　is　chancy。　There　is　no　chance　about　the　other。　Is　there　not　a　room