tw.togreenangeltower2-第117部分
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n I。〃
〃No。〃 Miriamele smiled。 〃Nothing bad at all。 But he and I were talking about something； and I want to talk to him more。〃
〃Ah。 He will e back in a little time。 He has left this place。〃
〃Then I'll just watch you work； if you don't mind。〃
Yis…hadra returned the smile。 〃No。 I will tell you something about the stone； if you like。 Stones have stories。 We know the stories。 Sometimes I think we know their stories better than our own。〃
Miriamele sat down with her back against the wall。 Yis…hadra continued with her task； and as she did so； she talked。 Miriamele had never thought much about rocks and stone； but as she listened to the dwarrow's low； musical voice； she saw for the first time that they were in a way living things； like plants and animals…or at least they were to Yis…hadra's kind。 The stones moved； but that movement took eons。 They changed； but no living thing； not even the Sithi； walked alive beneath the sky long enough to see that change。 The dwarrow…folk studied and cultivated； and even in a way loved； the bones of the earth。 They admired the beauty of glittering gems and shining metals； but they also valued the layered patience of sandstone and the boldness of volcanic glass。 Every one of them had its own tale； but it took a certain kind of vision and wisdom to understand the slow stories that stones told。 Yis…fidri's wife； with her huge eyes and careful fingers； knew them well。 Miriamele found herself oddly touched by this strange creature； and for a while； listening to Yis…hadra's slow； joyful speech； she forgot even her own unhappiness。
Tiamak felt a hand close around his arm。
〃Is that you？〃 Father Strangyeard's voice sounded querulous。
〃It is me。〃
〃We shouldn't either of us be out on deck；〃 the archivist said。 〃Sludig will be angry。〃
〃Sludig would be right；〃 Tiamak said。 〃The kilpa are all around us。〃 But still he did not move。 The closed quarters of the ship's cabin had been making it hard to think； and the ideas that were moving at the edge of his mind seemed too important to lose just because of a fear of the sea…creatures…however worthy of fear they might be。
〃My sight is not good；〃 Strangyeard said； peering worriedly into the darkness。 He held his hand beside his good eye to shield against the strong winds。 〃I should probably not be walking the deck at night。 But I was 。。。 worried for you； you were gone so long。〃
〃I know。〃 Tiamak patted the older man's hand where it lay on the weathered rail。 〃I am thinking about the things I told you earlier…the idea I had when Camaris fought Benigaris。〃 He stopped； noticing for the first time the ship's odd movement。 〃Are we anchored？〃 he asked at last。
〃We are。 The Hayefur is not lit at Wentmouth； and Josua feared to e too close to the rocks in darkness。 He sent word with the signal…lamp。〃 The archivist shivered。 〃It makes it worse； though； having to sit still。 Those nasty gray things 。。。〃
〃Then let us go down。 I think the rains are returning； in any case。〃 Tiamak turned from the rail。 〃We will warm some of your wine…a drylander custom I have e to appreciate…and think more about the swords。〃 He took the priest's elbow and led him toward the cabin door。
〃Surely this is better；〃 Strangyeard said。 He braced himself against the wall as the ship dipped into a trough between the waves； then handed the sloshing cup to the Wrannaman。 〃I had better cover the coals。 It would be terrible if the brazier tipped over。 Goodness！ I hope everyone else is being careful； too。〃
〃I think Sludig is allowing few others to have braziers； or even lanterns； except on deck。〃 Tiamak took a sip of the wine and smacked his lips。 〃Ah。 Good。 No； we are the privileged ones because we have things to read and time is short。〃
The archivist lowered himself to the pallet on the floor； pitching gently with the motion of the ship。 〃So I suppose we should be back at our work again。〃 He drank from his own cup。 〃Forgive me； Tiamak； but does it not seem futile to you sometimes？ Hanging all our hopes on three swords； two of which are not even ours？〃 He stared into his wine。
〃I came late to these matters； in a way。〃 Tiamak made himself fortable。 The rocking of the ship； however pronounced； was not that different from the way the wind rattled his house in the banyan tree。 〃If you had asked me a year ago what chance there was that I would be aboard a boat sailing for Erkynland to conquer the High King…that I would be a Scrollbearer； that I would have seen Camaris reborn； been captured by the ghants； saved by the Duke of Elvritshalla and the High King's daughter 。。。〃 He waved his hand。 〃You see what I am saying。 Everything that has happened to us is madness； but when we look back； it all seems to have followed logically from one moment to the next。 Perhaps someday capturing and using the swords will seem just as clear in its sense。〃
〃That is a nice thought。〃 Strangyeard sighed and pushed his eyepatch； which had shifted slightly； back into place。 〃I like things better when they have already happened。 Books may differ； one from the other； but at least most every book claims to know the truth and set it out clearly。〃
〃Someday we will perhaps be in someone else's book；〃 Tiamak offered； smiling； 〃and whoever writes it will be very certain about how everything came to pass。 But we do not have that luxury now。〃 He leaned forward。 〃Now where is the part of the doctor's manuscript that tells of the forging of Sorrow？〃
〃Here； I think。〃 Strangyeard shuffled through one of the many piles of parchment scattered about the room。 〃Yes； here。〃 He lifted it to the light； squinting。 〃Shall I read something to you？〃
Tiamak held out his hand。 He had an immense fondness for the Archive Master； a closeness he had not felt to anyone since old Doctor Morgenes。 〃No；〃 he said gently； 〃let me read。 Let us not put your poor eyes to any more work tonight。〃
Strangyeard mumbled something and gave him the sheaf of parchment。
〃It is this bit about the Words of Making that sticks in my head；〃 Tiamak said。 〃Is it possible that all these swords were made with these same powerful Words？〃
〃But why would you think so？〃 Strangyeard asked。 His face became intent。 〃Nisses' book； at least as Morgenes quotes it； does not seem to say that。 All the swords came from different places； and one was forged by mortals。〃
〃There must be something that links them all together；〃 Tiamak replied； 〃and I can think of nothing else。 Why else should possessing them all give us such power？〃 He shuffled through the parchments。 〃Great magic went into their forging。 It must be this magic that will bring us power over the Storm King！〃
As he spoke； the song of a Niskie rose outside； piercing the mournful sound of the winds。 The melody throbbed with wild power； an alien sound even more disturbing than the distant rumble of thunder。
〃If only there were someone who knew of the swords' forging；〃 Tiamak murmured in frustration； his eyes stared at Morgenes' precise； ornate characters； but did not really see them。 The Niskie song rose higher； then vibrated and fell away on a note of keening loss。 〃If only we could speak to the dwarrows who made Minneyar…but Eolair says they were far to the north； many leagues beyond the Hayholt。 And the Nabbanai smiths who forged Thorn are centuries dead。〃 He frowned。 〃So many questions we have； and still so few answers。 This is tiring； Strangyeard。 It seems that every step forward takes us two paces back into confusion。〃
The archivist was silent while Tiamak looked for the well…thumbed pages that described Ineluki creating Sorrow in the forges below Asu'a。 〃Here it is；〃 he said at last。 〃I will read。〃
〃Just a moment；〃 said Strangyeard。 〃Perhaps the answer to one is the answer to both。〃
Tiamak looked up。 〃What do you mean？〃 He dragged his thoughts away from the page before him。
〃Your other idea was that somehow we have been purposely kept in confusion…that the Storm King has played Elias and Josua off against each other while he pursued some goal of his own。〃
〃Yes？〃
〃Perhaps it is not just some secret goal he has that he wishes to conceal。 Perhaps he also trie
