tw.togreenangeltower2-第23部分

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in　cold；　cascading　slaps　of　water。
　　　　　　　〃This　is　as　bad　as　being　on　a　ship　in　storm；〃　Miriamele　shouted。
　　　　　　　〃At　least　on　a　ship　you　have　oars；〃　Simon　called　back。　〃We're　going　to　need　some　soon。〃
　　　　　　　Miriamele　laughed；　pulling　her　hood　down　low　over　her　eyes。　Simon　felt　warmer　just　knowing　he　had　amused　her。　He　had　been　feeling　a　little　ashamed　of　the　way　he　had　treated　the　old　man；　almost　as　soon　as　Heanwig　had　gone　shuffling　away　down　the　lane；　heading　back　toward　the　center　of　Stanshire；　Simon　had　felt　his　bad　temper　evaporate。　It　was　hard　to　say　now　what　it　was　about　the　old　man　that　had　so　perturbed　him…he　hadn't　really　done　anything。
　　　　　　　They　headed　back　toward　the　River　Road　along　a　succession　of　wagon…rutted　lanes　that　now　were　little　more　than　sluices　of　mud。　The　countryside　began　to　look　more　wild。　The　farmlands　around　Stanshire；　although　mostly　given　over　to　weeds；　still　bore　the　mark　of　past　human　care　in　the　fences　and　stone　walls　and　an　occasional　cottage；　but　as　the　town　and　its　outlying　settlements　fell　away　behind　them；　the　wilderness　reasserted　itself。
　　　　　　　It　was　a　peculiarly　bleak　place。　The　nearly　endless　winter　had　stripped　all　of　the　trees　but　the　evergreens；　and　even　the　pines　and　firs　seemed　to　have　suffered　unkind　handling。　Simon　thought　the　strange；　twisted　shape　of　the　trunks　and　branches　resembled　the　writhing　human　bodies　in　the　mural　of　The　Day　of　Weighing…Out　which　stretched　across　the　wall　of　the　Hayholt's　chapel。　He　had　spent　many　a　boring　hour　in　church　staring　in　fascination　at　the　scenes　of　torment；　marveling　at　the　invention　of　the　anonymous　artist。　But　here　in　the　real；　cold；　wet　world；　the　gnarled　shapes　were　mostly　disheartening。　Leafless　oaks　and　elms　and　ash　trees　loomed　against　the　sky；　skeletal　hands　that　clenched　and　unclenched　as　the　wind　bent　them。　With　the　sky　bruised　almost　black　by　clouds　and　the　rain　flung　slantwise　across　the　muddied　hillsides；　it　made　a　much　drearier　picture　than　even　the　decorations　in　the　chapel。
　　　　　　　Simon　and　Miriamele　rode　on　through　the　storm；　mostly　unspeaking。　Simon　was　chagrined　that　the　princess　had　not　once　mentioned；　or　even　hinted　at；　their　kiss　of　the　night　before。　It　was　not　a　day　conducive　to　flirtatious　conversation；　he　knew；　but　she　seemed　to　be　pretending　it　had　never　even　happened。　Simon　did　not　know　what　to　do　about　this：　several　times　he　was　on　the　verge　of　asking　her；　but　he　could　not　think　of　anything　to　say　about　it　that　would　not　sound　stupid　in　the　light　of　day。　That　kiss　had　been　a　bit　like　his　arrival　in　Jao　e…Tinukai'i；　a　moment　in　which　he　had　stepped　out　of　time。　Perhaps；　like　a　trip　to　a　fairy…hill；　what　they　had　shared　the　night　before　had　been　something　magical；　something　destined　to　fade　as　quickly　from　memory　as　an　icicle　melting　in　the　sun。
　　　　　　　No。　I　won't　let　it　fade。　I'll　remember　it　always　。　。。　even　if　she　doesn't。
　　　　　　　He　stole　a　glance　at　Miriamele。　Most　of　her　face　was　hidden　by　the　hood；　but　he　could　see　her　nose　and　part　of　her　cheek　and　her　sharp　chin。　She　looked　almost　Silha…like；　he　thought；　graceful　and　beautiful；　yet　not　quite　knowable。　What　was　going　on　in　her　head？　How　could　she　cling　to　him　as　she　had；　then　say　nothing　about　it　afterward；　until　he　wondered　if　he　had　dreamed　the　whole　thing　or　was　going　mad？　Surely　she　had　returned　that　kiss　as　eagerly　as　he　had　given　it？　Little　as　he　knew　of　women　and　kissing；　he　could　not　believe　that　the　way　she　had　responded　meant　nothing。
　　　　　　　Why　don't　I　just　ask　her？　I'll　go　mad　if　I　don't　find　out。　But　what　if　she　laughs　at　me；　or　gets　angry…or　doesn't　remember？
　　　　　　　The　idea　that　Miriamele　might　have　no　strong　emotions　corresponding　to　the　feelings　that　churned　within　him　was　chilling。　His　resolve　to　make　her　talk　abruptly　vanished。　He　would　think　about　it　more。
　　　　　　　But　I　want　to　kiss　her　again。
　　　　　　　He　sighed。　The　sound　was　lost　in　the　hissing　tumult　of　the　rain。

　　　　　　　The　River　Road　was　muddy　and　almost　entirely　empty；　as　Simon　had　predicted；　they　passed　fewer　than　a　dozen　other　travelers　all　day。　Only　one　man　bothered　to　do　more　than　nod；　a　short；　bandy…legged　fellow　whose　knob…kneed　horse　pulled　a　tented　wagon　full　of　tinker's　goods。　Hoping　for　information　about　what　might　lie　ahead；　Simon　took　courage　at　his　pleasant　greeting　and　asked　the　man　to　stop。　The　tinker　stood　in　the　downpour；　apparently　glad　for　someone　to　talk　to；　and　told　them　that　there　was　a　way　station　ahead　that　they　should　reach　not　long　after　sundown。　He　said　he　was　on　his　way　out　from　Falshire；　and　described　that　city　as　quiet　and　the　business　he　had　done　there　as　poor。　After　quietly　making　sure　that　Miriamele　approved；　Simon　invited　the　man　to　e　join　them　beneath　a　stand　of　pines　that　kept　out　most　of　the　rain。　They　handed　him　the　wineskin；　and　while　their　new　acquaintance　took　a　few　healthy　swallows；　Simon　repeated　his　story　of　being　an　itinerant　chandler。
　　　　　　　〃Thank　you　kindly。〃　The　tinker　handed　back　the　wineskin。　〃Cuts　the　chill　a　bit；　that　does。〃　He　nodded。　〃You'll　be　hoping　to　do　some　trade　for　Saint　Tunath's　and　Aedonmansa；　then。　Good　luck　to　you。　But　if　you'll　pardon　advice　not　asked　for；　I　think　you'd　best　go　no　farther　west　than　Falshire。〃
　　　　　　　Simon　and　Miriamele　locked　eyes　briefly　before　turning　back　to　the　traveler。
　　　　　　　〃Why　is　that？〃　asked　Simon。
　　　　　　　〃People　just　say　it's　bad　there。〃　The　man's　grin　seemed　forced。　〃You　know　the　sort　of　tales。　Bandits；　the　like。　Some　talk　of　odd　happenings　in　the　hills。〃　He　shrugged。
　　　　　　　Simon　pressed　him　for　details；　but　the　man　did　not　seem　inclined　to　elaborate。　Simon　had　never　heard　of　a　traveling　tinker　who　would　not　happily　finish　a　proffered　wineskin　while　regaling　his　listeners　with　tales　of　his　journeying；　whether　this　man　was　an　exception　to　the　rule；　or　whether　there　was　something　that　had　disturbed　him　enough　to　keep　him　quiet；　Simon　could　not　tell。　He　seemed　a　reasonable　sort。
　　　　　　　〃We're　looking　for　nothing　but　a　roof　over　our　heads　and　a　few　timings　worth　of　work　here　and　there；〃　said　Simon。
　　　　　　　The　tinker　cocked　an　eyebrow　at　the　sword　on　Simon's　belt　and　the　metal　hauberk　protruding　beyond　his　sleeves。　〃You're　tolerable　well…armed　for　candle…making；　sirrah；〃　he　said　gently。　〃But　I　suppose　that　shows　what　the　roads　are　like　these　days。〃　He　nodded　with　a　sort　of　careful　approval；　as　if　to　suggest　that　whatever　he　thought　of　a　chandler　wearing　the　gear　of　a　knight…albeit　a　tattered　knight　who　had　seen　better　times…he　saw　no　reason　to　ask　further　questions。
　　　　　　　Simon；　catching　the　implicit　message　that　he　was　expected　to　adopt　the　same　courteous　disinterest；　offered　the　tinker　a　handclasp　as　they　all　walked　back　to　the　road。
　　　　　　　〃Anything　you　need？〃　the　man　asked　as　he　once　more　took　the　bridle　of　his　horse；　which　had　been　standing　patiently　in　the　rain。　〃I　get　a　few　things　in　trade　from　them　as　has　not　a　cintis　piece　to　pay…some　vegetables；　little　bits　of　metal　clutter　。。。　shoeing…nails；　the　like。〃
　　　　　　　Simon　said　that　they　had　everything　they　needed　until　they　reached　Falshire：　he　was　quite　sure　that　the　things　they　most　needed　would　not　be　in　the　back　of　a　rain…soaked　wagon。　But　Miriamele　asked　to　see　the　vegetables；　and　picked　out　a　few　spindly　carrots　and　four　brown　onions；　giving　the　tinker　a　coin　in　return。　Afterward　they　waved　him　farewell　as　he　took　his　horse　and　went　squelching　away　east　along　the　muddy　road。
　　　　　　　As　the　gray　afternoon　wore　away；　the　rain　continued　to　spatter　down。　Simon　was　growing　tired　of　it　pounding　on　his　head。
　　　　　　　Wish　I'd　remembered　to　bring　my　battle…helm；　he　thought。　But　that'd　probably　be　like　sitting　under　a　bucket　and　having　someone　throw　stones　at　you…rattle；　rattle；　rattle　till　you　go　mad。
To　entertain　Miriamele；　he　tried　to　sing　a　song　called　〃Badulf　and　the　Straying　Heifer〃　that　Shem　Horsegroom　had　taught　him；　which　had　a　rainstorm　in　it　and　seemed　appropriate；　but　most　of　the　words　had　slipped　his　memory；　and　when　he　sang　the　parts　he　remembered；　the　wind　flung　rain　down　his　gullet　until　he　thought　he　would　strangle。　He　abandoned　the　experiment　at　last　and　they　continued　in　silence。
The　sun　which　had　been　invisible　all　day　at　last　sank　beneath　the　rim　of　the　world；　leaving　behind　a　deeper　darkness。　The