tw.togreenangeltower2-第53部分

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　　　　　　　The　empty；　rolling　country　north　of　the　Kynslagh　did　not　inspire　much　cheer　in　any　case。　It　was　fully　as　dreary　and　lifeless　as　Hasu　Vale；　equally　as　wet；　but　did　not　afford　the　hiding　places　and　security　to　be　found　in　the　densely　forested　valley。　Simon　felt　that　they　were　terribly　exposed；　and　could　not　help　marveling　at　the　astonishing　courage…or　stupidity；　or　both…of　walking　virtually　unarmed　into　the　High　King's　gateyard。　If　there　were　left　any　scrap　of　the　panions　or　their　tale　when　these　dark　times　had　someday　passed；　surely　it　would　make　a　wonderful；　unbelievable　song！　Some　future　Shem　Horsegroom；　perhaps；　might　tell　some　wide…eyed　scullion：　〃Do　ye　listen；　lad；　whilst　I　tell　ye　of　Brave　Simon　and　his　friends；　them　who　rode　open…eyed　and　empty…handed　into　the　very　Jaws　of　Darkness。。。。〃
　　　　　　　Jaws　of　Darkness。　Simon　liked　that。　He　had　heard　that　in　a　song　of　Sangfugol's。
　　　　　　　He　suddenly　thought　of　what　that　darkness　really　meant…the　things　he　had　seen　and　felt；　the　dreadful；　clutching　shadows　waiting　beyond　the　light　and　warmth　of　life…and　his　skin　went　shudderingly　cold　from　head　to　foot。

　　　　　　　It　took　them　two　days　to　ride　across　the　hilly　meadow…lands；　two　days　of　mist　and　frequent　cold　rains。　No　matter　which　direction　they　traveled；　the　winds　seemed　always　to　be　blowing　into　their　faces。　Simon　sneezed　the　entirety　of　the　first　night　and　felt　warm　and　unstable　as　melting　candle　wax。　He　was　a　bit　recovered　by　morning。
　　　　　　　In　mid…afternoon　of　the　second　day；　the　headlands　of　Swertclif　appeared　before　them；　the　raw　edge　of　the　high；　rocky　hill　on　whose　summit　the　Hayholt　perched。　As　he　stared　into　the　twilight；　Simon　thought　he　could　see　an　impossibly　slim　white　line　looming　beyond　Swertclif's　naked　face。
　　　　　　　It　was　Green　Angel　Tower；　visible　even　though　it　stood　the　better　part　of　a　league　beyond　the　nearest　side　of　the　hill。
　　　　　　　Simon　felt　something　tingle　up　his　back；　lifting　the　hairs　on　the　nape　of　his　neck。　The　tower；　the　great　shining　spike　that　the　Sithi　had　built　when　the　castle　was　theirs；　the　tower　where　Ineluki　had　lost　his　earthly　life…it　was　waiting；　still　waiting。　But　it　was　also　the　site　of　Simon's　own　boyhood　wanderings　and　imaginings。　He　had　seen　it；　or　something　like　it；　in　so　many　dreams　since　he　had　left　his　home　that　now　it　almost　seemed　like　just　another　dream。　And　below　it；　out　of　sight　beyond　the　cliff；　lay　the　Hayholt　itself。　Tears　welled　up　in　Simon；　but　only　dampened　his　eyes。　How　many　times　had　he　yearned　for　those　mazy　halls；　the　gardens　and　scullion　hiding…holes；　the　warm　corners　and　secret　pleasures？
　　　　　　　He　turned　to　look　at　Miriamele。　She；　too；　was　staring　fixedly　into　the　west；　but　if　she　thought　of　the　pleasures　of　home；　her　face　did　not　show　it。　She　looked　like　a　hunter　who　had　finally　run　a　dangerous　but　long…sought　quarry　to　ground。　He　blinked；　ashamed　that　she　might　see　him　tearful。
　　　　　　　〃I　wondered　if　I'd　ever　see　it　again；〃　he　said　quietly。　A　flurry　of　rain　struck　his　face　and　he　wiped　his　eyes；　grateful　for　the　excuse。　〃It　looks　like　a　dream；　doesn't　it？　A　strange　dream。〃
　　　　　　　Miriamele　nodded　but　said　nothing。
　　　　　　　Binabik　did　not　hurry　them　away。　He　seemed　content　to　wait　and　let　Qantaqa　nose　the　ground　while　Simon　and　Miriamele　sat　and　silently　gazed。
　　　　　　　〃Let　us　make　camp；〃　he　said　finally。　〃If　we　are　riding　another　short　time；　we　can　find　shelter　at　the　base　of　the　hills。〃　He　gestured　toward　Swertclif's　massive　face。　〃Then　in　the　morning　we　will　have　better　light　for　。。。　whatever　we　may　be　doing。〃
　　　　　　　〃We're　going　to　John's　barrow；〃　Simon　said；　more　firmly　than　he　felt。　〃At　least　that's　what　I'm　doing。〃
　　　　　　　Binabik　shrugged。　〃Let　us　be　riding。　When　we　have　a　fire　and　food　will　be　time　for　making　of　plans。〃

　　　　　　　The　sun　vanished　behind　Swertclif's　broad　hump　long　before　evening。　They　rode　forward　in　cold　shadow。　Even　the　horses　seemed　uneasy：　Simon　could　feel　Homefinder's　unwillingness；　and　thought　that　if　he　allowed　her　she　would　turn　and　race　in　the　opposite　direction。
　　　　　　　Swertclif　waited　like　an　infinitely　patient　ogre。　As　they　drew　closer；　the　great　dark　hill　seemed　to　blot　out　the　sky　as　well　as　the　sun；　spreading　and　swelling　until　it　seemed　they　could　not　turn　away　from　it　even　if　they　tried。　From　the　slope　of　its　outermost　foothills；　they　saw　a　flash　of　gray…green　to　the　south；　just　beyond　the　cliffs…the　Kynslagh；　visible　for　the　first　time。　Simon　felt　a　pang　of　joy　and　regret；　as　he　remembered　the　familiar；　soothing　song　of　the　gulls　and　thought　of　the　fisherman…father　he　had　never　known。
　　　　　　　At　last；　when　the　hill's　almost　perpendicular　face　stood　above　them　like　a　vast　wall；　they　made　camp　in　a　ravine。　The　winds　were　less　here；　and　Swertclif　itself　blocked　much　of　the　rain。　Simon　smiled　grimly　at　the　thought　that　the　ogre's　waiting　was　over：　he　and　his　panions　were　going　to　sleep　in　its　lap　tonight。
　　　　　　　No　one　wanted　to　be　first　to　speak　of　what　they　would　do　tomorrow。　The　making　of　the　fire　and　the　preparation　of　a　modest　supper　were　undertaken　with　a　minimum　of　conversation　and　little　of　the　fellowship　that　usually　enlivened　the　evenings。　Tonight　Miriamele　did　not　seem　angry　but　preoccupied；　and　even　Binabik　was　hesitant　in　his　actions；　as　though　his　thoughts　were　elsewhere。
　　　　　　　Simon　felt　surprisingly　calm；　almost　cheerful；　and　was　disappointed　that　his　panions　did　not　share　his　mood。　This　was　a　dangerous　place；　of　course；　and　the　next　day's　doings　would　be　fearful…he　was　not　letting　himself　think　too　much　about　where　the　sword　was　and　what　needed　to　be　done　to　find　it…but　at　least　he　was　doing　something。　At　least　he　was　performing　the　kind　of　task　for　which　he　had　been　knighted。　And　if　it　worked…oh；　glory！　If　it　worked；　surely　Miriamele　would　see　that　taking　the　sword　to　Josua　would　be　more　important　than　trying　to　convince　her　mad　father　to　halt　a　war　that　was　doubtless　already　beyond　his　power　to　stop。　Yes；　surely　when　they　had　Bright…Nail…think　of　it；　Bright…Nail！　Prester　John's　famous　sword！…in　hand；　Miriamele　would　realize　that　they　had　obtained　the　greatest　prize　they　could　hope　for；　and　he　and　Binabik　could　coax　her　back　to　the　parative　safety　of　her　uncle's　camp。
　　　　　　　Simon　was　considering　these　ideas　and　letting　his　meal　settle　when　Binabik　finally　began　to　speak。
　　　　　　　〃Once　we　are　climbing　this　hill；〃　the　troll　said　slowly；　〃we　will　be　having　great　difficulty　to　turn　back。　We　are　having　no　knowledge　whether　there　are　soldiers　above…perhaps　Elias　has　placed　guards　for　protecting　his　father's　sword　and　tomb。　If　we　are　going　any　farther　westward；　we　will　be　ing　to　where　people　in　that　great　castle　can　be　seeing　us。　Do　you　have　certainness…real；　real　true　certainness！…that　you　both　want　this？　Please　think　before　you　are　speaking。〃
　　　　　　　Simon　did　as　his　friend　asked。　After　a　while；　he　knew　what　he　wished　to　say。　〃We　are　here。　The　next　time　we　are　so　close　to　Bright…Nail；　there　may　be　men　fighting　everywhere。　We　may　never　be　able　to　get　near　it。　So　I　think　it　would　be　foolish　not　to　try　to　take　it　now。　I'm　going。〃
　　　　　　　Binabik　looked　at　Simon；　then　slowly　nodded。　〃So　we　will　go　to　take　the　sword。〃　He　turned　to　the　princess。　〃Miriamele？〃
　　　　　　　〃I　have　little　to　say　about　it。　If　we　need　to　use　the　Three　Swords；　then　that　will　mean　I　have　failed。〃　She　smiled；　but　it　was　a　smile　Simon　did　not　like　at　all。　〃And　if　I　fail　to　convince　my　father；　I　doubt　that　whatever　happens　afterward　will　mean　much　to　me。〃
　　　　　　　The　troll　made　a　close…handed　gesture。　〃There　is　never　sure　knowledge。　I　will　help　you　as　I　can；　and　Simon　will　also；　I　am　not　doubting　that…but　you　must　not　give　up　any　chance　of　ing　out　again。　Thinking　of　this　sort　will　make　you　careless。〃
　　　　　　　〃I　would　be　very　happy　to　e　out　again；〃　said　Miriamele。　〃I　want　to　help　my　father　understand　so　that　he　will　cease　the　killing；　then　I　want　to　say　farewell　to　him。　I　could　never　live　with　him　after　what　he　has　done。〃
　　　　　　　〃I　am　hoping　that　you　get　the　thing　you　are　wishing　for；〃　Binabik　replied。　〃So…first　we　are　to　go　swordsearching；　then　we　will　decide　what　can　be　done　for　helping　Miriamele。　For　such　weighty　efforts；　I　have　need　of　sleep。〃
　　　　　　　He　lay　down；　curling　against　Qantaqa；　and　pulled　his　hood　over　his　face。　Miri