fs.thefirstbookofswords-第7部分

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pointed　to　the　east。　〃Yes　sir；　from　up　there。〃
　　　The　seneschal；　who　was　about　to　ask　another　question；　paused。　For　Kenn　was　ing　back　already。　He　was　carrying　the　sword　in　its　usual　corded　wrapping；　in　which　it　usually　hung　on　the　wall　of　the　main　living　room　inside　the　house。　Kenn　was　walking　now；　not　running。　And　he　was　not　ing　back　alone。　Jord；　his　solid　frame　taller　still　than　that　of　his　slim…bodied　elder　son；　strode　with　him。　Jord's　legs　kept　up　in　a　firm　pace　with　the　youth's　nervous　half…trot。
　　　Jord's　work　clothes　were　dusty；　as　they　so　often　were　from　his　usual　routine　of　maintenance　on　the　huge　wooden　gears　and　shafts　that　formed　the　central　machinery　of　the　mill。　He　glanced　once　at　Mark　…　Mark　could　read　no　particular　message　in　the　look　…　and　then　concentrated　his　attention　on　the　important　visitors。　Jord　seemed　reluctant　to　approach　them；　but　still　he　came　on　with　determination。　At　the　last　moment　he　put　his　big　hand　on　Kenn's　shoulder　and　thrust　the　youth　gently　into　the　background；　stepping　forward　to　face　the　important　men　himself。
　　　Jord　bowed　to　the　visitors；　as　courtesy　required。　But　still　it　was　to　Kyril　the　Elder　that　he　first　spoke。　〃Where's　Sir　Sharfa？　It's　to　him　that　we　in　the　village　must　answer；　for　whatever　we　do　when　other　highborn　folk　e　here　and…〃
　　　He　who　had　been　called　the　seneschal　interrupted；　effectively　though　with　perfect　calm。　〃Sir　Sharfa's　not　available　just　now；　fellow。　Your　loyalty　to　your　manorlord　is　mendable；　but　in　this　case　misplaced。　Sir　Sharfa　is　vassal；　as　you　ought　to　know；　to　my　cousin　the　Duke。　And　it's　Duke　Fraktin　who　wants　to　see　the　sword　that　you've　kept　hanging　on　the　wall。〃
　　　Jord　did　not　appear　tremendously　surprised　to　hear　of　the　Duke's　interest。　〃I　have　been　told；　Your　Honor；　to　keep　that　sword　with　me。　Until　the　time　es　for　it　to　be　passed　on　to　my　eldest　son。〃
　　　〃Oh？　Told？　And　who　told　you　that？〃
　　　〃Vulcan；　Your　Honor。〃　The　words　were　plainly　and　boldly　spoken。　Jord's　calm　assurance　matched　that　of　the　man　who　was　interrogating　him。
　　　The　seneschal　paused；　whatever　words　he'd　been　intending　to　fire　off　next　were　never　said。　Still　he　was　not　going　to　let　himself　appear　to　be　impressed　by　any　answer　that　a　mere　miller　could　return　to　him。　Now　Ibn　Gauthier　extended　one　arm；　hand　open；　rich　sleeve　hanging　deeply；　toward　Kenn。　The　youth　was　still　standing　in　the　background　where　his　father　had　steered　him；　and　was　still　holding　the　wrapped　blade。
　　　The　seneschal　said　to　him：　〃Well　see　it　now。〃
　　　Kenn　glanced　nervously　toward　his　father。　Jord　must　have　signalled　him　to　obey；　for　the　lad　tugged　at　the　wrapping　of　the　sword　…　a　neatly　woven　but　undistinguished　blanket　…　as　if　he　intended　to　display　the　treasure　to　the　visitors　from　a　safe　distance。
　　　The　covering　of　the　sword　fell　free。
　　　The　seneschal　stared　for　a　moment；　then　snapped　his　fingers。　〃Give　it　here！〃
　　　What　happened　in　the　next　moment　would　recur　in　Mark's　dreams　throughout　the　remainder　of　his　life。　And　each　time　the　dream　came　he　would　experience　again　this　last　moment　of　his　childhood；　a　moment　in　which　he　thought：　Strange；　whatever　can　be　making　a　sound　in　the　air　like　flying　arrows？
　　　The　Elder　Kyril　went　down　at　once；　with　the　feathered　end　of　a　long　shaft　protruding　from　his　chest。　At　the　same　time　one　of　the　armed　guards　fell；　arrows　in　his　back　and　ribs；　his　sword　only　a　glint　of　steel　half…drawn　from　its　scabbard。　The　second　guard　was　hit　in　the　thigh；　he　got　his　spear　raised　but　could　do　no　more。　The　wizard　went　down　an　instant　later；　with　his　blue　robes　collapsing　around　him　like　an　unstrung　tent。　The　seneschal。　uninjured；　whirled　around；　drawing　his　own　short　sword　and　getting　his　back　against　a　wall。　His　face　had　gone　a　pasty　white。
　　　The　volley　of　arrows　had　e　from　Mark's　right；　the　direction　where　trees　and　bush　grew　close　and　thick　along　the　near　bank　of　the　Aldan。　The　ambushers；　whoever　they　were；　had　been　able　to　get　within　easy　bowshot　without　being　detected。　But　they　were　charging　out　of　cover　now；　running　between　and　around　the　houses　closest　to　the　riverbank。　A　half…dozen　howling；　weapon…waving　men　were　rushing　hard　toward　the　Elder's　front　yard；　where　the　victims　of　their　volley　had　just　fallen。　Two　large　warbeasts　sprang　out　of　concealment　just　after　the　attacking　men；　but　bounded　easily　ahead　of　them。　One　beast　was　orange…furred　and　one　brindled；　and　both　of　their　bodies；　like　those　of　fighting　men；　were　partially　clothed　in　mail。　They　were　nearly　as　graceful　as　the　cats　from　which　half　their　ancestry　derived。
　　　Mark　had　never　seen　real　warbeasts　before；　but　he　recognized　them　at　once；　from　the　descriptions　in　a　hundred　stories。　He　saw　his　father　knocked　down　by　the　orange　beast　in　its　terrible　passage；　before　Jord　had　had　time　to　do　more　than　turn　toward　his　elder　son　as　if　to　cry　an　order　or　a　warning。
　　　The　seneschal　was　the　beasts'　real　target。　and　they　leaped　at　him；　though　not　to　kill；　they　must　have　been　well　trained　for　this　action。　They　forced　the　Duke's　cousin　back　against　the　front　of　fallen　Kyril's　house；　not　touching　but　confronting　him；　snarling　and　sparring　just　outside　the　tentative　arc　of　his　swordarm。　When　he　would　have　run　to　reach　his　tethered　ridingbeast；　they　forced　him　back　again。　Now　all　four　of　the　tethered　animals　at　the　rack　were　kicking　and　bucking；　screaming　their　fear　and　excitement　in　their　nearhuman　voices。
　　　Kenn；　in　the　first　instant　of　the　attack；　had　turned　to　run。　Then　he　had　seen　his　father　fall；　and　had　turned　back。　White…faced；　he　stood　over　his　father　now；　clumsily　holding　the　unwrapped　sword；　with　the　blade　above　the　fallen　man　as　if　it　could　be　made　into　a　shield。
　　　Mark；　who　had　run　two　steps　toward　home；　looked　back　at　his　father　and　his　brother　and　stopped。　Now　with　shaking　fingers　Mark　was　pulling　the　next…to…last　small　hunting　arrow　from　the　quiver　on　his　back。　His　rabbit…hunting　bow　was　in　his　left　hand。　His　mind　felt　totally　blank。　He　prehended　without　emotion　that　a　man；　the　soldier　who'd　fallen　with　an　arrow　in　his　leg；　was　being　stabbed　to　death　before　his　eyes。　Now　the　charging　men；　bandits　or　whatever　they　were；　had　joined　their　warbeasts　in　a　semicircle　round　the　beleaguered　seneschal；　and　were　calling　on　him　to　throw　down　his　sword　and　surrender。
　　　But　one　of　the　attackers'　number　had　turned　aside　from　this　important　business；　and　was　about　to　deal　with　the　yokel　who　still　stood　holding　a　sword。　The　bandit　grinned；　probably　at　the　inept　way　in　which　Kenn's　hands　gripped　the　weapon；　still　grinning；　he　stepped　forward　with　his　short　spear　ready　for　a　thrust。
　　　At　that　point　Mark's　shaking　fingers　fumbled　away　the　arrow　that　he　had　just　nocked。　He　knelt；　in　an　uncontrolled　movement　that　was　almost　a　collapse；　and　with　his　right　hand　groped　in　the　dust　of　the　road　for　the　arrow。　He　was　unable　to　take　his　eyes　from　what　was　about　to　happen　to　his　brother。
　　　A　moaning　had　for　some　moments　been　growing　in　the　air；　the　sound　of　some　voice　that　was　not　human；　perhaps　not　even　alive。　The　sound　rose；　quickly；　into　a　querulous；　unbreathing　shriek。
　　　It　issued；　Mark　realized；　from　the　sword　held　in　his　brother's　hands。　And　a　visual　phenomenon　had　grown　in　the　air　around　the　sword。　It　was　not　exactly　as　if　the　blade　were　smoking；　but　rather　as　if　the　air　around　it　had　begun　to　burn；　and　the　steel　was　drawing　threads　of　smoke　out　of　the　air　into　itself。
　　　The　spearthrust　came。　The　sound　in　the　air　abruptly　swelled　as　the　spear　entered　the　swifter　blur　made　by　the　sideways　parry　of　the　sword。　Mark　saw　the　spearhead　spinning　in　midair；　along　with　a　handsbreadth　of　cleanly　severed　shaft。　And　before　the　spearhead　fell；　Townsaver's　backhanded　passage　from　the　parry　had　torn　loose　the　chainmail　from　the　spearman　s　chest；　bursting　fine　steel　links　into　the　air　like　a　handful　of　summer　flowers'　fluff。　The　same　sweep　of　the　swordpoint　caught　the　small　shield　strapped　to　the　man's　left　arm；　and　with　a　bonebreak　snap　dragged　him　crying　into　the　air　behind　its　arc。　His　body　was　dropped　rolling　in　the　dust。
　　　Now　Mark's　groping　fingers　found　his　dropped　arrow；　and　he　rose　with　it　in　his　hand。　He　could　feel　his　own　body　moving　with　what