fs.thefirstbookofswords-第19部分

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gain；　without　success。　But　he　found　a　few　berries；　and　made　himself　a　small　watchfire　as　darkness　fell。
　　　During　the　night　there　were　rain　showers　enough　to　put　out　his　fire；　and　the　bank　offered　him　no　real　protection　against　the　weather。　But　the　deep；　bitter　cold　of　the　high　altitudes　was　moderated　here；　Mark　shivered；　but　survived。　Dawn　came　slowly；　an　indirect　brightening　of　an　overcast　sky。　For　Mark　the　clouds　were　reassuring　…　the　Duke's　menagerie　was　said　to　include　flying　beasts　of　some　degree　of　intelligence；　that　he　sent　out　on　spy　missions　from　time　to　time。　Again　in　the　morning　Mark　fished　without　catching　anything。　Then　he　got　moving；　picking　and　eating　a　few　more　berries　as　he　went。　He　continued　to　follow　down　the　channel　of　the　leaping；　roaring　stream　until　the　way　became　too　difficult。　Then　he　left　the　streambed　to　strike　out　across　a　less　difficult　slope。
　　　His　chosen　way　gradually　revealed　itself　as　a　real　path。　The　trail　was　very　faint　at　first；　but　after　he'd　followed　it　for　half　an　hour　its　existence　was　undeniable。　Switchbacking　through　a　field　strewn　with　great　boulders；　it　led　him　in　another　hour　to　a　primitive　road；　which　also　tended　to　the　south　as　well　as　down。
　　　The　road's　twin　ruts　showed　that　it　had　once　been　used　by　wheeled　vehicles。　But　it　was　reassuringly　empty　of　all　signs　of　present　traffic；　and　Mark　continued　to　follow　its　twistings　among　the　foothill　outcroppings　and　rockslides。　Within　a　few　kilometers　it　joined　a　north…south　way；　much　wider　and　better　defined；　upon　which　some　effort　at　road…building　had　once　been　expended。
　　　Mark　turned　onto　this　highway；　still　heading　south。　Presently　he　came　upon　evidence　of　recent　use；　freshly　worn　ruts　and　beast…droppings　no　more　than　a　day　old。　His　sense　of　caution　increased　sharply。　The　Duke's　men　and　creatures；　if　they　really　were　searching　for　him；　were　likely　to　be　near。
　　　Trying　to　make　himself　inconspicuous；　Mark　left　the　road　and　trudged　along　parallel　with　it　at　some　fifty　meters'　distance。　But　the　rocky　terrain　not　only　slowed　him　down；　it　threatened　to　pletely　destroy　his　hunter's　boots；　whose　soft　soles　were　already　badly　worn　by　climbing　on　rock。　To　save　his　feet　he　soon　had　to　go　back　to　the　parative　smoothness　of　the　road。
　　　For　half　an　hour　longer　he　kept　going；　alert　for　anything　that　looked　or　smelled　like　food；　and　wondering　when　the　newly　threatening　rain　was　going　to　break。　He　glanced　back　frequently　over　his　shoulder；　worried　about　the　Duke's　patrols。
　　　And　then　suddenly　he　was　indeed　being　overtaken；　by　two　mounted　men。　Obviously　they　had　already　spotted　Mark；　but　at　least　they　were　not　soldiers。　Their　riding…beasts　were　only　trotting；　giving　no　impression　of　actual　pursuit。　Still　they　were　quickly　catching　up。　The　men　were　both　in　moners'　dress；　very　little　different　from　Mark's　own。　Both　were　young；　both　spare　and　wiry　of　build。　And　both　wore　long　knives　sheathed　at　their　belts；　a　detail　that　Mark　supposed　was　mon　enough　out　here　in　the　great　world。　He　thought；　as　they　drew　near；　that　their　faces　were　reassuringly　open　and　friendly。
　　　〃Where　to；　youngster？〃　The　man　who　spoke　was　riding　a　little　in　advance　of　the　other。　He　was　also　slightly　the　bigger　of　the　two；　and　carrying　a　bigger　knife。　Both　men　smiled　at　Mark；　the　one　in　the　rear　thereby　demonstrating　that　he　had　lost　a　fair　number　of　his　teeth。
　　　Mark　had；　while　walking；　prepared　an　answer　for　that　question；　in　case　it　should　be　needed。　〃To　Sir　Andrew's　Green；〃　he　said。　〃I　hear　there's　to　be　a　fair。〃　It　was　mon　knowledge　that　Sir　Andrew　had　one　every　year；　military　and　economic　conditions　permitting。
　　　The　two　men　glanced　at　each　other。　They'd　slowed　their　mounts　now；　to　just　match　Mark's　steady　marching　pace。　〃Fairs　are　fun；〃　agreed　the　one　who　had　already　spoken。　〃And　at　Sir　Andrew's　gates　would　be　a　pleasant　place　to　bide；　in　these　times　of　unrest。〃　He　studied　Mark。　〃You'll　have　some　kin　there；　I　suspect？〃
　　　〃Aye；　I　do。　My　uncle's　an　armorer　in　the　castle。〃　This　answer；　too；　had　been　thought　out　in　advance。　Mark　hoped　it　would　put　him　in　the　shadow　of　the　distant　Sir　Andrew's　kind　protection　…　for　whatever　that　might　be　worth。
　　　It　was　still　the　same　man　who　did　the　talking。　〃An　odd…looking　bundle　you've　got　there　under　your　arm；　lad。　Might　you　be　taking　along　a　sword；　for　your　uncle　to　do　some　work　on　it？〃
　　　〃Yes；　that's　it。〃　Was　it　reasonable　that　the　man　had　guessed；　simply　from　looking　at　the　bundle；　what　it　contained？　Or　had　a　general　search　been　ordered；　rewards　posted；　for　a　fugitive　boy　carrying　a　sword？　Mark　turned　his　eyes　forward　and　kept　on　walking。
　　　The　talking　man　now　urged　his　riding…beast　ahead　of　Mark；　then　turned　it　crossways　to　the　road；　blocking　Mark's　path；　and　reined　it　to　a　halt。　〃I'll　take　a　look　at　your　sword；〃　he　said；　and　his　voice　was　still　as　easy　and　as　friendly　as　before。
　　　If　ever　the　time　had　been　when　wordplay　with　these　two　might　have　helped　Mark's　cause；　that　time　was　obviously　past。　He　skipped　into　a　run；　ignoring　their　cries　for　him　to　stop。　Bending　low；　he　ran　right　under　the　belly　of　the　leader's　mount；　making　the　animal　whine　and　rear。　Its　master　was　kept　busy　for　a　moment；　trying　to　do　no　more　than　retain　his　seat。　Meanwhile；　the　second　man；　urging　his　own　steed　forward；　found　his　panion　in　the　way。　Before　the　two　could　get　themselves　untangled　Mark　had　a　good　running　start　and　was　well　off　the　road。
　　　The　idea　that　he　might　be　able　to　run　faster　if　he　threw　away　the　sword　never　occurred　to　him；　even　though　its　awkward　weight　joggled　him　off　balance　and　slowed　him　down。　He　held　it　under　one　arm　and　ran　as　best　he　could。　Two　large　boulders　loomed　up　just　ahead　…　if　he　were　to　dash　between　them；　the　men　would　never　be　able　to　follow　him　mounted。　The　trouble　was　that　just　on　the　other　side　of　the　boulders；　open　country　stretched　away　indefinitely。　They'd　ride　around　the　obstacle　easily　and　catch　him　in　the　open；　before　he'd　had　a　long　enough　run　to　make　him　gasp。
　　　Mark　feinted　a　dart　between　the　rocks；　then　instead　tossed　his　sword　up　atop　the　highest　one　and　scrambled　up　after　it；　using　hands　and　feet　nimbly　on　tiny　projections　from　the　rock。　The　boulder　was　more　than　two　meters　high；　with　a　flat　top　surface　where　his　sword　had　landed。　Up　here　he'd　have　good　footing；　and　room　to　stand　and　swing　the　sword；　though　not　much　more。　As　his　pursuers　came　cantering；　outraged；　up　to　the　rock；　Mark　was　relieved　to　be　able　to　confirm　his　first　impression　that　they　were　carrying　no　missile　weapons；　slings　or　bows。　And　the　side　of　the　boulder　where　he'd　scrambled　up；　steep　as　it　was；　appeared　to　be　the　least　difficult　to　climb；　it　wouldn't　be　easy　for　them　to　e　at　him　from　two　directions。
　　　The　men　were　both　roaring　at　him　angrily。　Even　mounted　as　they　were；　their　heads　were　no　higher　than　the　level　of　Mark's　feet。　Ignoring　their　noise；　he　tugged　at　the　cord　that　bound　the　bundle。　The　sword　seemed　almost　to　leap　out　of　its　wrappings；　as　if　it　were　eager　to　be　used。　Still　no　sound　came　from　it；　no　sense　of　power　flowed；　it　balanced　well　in　Mark's　two…handed　grip；　but　remained　heavy　and　inert。
　　　The　men　below　fell　silent　as　he　held　up　the　blade。　He　was　ready　to　use　it　if　he　had　to；　his　stomach　clenching　now　like　a　fist；　with　feelings　worse　than　hunger。　The　men　were　jockeying　their　mounts　backward　now；　executing　a　minor　retreat。　Their　faces　as　they　looked　at　the　sword　showed　that　they　were　impressed　…　and　also；　Mark　thought；　that　they　were　not　surprised。
　　　〃Put　it　down；　kid；〃　urged　the　man　who　did　the　talking。　The　other　as　if　in　agreement　emitted　a　braying　sound；　and　Mark　understood　that　this　man　had　somehow　lost　his　tongue。　Mark　had　heard　the　same　kind　of　an　unpleasant　sound　before；　from　the　mouth　of　a　man　who　was　said　to　have　spread　nasty　stories　about　the　demise　of　the　father　of　the　present　Duke。
　　　〃Just　toss　it　down　to　us；　young　one；〃　the　speaker　said；　his　tone　encouraging。　〃We'll　take　it　and　go　on　our　way；　and　you　can　go　on　yours：〃　The　speaker　smiled。　He　sounded　as　if　he　might　even　believe　what　he　was　saying；　at　least　while　he　was　saying　it。
　　　Mark　said　nothing。　He　only　held　the　sword；　and　tried　to　be　ready　for　what　would　e。　The　terror　he