tw.togreenangeltower2-第12部分

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pany　of　Sithi　who　led　them；　their　banners　and　armor　ablaze　with　color。　Could　the　fact　that　Jiriki's　folk　have　entered　the　battle　somehow　have　tipped　the　scale　in　our　favor？　Or　am　I　making　too　much　out　of　the　tiniest　of　signs？
　　　　　　　He　laughed　to　himself；　but　grimly。　This　last　year　and　its　attendant　horrors　seemed　to　have　made　him　as　omen…drunk　as　his　ancestors　of　Hern's　day。
　　　　　　　His　ancestors　had　been　on　Eolair's　mind　more　than　a　little　in　the　last　few　days。　The　army　of　Sithi　and　men　riding　toward　Naglimund　had　recently　stopped　at　Eolair's　castle　at　Nad　Mullach　on　the　River　Baraillean。　In　the　two　days　the　army　was　quartered　there；　the　count　had　found　another　three　score　men　from　the　surrounding　area　who　were　willing　to　join　the　war　party…most　of　them　more　for　the　wonder　of　riding　with　the　fabled　Peaceful　Ones；　Eolair　suspected；　than　out　of　any　sense　of　duty　or　thirst　for　revenge。　The　young　men　who　agreed　to　join　the　pany　were　mostly　those　whose　families　had　been　lost　or　scattered　during　the　recent　conflict。　Those　who　still　had　land　or　loved　ones　to　protect　had　no　desire　to　ride　off　to　another　war；　no　matter　how　noble　or　all…enpassing　the　cause…nor　could　Eolair　have　manded　them　to　do　so：　the　landholders　of　Hernystir　had　not　possessed　that　right　since　King　Tethtain's　day。
　　　　　　　Nad　Mullach　had　been　less　harshly　treated　than　Hernysadharc；　but　it　had　still　suffered　during　Skali's　conquest。　In　the　short　time　he　had；　Eolair　rounded　up　those　few　of　his　retainers　who　remained　and　did　his　best　to　set　things　on　the　right　course　again。　If　he　did　manage　somehow　to　return　from　this　mad　war　that　was　growing　madder　by　the　day；　he　wanted　nothing　more　than　to　put　down　the　reins　of　responsibility　as　soon　as　possible　and　live　once　more　in　his　beloved　Nad　Mullach。
　　　　　　　His　liege…folk　had　held　out　long　against　the　small　portion　of　Skali's　army　that　had　been　left　to　besiege　them；　but　when　those　prisoned　within　the　castle's　walls　began　to　starve；　Eolair's　cousin　and　castellaine　Gwynna；　a　stern；　capable　woman；　opened　the　gates　to　the　Rimmersmen。　Many　of　the　fine　things　that　had　been　in　Eolair's　line　since　not　long　after　Sinnach's　alliance　with　the　Eri…king　were　destroyed　or　stolen；　and　so　were　many　objects　that　Eolair　himself　had　brought　back　from　his　travels　throughout　Osten　Ard。　Still；　he　had　consoled　himself；　the　walls　still　stood；　the　fields…under　a　blanket　of　snow…were　still　fertile；　and　the　wide　Baraillean；　unhindered　by　war　or　winter；　still　rushed　past　Nad　Mullach　on　its　way　to　Abaingeat　and　the　sea。
　　　　　　　The　count　had　mended　Gwynna　for　her　decision；　telling　her　that　had　he　been　in　residence　he　would　have　done　the　same。　She；　to　whom　the　sight　of　Skali's　outlanders　in　her　great　house　had　been　the　most　galling　thing　imaginable；　was　a　little　forted；　but　not　much。
　　　　　　　Those　outlanders；　perhaps　because　their　master　was　far　away　in　Hernysadharc；　or　perhaps　because　they　were　not　themselves　of　Skali's　savage　Kaldskryke　clan；　had　been　less　hateful　in　their　occupation　than　the　invaders　in　other　parts　of　Hernystir。　They　had　treated　their　conquered　prisoners　poorly；　and　had　plundered　and　smashed　to　their　hearts'　content；　but　had　not　indulged　in　the　kind　of　rape；　torture；　and　senseless　killing　that　had　marked　Skali's　main　army　as　it　drove　on　Hernysadharc。
　　　　　　　Still；　despite　the　parative　lightness　of　the　damage　to　his　ancestral　home；　as　he　rode　out　of　Nad　Mullach　Eolair　was　nevertheless　filled　with　a　sense　of　violation　and　shame。　His　forebears　had　built　the　castle　to　watch　over　their　bit　of　the　river　valley。　Now　it　had　been　attacked　and　defeated；　and　the　current　count　had　not　even　been　at　home。　His　servants　and　kin　had　been　forced　to　make　their　way　alone。
　　　　　　　I　served　my　king；　he　told　himself。　What　else　could　I　do？
　　　　　　　There　was　no　answer；　but　that　did　not　make　it　any　easier　to　live　with　the　memories　of　shattered　stone；　scorched　tapestries；　and　frightened；　hollow…eyed　people。　Even　should　both　war　and　spirit…winter　end　tomorrow；　that　harm　had　already　been　done。

　　　　　　　〃Would　you　like　something　more　to　eat；　my　lady？〃　Eolair　asked。
　　　　　　　He　could　not　help　wondering　what　Maegwin　in　her　madness　made　of　the　rather　poor　fare　that　had　been　their　lot　so　far　on　the　trip　toward　Naglimund。　Nothing　much　could　be　expected　of　a　war…ravaged　countryside；　of　course；　but　the　count　was　curious　how　hard　bread　and　leathery　onions　could　be　considered　food　fit　for　gods。
　　　　　　　〃No；　Eolair；　thank　you。〃　Maegwin　shook　her　head　and　smiled　gently。　〃Even　in　a　land　of　unending　pleasure；　we　must　rest　from　pleasure　occasionally。〃
　　　　　　　Unending　pleasure！　The　count　smiled　back　despite　himself。　It　might　not　be　bad　to　be　as　touched　as　Maegwin；　at　least　during　meals。
　　　　　　　A　moment　later　he　chided　himself　for　the　uncharitable　thought。　Look　at　her。　She's　like　a　child。　It's　not　her　fault…perhaps　it　was　the　blow　Skali　struck　her。　It　may　not　have　killed　her；　as　she　thinks；　but　it　might　have　disordered　her　brains。
　　　　　　　He　stared　at　her。　Maegwin　was　watching　the　sunset　with　evident　pleasure。　Her　face　seemed　almost　to　glow。
　　　　　　　What　is　that　term　they　use　in　Nabban？　〃Holy　fools。〃　That's　what　she　looks　like…someone　who　is　no　longer　of　the　earth。
　　　　　　　〃The　sky　of　heaven　is　more　beautiful　than　I　would　have　imagined；〃　she　said　dreamily。　〃I　wonder　if　perhaps　it　is　our　own　sky；　but　we　see　it　now　from　the　other　side。〃
　　　　　　　And　even　were　there　some　cure；　Eolair　wondered　suddenly；　what　right　have　I　to　take　this　away　from　her？　The　thought　was　shocking；　like　cold　water　dashed　in　his　face。　She　is　happy…happy　for　the　first　time　since　her　father　went　off　to　war　and　his　death。　She　eats；　she　sleeps；　she　talks　to　me　and　others　。。。　even　if　most　of　it　is　arrant　nonsense。　How　would　she　be　better　off　if　she　came　back　to　her　senses　in　this　dreadful　time？
　　　　　　　There　was　no　answer　to　that；　of　course。　Eolair　took　a　deep　breath；　fighting　off　the　weariness　that　assailed　him　when　he　was　with　Maegwin。　He　stood　and　walked　to　a　patch　of　melting　snow　nearby；　washed　his　bowl；　then　returned　to　the　tree　where　Maegwin　sat；　staring　out　across　the　rolling　fields　of　grass　and　gray　snow　toward　the　ruddy　western　sky。
　　　　　　　〃I　am　going　to　talk　to　Jiriki；〃　he　told　her。　〃Will　you　be　well　here？〃
　　　　　　　She　nodded；　a　half…smile　tilting　her　lips。　〃Certainly；　Count　Eolair。〃
　　　　　　　He　bowed　his　head　and　left　her。

　　　　　　　The　Sithi　were　seated　upon　the　ground　around　Likimeya's　fire。　Eolair　stopped　some　distance　away；　marveling　at　the　strangeness　of　the　sight。　Although　close　to；　a　dozen　of　them　sat　in　a　wide　circle；　no　one　spoke：　they　merely　looked　at　each　other　as　though　they　carried　on　some　wordless　conversation。　Not　for　the　first　time；　the　Count　of　Nad　Mullach　felt　the　hairs　on　the　back　of　his　neck　rise　in　superstitious　wonder。　What　strange　allies！
　　　　　　　Likimeya　still　wore　her　mask　of　ashes。　Heavy　rains　had　swept　down　on　the　traveling　army　the　day　before；　but　her　strange　face…painting　seemed　just　as　it　had　been；　which　made　the　count　suspect　that　she　renewed　it　each　day。　Seated　across　from　her　was　a　tall；　narrow…featured　Sitha…woman；　thin　as　a　priest's　staff；　with　pale　sky…blue　hair　drawn　up　atop　her　head　in　a　birdlike　crest。　It　was　only　because　Jiriki　had　told　him　that　Eolair　knew　that　this　stern　woman；　Zinjadu；　was　even　older　than　Likimeya。
　　　　　　　Also　seated　at　the　fire　was　Jiriki's　red…haired；　green…garbed　uncle　Khendraja'aro；　and　Chekai'so　Amber…Locks；　whose　shaggy　hair　and　surprisingly　open　face…Eolair　had　even　seen　this　Sitha　smile　and　laugh…made　him　seem　almost　human。　On　either　side　of　Jiriki　sat　Yizashi；　whose　long　gray　witchwood　spear　was　twined　about　with　sun…golden　ribbons；　and　Kuroyi；　who　was　taller　than　anyone　else　in　the　entire　pany；　Sithi　or　Hernystiri；　and　so　pale　and　cold…featured　that　but　for　his　tar…black　hair　he　might　have　been　a　Norn。　There　were　others；　too；　three　females　and　a　pair　of　males　that　Eolair　had　seen　before；　but　whose　names　he　did　not　know。
　　　　　　　He　stood　unfortably　for　some　time；　uncertain　of　whether　to　stay　or　go。　At　last；　Jiriki　looked　up。　〃Count　Eolair；〃　he　said。　〃We　are　just　thinking　about　Naglimund。〃
　　　　　　　Eolair　nodded；　then　bowed　toward　Likimeya；　who　lowered　her　chin　briefly　in　acknowledgment。　None　of　the　other　Sithi　gave　him　much　more　attention　t