fs.thefirstbookofswords-第20部分

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　　　Mark　said　nothing。　He　only　held　the　sword；　and　tried　to　be　ready　for　what　would　e。　The　terror　he　had　known　on　the　mountain；　after　throwing　away　the　sword；　did　not　return　now；　though　the　weapon　in　his　hands　still　felt　devoid　of　power。
　　　His　enemies　were　two；　and　they　were　men　full　grown。　Both　of　them　had　now　drawn　their　knives；　functional…looking　weapons　worn　with　sharpening　and　use。　Yet　the　two　men　did　not　immediately　try　to　swarm　up　onto　the　rock。　Instead　they　still　watched　the　sword。　They　remained　at　a　little　distance；　still　mounted；　conferring　between　themselves　with　quick　signs　and　whispers。
　　　Then　the　one　who　could　speak　rode　right　up　to　the　rock　again。　〃Get　down　here　right　now；　kid。〃　His　voice　was　now　hard　and　tough；　utterly　changed　from　what　it　had　been。　〃If　I　have　to　e　up　there　after　you；　I'll　kill　you：〃
　　　Mark　waited。
　　　The　man；　moving　with　an　appearance　of　great　purpose；　swung　himself　lithely　out　of　his　saddle　and　onto　the　side　of　the　boulder　at　the　place　where　Mark　had　climbed。　But　when　Mark　standing　atop　the　great　rock　took　a　step　toward　him　with　lifted　sword；　he　hastily　dropped　to　the　ground　and　backed　away。
　　　They　know　what　sword　I　have　here；　thought　Mark。　They　know　what　it　can　do。　The　Duke　has　spread　the　word；　and　he's　offering　a　reward。　But　still　the　weapon　in　Mark's　hands　felt　totally　dead。　Was　there　some　incantation　he　had　to　utter；　something　he　had　to　do　to　call　out　the　magic？　What　had　Kenn　been　saying；　doing；　just　before　the　fight？　Mark　thought　that　a　less　magical　person　than　his　brother　had　probably　never　lived。
　　　If　the　two　men　were　not　going　to　leap　bravely　to　the　attack；　neither　were　they　about　to　give　up。　Both　mounted　again；　they　rode　side　by　side　all　around　the　rocks　where　Mark　had　taken　his　position；　scouting　out　his　strongpoint。　They　took　their　time　about　making　a　plete　circle　of　the　boulders；　pausing　now　and　then　to　exchange　a　whisper　and　a　nod。
　　　Mark　watched　them。　He　could　think　of　nothing　else　to　do。　He　still　had　his　bow　slung　on　his　back；　and　a　few　arrows　left。　But；　looking　at　the　men's　faces；　marking　how　their　eyes　kept　ing　back　to　the　sword；　he　felt　it　would　be　a　bad　mistake　to　put　it　down。　It　was　their　fear　of　the　sword　that　held　them　back。
　　　As　if　he　had　been　reading　Mark's　thought；　the　speaker　called　to　him　suddenly：　〃Put　it　down；　boy；　and　let's　talk。　We're　not　meaning　to　do　you　any　harm！〃
　　　〃If　that's　so；　then　put　your　own　blades　down　and　ride　away。　This　one　is　mine。〃
　　　Presently　the　two　did　sheathe　their　knives　again；　and　rode　away　a　little　distance　toward　the　road；　and　Mark's　heart　dared　to　rise。　But　as　soon　as　the　pair　were　out　of　easy　earshot　they　stopped　for　another　conference。　This　one　lasted　for　several　minutes。　Mark　could　see　the　gestures　of　the　speechless　man；　but　could　not　read　their　meaning。　And　Mark's　heart　sank　again　when　the　two　dismounted；　tied　their　animals　to　a　bush　as　if　preparing　for　a　long　stay；　and　then　strolled　back　in　his　direction。　Now　the　speechless　one；　moving　with　a　casualness　that　would　not　have　fooled　a　child　half　Mark's　age；　ambled　on　past　the　high　rocks。　Soon；　with　a　very　casual　turn　at　some　meters'　distance；　he　had　put　himself　on　the　opposite　side　of　the　high　rocks　from　his　friend　and　the　road。
　　　Meanwhile　the　talking　man　was　trying　to　keep　Mark's　attention　engaged。　〃Youngster；　there's　a　reward　offered　for　that　sword　you　got。　We　could　talk　about　splitting　it　between　us。　You　know；　half　for　you　and　half　for　us。　And　you　to　go　on　free；　of　course。〃
　　　The　first　rock　thrown　by　the　speechless　one　missed　Mark　by　a　wide　margin。　Actually　the　speaker　on　the　road　side　of　the　rocks　had　to　step　out　of　the　way　of　it　himself。　Mark　could　see　in　the　speaker's　face　how　he　winced；　out　of　embarrassment　at　his　partner's　clumsiness。　Mark　had　to　turn　halfway　round；　to　maim　sure　that　he　was　able　to　dodge　the　second　thrown　stone。　Then　he　had　to　face　back　toward　the　road　again；　because　the　man　who　talked　had　once　more　drawn　his　knife；　and　was　gamely　trying　again　to　scramble　up　the　rock。
　　　As　Mark　moved　forward　to　counter　this　frontal　attack；　a　third　thrown　stone　went　past　his　head；　a　little　closer　than　the　previous　two。　The　climber；　once　more　seeing　Townsaver　right　above　his　head；　dropped　off　the　boulder's　flank　as　he　had　before。　Again　Mark　spun　around；　in　time　to　dodge　another　missile。
　　　A　sound　that　had　begun　some　time　ago　now　registered　in　his　attention；　growing　louder。　It　was　the　rumble　of　wagon　wheels；　drawing　nearer　with　fair　speed。　And　now　the　wagon　came　into　sight；　moving　southbound　on　the　road；　pulled　by　two　loadbeasts　and　approaching　at　a　brisk　pace。　On　the　wagon's　cloth　sides　large　symbols　were　rather　crudely　painted。　Mark　had　seen　the　wagons　of　tinkers；　priests；　and　peddlers　decorated　with　signs　meant　for　advertisement　and　magic；　but　never　signs　like　these。　Dancing　on　his　boulder；　he　had　no　time　to　puzzle　about　meanings　now；　but　sang　out　for　help　as　loudly　as　he　could。
　　　An　open　seat　at　the　front　of　the　wagon　held　three　people；　the　one　in　the　middle　being　a　young　woman。　All　three　faces　were　turned　toward　the　fight；　but　for　a　moment　it　appeared　that　the　wagon　was　going　to　rush　straight　on　past。　It　did　not。　Instead　the　driver；　another　wiry　man　somewhat　older　than　Mark's　assailants；　cried　out　to　his　team　and　reined　in　sharply　on　one　side。　The　vehicle　had　already　passed　the　rocks；　but　now　it　swerved　sharply　and　came　back；　leaving　the　road　in　a　sharp；　tilting　turn。
　　　When　the　man　at　the　foot　of　the　rock　saw　this；　he　set　up　his　own　cry　for　aid。　〃Help！　We　got　us　a　runaway　and　a　thief　treed　here。　There's　a　reward；　that's　a　stolen　weapon　he's　got　in　his　hands。〃
　　　His　voiceless　associate；　running　back　from　the　far　side　of　the　rocks；　grunted　and　waved　his　arms；　achieving　nothing　but　a　short　distraction。　While　Mark；　in　outrage　momentarily　greater　even　than　his　fear；　yelled：　〃Not　so！　It's　mine！〃
　　　The　wagon　had　braked　to　a　halt　in　a　swirl　of　dust；　a　pebble's　toss　from　where　Mark　stood。　The　wiry　man　who　gripped　the　reins　now　had　his　eyes　raised　judgmatically　toward　Mark；　thinking　things　over　before　he　acted。　The　girl　in　the　middle　of　the　seat　had　straight　black　hair；　cut　short；　and　a　round；　button…nosed；　somehow　impertinent　face；　looking　full　of　life　if　not　exactly　pretty。　On　the　other　side　of　her；　the　seat　sagged　under　a　heavy…set　youth　who　wore　a　minstrel's　plumed　cap；　and　a　look　of　no　great　intelligence　upon　his　almost　childish　face。　In　his　thick　fingers　this　youth　was　nursing　a　lute；　which　instrument　he　now　slowly　and　carefully　put　back　into　the　covered　rear　portion　of　the　wagon。
　　　In　the　momentary　silence；　a　thin　whining　sound　arose　from　somewhere；　to　fade　out　again　as　abruptly　as　it　had　begun。　Mark's　hopes　soared　for　an　instant；　but　the　sound；　whatever　it　had　been；　had　not　proceeded　from　the　sword。
　　　His　enemy　who　could　speak　still　urged　the　wagondriver：　〃Help　us　get　him　down；　and　we'll　split　the　reward。〃
　　　Mark　pleaded　loudly：　〃I'm　no　runaway；　they're　trying　to　rob　me。　This　sword　is　mine。〃
　　　〃Reward？〃　asked　the　wiry　driver。　He　squinted　from　one　to　another　of　the　two　men　on　foot。
　　　The　spokesman　nodded。　〃Split　'er　right　down　the　middle：'
　　　〃Reward　from　who？〃
　　　〃Duke　Fraktin　himself。〃
　　　The　driver　nodded　slowly；　ing　to　his　conclusion。　He　looked　up　once　more　at　the　anguished　Mark；　then　shook　his　head。　〃Fetch　out　the　crossbow；　Ben　…　go　on；　do　it；　I　say。〃
　　　The　crossbow　produced　by　the　large　youth　from　inside　the　wagon　was　bigger　than　any　similar　weapon　in　Mark's　limited　experience。　He　could　feel　his　inward　parts　constricting　at　the　very　sight　of　it。　Ben　cocked　it　with　a　direct　pull；　not　using　stirrup　or　crank；　and　without　apparent　effort。　Then　he　loaded　a　bolt　into　the　groove；　and　handed　the　weapon　to　the　driver。
　　　〃Now；〃　said　the　driver；　in　his　most　reasonable　voice　yet。　And　with　a　faint　smile　he　laid　his　aim　directly　on　the　man　who　was　standing　closest　to　his　wagon。　〃You　and　your　partner；　mount　up。　And　ride　away。〃
　　　The　man　who　was　looking　at　the　wrong　end　of　the　crossbow　turned　color。　He　made　a　tentative　motion　with　his　knife；　then　put　it　back　into　its　sheath。　He　stuttered　over　an　argument；　then　gave　it　up　in　curses。　Meanwhile　his　speechles