fs.thefirstbookofswords-第22部分

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t　ready　for　harvest　alternated　with　woodlands　and　pastures。　Nestor　had　driven　through　one　small　village　already。
　　　〃Sometime　tomorrow；〃　said　Nestor　shortly。　〃Maybe　sooner。〃　The　fog　had　lifted　pletely　now；　and　he　was　busier　than　ever　being　sharp…eyed。　When　Mark　asked　some　more　questions　about　the　dragon；　he　was　told　that　they　were　taking　it　to　the　fair　on　Sir　Andrew's　green；　where　it　ought　to　earn　some　coin　as　an　exhibit。　It　would　also；　Mark　gathered；　serve　to　advertise　Nestor's　skill　in　the　hunt。　Sir　Andrew　was　a　Fen　Marcher；　which　meant　he　had　territory　abutting　the　Great　Swamp。　He　and　some　of　his　tributary　towns；　Mark　was　told；　had　chronic　dragon　problems。
　　　Mark；　thinking　about　it；　had　trouble　picturing　one　man；　however　strong　and　skilled　and　brave；　just　going　out　and　hunting　dragons　as　if　they　were　rabbits。　From　the　stories　he'd　heard；　real　dragon　hunts　were　vast　enterprises　involving　numbers　of　trained　beasts　and　people。　And　Nestor　might　be　brave　and　skilled；　but　he　didn't　look　all　that　strong。　Ben；　of　course；　looked　strong　enough　for　two　at　least。
　　　As　the　afternoon　passed；　Nestor　drove　more　slowly；　and　appeared　to　be　even　more　anxious　about　seeing　what　was　on　the　winding　road　ahead　of　him。　Passing　a　pack　toting　peddler　who　was　ing　from　the　other　direction；　he　slowed　still　more　to　ask　the　man　a　question：　〃Soldiers？〃
　　　The　wink　and　faint　nod　that　he　got　in　return　were　apparently　all　the　answer　Nestor　needed。　He　turned　off　the　road　at　the　next　feasible　place；　and　jounced　across　an　unfenced　field　to　a　side　lane。
　　　〃Just　as　soon　not　meet　any　of　the　Duke's　soldiers；〃　he　muttered；　as　if　someone　had　asked　him　for　an　explanation。　〃There's　a　creek　down　this　way　somewhere。　Maybe　the　water's　low　enough　to　ford。　On　the　other　side's　Blue　Temple　land；　if　I　remember　right。〃
　　　There　was　no　problem　in　finding　the　creek　which　meandered　across　flat　and　largely　neglected　farmland。　Locating　a　place　where　it　could　readily　be　forded　was　somewhat　harder。　Nestor　sent　Ben　and　Barbara　to　scout　on　foot；　upstream　and　down；　and　eventually　succeeded。　Once　on　the　other　side；　he　sighed　with　relief　and　drove　the　wagon　as　deep　as　possible　into　a　small　grove；　not　stopping　till　he　was　out　of　sight　of　Duke　Fraktin's　side　of　the　stream。　Then　he　announced　that　it　was　time　to　set　up　camp。　Ben　and　Barbara　immediately　swung　into　a　well…practiced　routine；　tending　the　loadbeasts　and　starting　to　gather　some　wood　for　a　fire。
　　　As　Mark　began　to　lend　a　hand；　Nestor　called　him　aside。　〃Einar；　you　e　with　me。　We　need　some　more　frogs　for　the　dragon；　and　I've　a　special　way　of　catching　them　that　I　want　to　show　you。〃
　　　〃All　right。　I'll　bring　my　bow；　maybe　we'll　see　a　rabbit。〃
　　　〃It'll　be　getting　dark　for　shooting。　But　fetch　it　along。〃
　　　From　the　back　of　the　wagon　Nestor　dug　out　what　looked　to　Mark　like　a　rather　ordinary　fishnet；　of　moderately　fine　mesh。　On　the　wooden　rim　were　symbols　that　Mark　supposed　might　have　some　magical　significance；　though　often　enough　such　decorative　efforts　had　no　real　power　behind　them。　With　Nestor　carrying　the　net　beside　him；　Mark　trudged　into　the　trees；　an　arrow　nocked　on　his　bow。　They　followed　the　general　slope　of　the　land　back　down　to　the　creek　bed。
　　　As　they　walked；　Nestor　asked：　〃Einar；　what's　your　uncles　name？　The　one　who's　armorer　for　Sir　Andrew。　I　might　know　him。〃
　　　〃His　name's　Mark。〃　At　least　he　said　it　quickly；　this　was　one　answer　he　hadn't　thought　out　in　advance。
　　　〃No。　I　don't　know　him。〃　A　cloudy　twilight　was　oozing　up　out　of　the　low　ground。　They　had　reached　the　creek　bank　without　spotting　any　rabbits　or　other　game；　and　Mark　put　away　his　bow　and　arrow。
　　　〃Anyway；〃　said　Nestor；　〃that　sword　of　yours　didn't　look　like　it　needed　a　lot　of　work。〃　He　was　studying　the　stream　as　he　spoke；　and　it　was　impossible　to　tell　from　his　voice　what　he　was　thinking。　Stepping　carefully　now　from　one　stone　to　another；　he　worked　his　way　out　near　the　middle　of　the　stream；　where　he　positioned　his　net　in　a　strong　flow　of　water；　catching　the　wooden　frame　on　rocks　so　it　would　be　held　in　place。　He　straightened　up；　stretching　his　back；　still　seeming　to　study　the　water's　flow。　〃Didn't　you　say　that　your　uncle　was　going　to　work　on　it？〃
　　　Mark　hesitated；　finally　got　out　a　few　lame　words。
　　　Nestor　did　not　seem　to　be　paying　very　close　attention　to　what　he　said　this　time。　〃Or；　maybe　you've　given　some　thought　to　selling　your　sword　at　the　fair。　That　would　be　a　good　time　and　place；　if　you　mean　to　sell　it。　Honest　business　dealings　are　more　likely　under　Sir　Andrew's　eye　than　elsewhere。　There　might　even　be　one　or　two　people　there　who　could　buy　such　a　thing。〃
　　　〃I　wouldn't　know　how　to　sell　it。　And　anyway；　I　wouldn't　want　to。　It　was　my　father's。〃　All　of　that　was　the　truth；　which　made　it　a　relief　to　say。
　　　〃A　sword　like　that；　I　suppose　it　must　have　some　special　powers；　as　well　as　being　beautiful　to　look　at。〃　Nestor　was　still　gazing　at　the　stream。
　　　Mark　was　silent。
　　　Nestor　at　last　looked　at　him　directly。　〃Would　you　get　it　now？　Bring　it　here；　and　let　me　have　a　look　at　it？〃
　　　Mark　could　think　of　no　decent　way　to　refuse。　He　turned　away　wordlessly　and　trudged　back　to　the　wagon。　He　could　grab　his　sword　when　he　got　there　and　run　away　again；　but　sooner　or　later　he　was　going　to　have　to　trust　someone。
　　　He　found　Ben　and　Barbara　engaged　in　what　looked　like　a　tricky　business。　They　had　removed　the　dragon's　cage　from　the　wagon　and　were　cleaning　the　cage　while　its　occupant　shrilled　at　them　and　tried　to　claw　and　bite　them。　They　looked　at　Mark　curiously　when　he　climbed　into　the　wagon；　and　again　when　he　emerged　with　his　wrapped　sword　in　hand。　But　they　said　nothing　to　him。
　　　Darkness　was　thickening　in　the　grove　when　Mark　brought　the　sword　back　to　Nestor；　who　was　sitting　on　a　rock　beside　the　stream　and　appeared　to　be　lost　in　meditation。　But　the　wiry　man　roused　quickly　enough；　took　the　sword　on　his　lap　and　undid　its　wrappings　carefully。　There　was　still　enough　light　for　a　fairly　close　inspection。　Nestor　sighted　along　the　edge　of　the　blade；　and　then　tried　it　with　a　leaf。　Brushed　lightly　along　the　upright　edge；　the　leaf　fell　away　in　two　neat　halves。
　　　With　one　finger　Nestor　traced　the　subtle　pattern　on　the　hilt。　Then；　acting　as　if　he　had　reached　a　decision；　he　let　Mark　hold　the　sword　for　a　moment　and　got　to　his　feet。　Lifting　his　net　from　the　water；　he　peered　into　the　mass　of　small；　struggling　creatures　it　had　captured。　The　net　held；　thought　Mark；　a　surprising　weight　of　swimming　and　crawling　things；　perhaps　the　magical　symbols　round　the　rim　really　were　effective。
　　　Nestor　plunged　his　hand　into　the　mass；　pulled　out　one　wriggling　thing；　and　let　the　rest　sag　back　into　the　water。　〃Baby　dragon；〃　he　said；　holding　up　a　fistful　of　feebly　squirming　gray　for　Mark's　inspection。　There　were　no　wings；　and　the　creature　was　vastly　smaller　than　the　one　back　in　the　cage。　〃You　find　'em　in　a　lot　of　the　streams　hereabouts。　There's　a　million；　ten　million；　hatched　for　every　one　that　ever　grows　big　enough　to　need　hunting。〃
　　　Then　he　surprised　Mark　by　taking　Townsaver　back　again。　Nestor　held　the　blade　extended　horizontally；　flat　side　up；　and　on　that　small　plain　of　metal　he　set　the　hatchling　dragon。　Freed　of　his　grip；　it　hissed　an　infinitesimal　challenge；　and　lashed　a　tiny　tail。　Nestor　rotated　the　blade；　slowly　turning　it　edge…side　up；　somehow　the　creature　continued　to　cling　on。　Its　scales；　though　no　bigger　than　a　baby's　fingernails　and　paper…thin；　could　protect　it　from　that　cutting　edge。　It　hissed　again　as　the　sword　pleted　a　half…rotation；　once　more　giving　the　dragon　a　flat　space　to　rest　upon。
　　　Nestor　contemplated　this　result　for　a　moment；　as　if　it　were　not　at　all　what　he　had　been　expecting。　Then　with　a　small　flick　of　his　wrist　he　dashed　the　tiny　creature　to　the　ground；　and　in　the　next　moment　he　killed　it　precisely　with　the　sword；　letting　the　weight　of　the　weapon　fall　behind　the　point。　Nestor　handled　the　sword；　thought　Mark；　as　if　it　had　been　in　his　hand　for　years。
　　　〃One　less　to　grow　up；〃　said　Nestor；　turning　his　thoughtful　gaze　toward　Mark。　With　the　sword　point　still　down　in　the　soil　at　his　feet；　he　leaned　the　hilt　back　to　Mark；　giving　the　sword　back。　〃First　dragon　this　sword　has　ever　killed；　do　you