gc.thewhiterose-第34部分

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ear？〃
　　　One…Eye　had　the　grace　to　look　abashed。　But　Goblin　was　ready　to　argue。
　　　〃Keep　it　up；〃　I　said。　〃I'll　have　Tracker　thrash　you　and　tie　you　up。　We　aren't　playing　games。〃
　　　〃Life　is　a　game；　Croaker；〃　One…Eye　said。　〃You　take　it　too　damned　serious。〃　But　he　behaved　himself；　both　that　night　and　the　next　day　when　we　entered　Oar。
　　　I　found　a　place　well　outside　areas　we　frequented　before。　It　catered　to　small…time　traders　and　travelers。　We　drew　no　especial　attention。　Tracker　and　I　kept　a　watch　on　Goblin　and　One…Eye。　They　did　not　seem　inclined　to　play　the　fool　again；　though。
　　　Next　day　I　went　looking　for　a　smith　named　Sand。　Tracker　acpanied　me。　Goblin　and　One…Eye　stayed　behind；　constrained　by　the　most　terrible　threats　I　could　invent。
　　　Sand's　place　was　easily　found。　He　was　a　longtime　member　of　his　trade；　well…known　among　his　peers。　We　followed　directions。　They　led　me　through　familiar　streets。　Here　the　pany　had　had　some　adventures。
　　　I　discussed　them　with　Tracker　as　we　walked。　I　noted；　〃Been　a　lot　of　rebuilding　since　then。　We　tore　the　place　up　good。〃
　　　Toadkiller　Dog　was　on　point；　as　often　he　was　of　late。　He　stopped　suddenly；　looked　around　suspiciously；　took　a　few　tentative　steps；　sank　onto　his　belly。　〃Trouble；〃　Tracker　said。
　　　〃What　kind？〃　There　was　nothing　obvious　to　the　eye。
　　　〃I　don't　know。　He　can't　talk。　He's　just　doing　his　watch…out…for…trouble　act。〃
　　　〃Okay。　Don't　cost　anything　to　be　careful。〃　We　turned　into　a　place　that　sold　and　repaired　harness　and　tack。　Tracker　yakked　about　needing　a　saddle　for　a　hunter　of　large　beasts。　I　stood　in　the　doorway　watching　the　street。
　　　I　saw　nothing　unusual。　The　normal　run　of　people　went　about　their　normal　business。　But　after　a　while　I　noted　that　Sand's　smithy　had　no　custom。　That　no　smithery　sounds　came　forth。　He　was　supposed　to　supervise　a　platoon　of　apprentices　and　journeymen。
　　　〃Hey。　Proprietor。　Whatever　happened　to　the　smith　over　there？　Last　time　we　were　here　he　did　us　some　work。　Place　looks　empty。〃
　　　〃Grey　boys　is　what　happened。〃　He　looked　unfortable。　Grey　boys　are　imperials。　The　troops　in　the　north　wear　grey。　〃Fool　didn't　learn　back　when。　Was　into　the　Rebellion。〃
　　　〃Too　bad。　He　was　a　good　smith。　What　leads　regular　folks　to　get　into　politics；　anyway？　People　like　us；　we　got　trouble　enough　just　trying　to　make　a　living。〃
　　　〃I　heard　that；　brother。〃　The　tackmaker　shook　his　head。　〃Tell　you　this。　You　got　smithery　needs　doing；　take　your　custom　elsewhere。　The　grey　boys　been　hanging　around；　taking　anybody　who　es　around。〃
　　　About　then　an　imperial　strolled　around　the　side　of　the　smithy　and　crossed　to　a　pasty　stall。　〃Damned　clumsy；〃　I　said。　〃And　crude。〃
　　　The　tackmaker　looked　at　me　askance。　Tracker　covered　well；　drawing　him　back　to　business。　Not　as　dumb　as　he　appeared；　I　noted。　Maybe　just　not　socially　adept。
　　　Later；　after　Tracker　expressed　a　desire　to　think　on　the　deal　the　tackmaker　offered　and　we　departed；　Tracker　asked；　〃What　now？〃
　　　〃We　could　bring　up　Goblin　and　One…Eye　after　dark；　use　their　sleeping　spell；　go　in　and　see　what's　to　see。　But　it　don't　seem　likely　the　imperials　would　leave　anything　interesting。　We　could　find　out　what　they　did　with　Sand　and　try　to　reach　him。　Or　we　could　go　on　to　the　Barrowland。〃
　　　〃Sounds　the　safest。〃
　　　〃On　the　other　hand；　we　wouldn't　know　what　we　were　headed　into。　Sand's　being　taken　could　mean　anything。　We　better　talk　it　over　with　the　others。　Catalog　our　resources。〃
　　　Tracker　grunted。　〃How　long　before　that　hutler　gets　suspicious？　The　more　he　thinks　about　it；　the　more　he's　going　to　realize　we　were　interested　in　the　smith。〃
　　　〃Maybe。　I'm　not　going　to　sweat　it。〃
　　　Oar　is　a　city　like　most　of　substantial　size。　Crowded；　Filled　with　distractions。　I　understood　how　Goblin　and　One…Eye　had　been　seduced　by　Roses。　The　last　major　city　the　pany　dared　visit　was　Chimney。　Six　years　ago。　Since　then　it　has　been　all　the　hard　times　and　small　towns　you　can　imagine。　I　battled　temptations　of　my　own。　I　knew　places　of　interest　in　Oar。
　　　Tracker　kept　me　on　the　straight　line。　I've　never　met　a　man　less　interested　in　the　traps　which　tempt　men。
　　　Goblin　thought　we　should　put　the　imperials　to　sleep；　give　them　the　question。　One…Eye　wanted　to　get　out　of　town。　Their　solidarity　had　perished　like　frost　in　the　sun。
　　　〃Logically；〃　I　said；　〃they　would　get　a　stronger　guard　after　dark。　But　if　we　drag　you　down　there　now；　somebody　is　sure　to　recognize　you。〃
　　　〃Then　find　that　old　boy　who　brought　the　first　letter；〃　Goblin　said。
　　　〃Good　idea。　But。　Think　about　it。　Assuming　he　had　perfect　luck；　he'd　still　be　a　long　way　from　here。　He　didn't　catch　a　ride　like　we　did。　No　go。　We　get　out。　Oar　is　making　me　nervous。〃　Too　many　temptations；　too　many　chances　to　be　recognized。　And　just　too　many　people。　Isolation　had　grown　on　me　out　there　on　the　Plain。
　　　Goblin　wanted　to　argue。　He　had　heard　the　north　roads　were　terrible。
　　　〃I　know；〃　I　countered。　〃I　also　know　the　army　is　building　a　new　route　to　the　Barrowland。　And　they've　pushed　its　north　end　far　enough　so　traders　are　using　it。〃
　　　No　more　argument。　They　wanted　out　as　much　as　I。　Only　Tracker　now　seemed　reluctant。　He　who　first　thought　it　best　to　go。
　　　
　　　Chapter　Twenty…Eight：TO　THE　BARROWLAND
　　　
　　　Oar's　weather　was　less　than　exciting。　Farther　north　it　became　misery　curdled；　though　the　imperial　engineers　had　done　their　best　to　make　the　forest　road　usable。　Much　of　it　was　corduroy；　of　logs　trimmed　and　tarred　and　laid　side　by　side。　In　areas　where　snow　became　obnoxious；　there　were　frameworks　to　support　canvas　coverings。
　　　〃Amazing　scope。〃　One…Eye　said。
　　　〃Uhm。〃　There　was　supposed　to　be　zero　concern　about　the　Dominator　since　the　Lady's　triumph　at　Juniper。　This　seemed　a　lot　of　effort　to　keep　a　road　open。
　　　The　new　road　swung　many　miles　west　of　the　old　because　the　Great　Tragic　River　had　shifted　its　bed　and　continued　doing　so。　The　trip　from　Oar　to　the　Barrowland　was　fifteen　miles　longer。　The　last　forty…five　were　not　wholly　finished。　We　endured　some　rough　going。
　　　We　encountered　the　occasional　trader　headed　south。　They　all　shook　their　heads　and　told　us　we　were　wasting　our　time。　The　fortunes　to　be　had　had　evaporated。　The　tribes　had　hunted　the　furbearers　to　extinction。
　　　Tracker　had　been　preoccupied　since　we　left　Oar。　I　could　not　draw　out　why。　Maybe　superstition。　The　Barrowland　remains　a　great　dread　to　Forsberg's　lower　classes。　The　Dominator　is　the　bogeyman　mothers　conjure　to　frighten　children。　Though　he　has　been　gone　four　hundred　years；　his　stamp　remains　indelible。
　　　It　took　a　week　to　cover　the　final　forty…five　miles。　I　was　growing　time…concerned。　We　might　not　get　done　and　home　before　winter。
　　　We　were　scarcely　out　of　the　forest；　into　the　clearing　at　the　Barrowland。　I　stopped。　〃It's　changed。〃
　　　Goblin　and　One…Eye　crept　up　behind　me。　〃Yuck；〃　Goblin　squeaked。　〃It　sure　has。〃
　　　It　seemed　almost　abandoned。　A　swamp　now；　with　only　the　highest　points　of　the　Barrowland　proper　still　identifiable。　When　last　we　visited；　a　horde　of　imperials　was　clearing；　repairing；　studying　with　a　relentless　clatter　and　bustle。
　　　Near　silence　reigned。　That　bothered　me　more　than　the　decayed　state　of　the　Barrowland。　Slow；　steady　drizzle　under　deep　grey　skies。　Cold。　And　no　sound。
　　　The　corduroy　was　pleted　here。　We　rolled　forward。　Not　till　we　entered　the　town；　buildings　now　for　the　most　part　paintless　and　dilapidated；　did　we　see　a　soul。　A　voice　called；　〃Halt　and　state　your　business。〃
　　　I　stopped。　〃Where　are　you？〃
　　　Toadkiller　Dog；　more　than　normally　ambitious；　loped　to　a　derelict　structure　and　sniffed。　A　grumbling　Guard　stepped　into　the　drizzle。　〃Here。〃
　　　〃Oh。　You　startled　me。　Name　is　Candle。　Of　Candle；　Smith；　Smith；　Tailor；　and　Sons。　Traders。〃
　　　〃Yeah？　These　others？〃
　　　〃Smith　and　Tailor　inside　here。　That's　Tracker。　He　works　for　us。　We're　from　Roses。　We　heard　the　road　north　was　open　again。〃
　　　〃Now　you　know　better。〃　He　chuckled。　I　learned　that　he　was　in　a　good　humor　because　of　the　weather。　It　was　a　nice　day　for　the　Barrowland。
　　　〃What's　the　procedure？〃　I　asked。　〃Where　do　we　put　up？〃
　　　〃Blue　Willy　is　the　only　place。　They'll　be　glad　for　the　custom。　Get　yourself　settled。　Report　to　headquarters　by　tomorrow。〃
　　　〃Right。　Where　is　the　Blue　Willy？〃
　　　He　told　me。　I　snapped　the　traces。　The　wagon　rolled。　〃Seem　pretty　lax；〃　I　said。