df.therunelords-第122部分

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　Cedrick　nodded　vigorously。
　〃There　are　many　kinds　of　heroes；　many　forms　of　loyalty；〃　Raj　Ahten　said。　〃Do　not　regret　your　decision。〃
　He　turned　to　walk　back　to　his　pavilion　on　the　hill；　stopped　to　clean　the　gore　from　the　blade　of　his　scimitar　on　a　dead　man's　cape。　He　considered　his　next　move。　His　forcibles　were　goneto　Mystarria；　perhaps；　or　any　of　a　hundred　keeps。　His　reinforcements　were　late。　An　army　was　marching　on　him。
　Yet　he　had　a　new　weapon；　one　that　might　yet　win　the　day；　beyond　all　hope　or　expectation。
　The　men　closest　to　Raj　Ahten　had　taken　great　damage　from　his　cry；　as　did　men　with　but　a　few　endowments　of　stamina。　Raj　Ahten　dared　not　use　his　weapon　too　near　his　own　men。　Which　meant　that　if　he　sought　to　kill　Gaborn　by　the　power　of　his　Voice；　he'd　have　to　stand　alone。
　A　few　small　flakes　of　snow　began　to　fall　from　the　leaden　skies；　swirling　at　his　feet。　He　had　not　noticed　how　cold　it　had　bee。
　He　studied　the　damage　to　Castle　Longmont　from　outside。　Cracks　had　broken　the　walls；　splitting　the　stone　in　numerous　places。　Massive　walls　of　black　stone　nearly　a　hundred　feet　tall　still　loomed　above　him。　The　foundation　stones　were　thirty　feet　thick；　fourteen　feet　wide；　twelve　feet　tall。　Each　stone　weighed　thousands　of　tons。　This　fortress　had　stood　for　centuries；　indomitable。　He'd　seen　the　wards　of　earth…binding　on　its　gates。
　His　flameweavers'　most　powerful　spells　could　hardly　pierce　the　walls。　His　catapults　hadn't　chipped　them。　Yet　his　voice　had　rent　some　of　the　massive　foundation　stones。
　Even　Raj　Ahten　marveled。　It　was　not　clear　yet　what　he　was　being。　He'd　taken　Castle　Sylvarresta　with　nothing　more　than　the　power　of　his　glamour。　Now　he　found　that　his　Voice　was　being　a　potent；　dazzling　weapon。
　In　his　realms　to　the　south；　Dedicates　died　from　moment　to　moment；　while　new　ones　were　recruited。　The　configuration　of　his　attributes　was　always　in　flux。　But　of　one　thing　he　felt　certain：　More　endowments　were　being　added　than　were　lost。　He　was　being　added　upon。　Being　the　Sum　of　All　Men。
　Perhaps　now　was　the　time　to　face　this　young　foolthe　Earth　King　and　his　armies。　Raj　Ahten　glowered。
　He　turned　and　gave　a　great　roar；　threw　his　voice　against　the　near　wall。　〃I　am　mightier　than　the　earth！〃
　Longmont　crackedthe　whole　southern　wall　shuddered。　Cedrick　Tempest　fell；　too；　running　from　the　gate；　clutching　his　helm；　curling　in　on　himself　when　he　could　run　no　more。
　To　Raj　Ahten's　dismay；　the　upper　half　of　the　Duke's　Keep　crumbled　to　the　left。　Some　of　his　men　screamed　within　the　castle　as　the　building　collapsed　on　them。　It　was　as　if　the　wards　of　earth　power　that　bound　the　castle　crumbled；　leaving　the　keep　in　ruin。
　At　the　same　time；　on　the　hill　behind　him；　Raj　Ahten　heard　a　branch　crack。
　He　turned；　glimpsed　the　great　oak　by　his　pavilion。　The　trunk　of　the　great　oak　snapped。。。and　half　of　the　tree　crashed　through　the　roof　of　his　Dedicates'　wagon。
　In　that　moment；　Raj　Ahten　felt　a　dozen　small　deaths；　the　dizzying　breathlessness　that　acpanied　the　loss　of　virtue。
　The　world　slowed　terrifyingly。　For　long　years；　Raj　Ahten　had　brought　his　wagon　with　him。　In　it　he　bore　Dervin　Feyl；　a　man　who　had　bequeathed　Raj　Ahten　an　endowment　of　metabolism　many　years　back；　had　bee　a　vector。
　Dervin　had　just　died；　along　with　the　Dedicate　who　vectored　glamour　to　Raj　Ahten；　and　several　other　minor　men。
　Raj　Ahten　marveled　at　his　sudden　sluggishness。　Did　my　Voice　smite　the　tree；　or　does　Earth　seek　to　punish　me？　he　wondered。
　Did　the　earth　strike　at　me？　He　had　no　way　to　answer　the　question。　Yet　it　mattered　a　great　deal。　The　wizard　Binnesman　had　cursed　him；　seemingly　with　no　effect。　Had　the　wizard's　curse　weakened　that　tree？
　Or　had　his　own　Voice　been　his　downfall？
　Such　a　small　blow。　Yet　so　profoundly　effective。
　Raj　Ahten　wondered；　but　at　that　moment；　it　no　longer　mattered。　Raj　Ahten；　despite　his　victory　at　Longmont；　stood　defeated。　Though　he　had　the　wit　and　grace　and　brawn　of　thousands；　without　his　speed　he'd　bee　a　〃warrior　of　unfortunate　proportion。〃　Even　a　mon　soldier；　some　boy　without　endowments；　might　be　able　to　slaughter　him。
　If　Gaborn　came　against　him　with　the　speed　of　even　five　men　and　endowments　of　stamina　from　another　five；　Raj　Ahten　could　not　prevail　against　him。
　Raj　Ahten　cast　his　eyes　about　in　desperation。　His　flameweavers　had　burned　themselves　out。　His　forcibles　were　gone。　The　salamanders　had　returned　to　the　netherworld；　and　would　not　be　summoned　easily　for　a　long　while。　His　arcane　explosive　powders　were　all　used　up。
　I　came　to　destroy　Orden　and　Sylvarresta；　he　thought；　and　that　much　I've　acplished。　But　in　doing　this；　I've　created　a　greater　enemy。
　It　was　time　to　flee　Longmont；　flee　Heredon　and　all　the　Kingdoms　of　Rofehavan　while　he　reconsidered　his　tactics。　At　this　moment；　despite　whatever　other　victories　his　men　might　win　here　in　the　North；　he　could　feel　the　Kingdoms　of　Rofehavan　all　slipping　from　his　grasp。
　Raj　Ahten　had　his　endowments；　thousands　upon　thousands　of　them。　But　his　mines　were　petering　out；　and　his　forcibles　were　in　the　hands　of　his　enemy。　Whatever　gifts　he　had　now；　the　young　king　might　soon　match。
　Raj　Ahten　felt　utterly　dismayed。
　The　snow　was　blowing。　The　first　snow　Raj　Ahten　would　see　this　winter。　In　a　few　weeks；　the　passes　in　the　mountains　would　be　blocked。
　He　could　continue　this　contest　later；　he　reasoned。　Shocked。　He　dreaded　the　thought　of　waiting　until　spring。
　He　shouted　orders　for　his　men　to　begin　the　retreat；　leaving　no　time　to　loot　the　castle。
　He　stood　for　several　long　minutes　as　his　soldiers　scrambled　to　obey；　pulling　down　pavilions；　harnessing　the　horses；　loading　wagons。
　The　Frowth　giants　emerged　from　the　castle；　bearing　corpses　of　defenders　in　their　paws　to　eat　on　the　way　home。　Along　the　western　hills；　wolves　howled　mournfully；　as　if　in　loss　at　the　sight　of　Longmont　in　ruins。
　Raj　Ahten's　counselor；　Feykaald；　shouted　in　a　high　voice；　〃Move；　you　sluggards！　Leave　the　dead！　You；　therehelp　load　those　wagons！〃
　The　snow　thickened。　In　moments　it　piled　two　inches　deep　at　Raj　Ahten's　feet。　He　only　stood；　gazing　at　Castle　Longmont。　He　wondered　how　he　had　failed　here；　considered　how　Jureem　had　betrayed　him　to　King　Orden。
　When　he　finished　musing；　Castle　Longmont　lay　dead。　No　fires　burned　in　it；　no　men　cried　out　in　pain。
　Cedrick　Tempest　wandered　before　the　gates；　the　lone　soldier　holding　his　bleeding　ear；　cursing　and　muttering　under　his　breath。　Perhaps　his　mind　had　gone。
　Raj　Ahten　took　a　horse；　considered　again　how　the　wizard　Binnesman　had　stolen　his；　and　rode　over　the　hills。
　　
　Chapter　56
　THE　GREETING
　　
　By　the　time　Gaborn　reached　Longmont；　the　land　lay　empty　of　troops；　the　ruins　of　the　castle　covered　beneath　a　layer　of　new…fallen　snow。
　Most　of　Gaborn's　army　was　still　far　behind。　Only　some　fifty　knights　rode　mounts　swift　enough　to　keep　up。　In　the　woods　to　the　west；　wolves　howled　forlornly；　their　voices　rising　and　falling　in　eerie　cadences。
　Binnesman　had　ridden　ahead；　rummaged　near　the　ruins　of　the　Dedicates'　Keep；　searching　among　the　rubble。
　Everywhere　lay　carnage　and　destructionwalls　and　towers　of　Longmont　in　ruin；　the　soldiers　of　Orden　crumpled　under　stone。　Only　a　dozen　or　so　of　Raj　Ahten's　troops　lay　dead　outside　the　castle；　riddled　with　arrows。
　Raj　Ahten　had　carried　off　a　great　victory　here；　a　mind…numbing　victory；　almost　unparalleled　in　any　chronicle　Gaborn　had　ever　read。　For　the　past　hour；　Gaborn　had　tried　to　deny　his　feelings；　his　suspicion　that　his　father　had　died。　Now　he　feared　the　worst。
　Only　one　warrior　stood　alive　on　the　battleground；　a　captain　who　wore　the　colors　of　Longmont。
　Gaborn　rode　up　to　him。　The　soldier's　face　was　pale；　his　eyes　full　of　horror。　Blood　dribbled　under　his　helmet　from　his　right　ear　and　had　crusted　in　the　dark　hair　of　his　sideburns。
　〃Captain　Tempest；〃　Gaborn　asked；　recalling　the　man's　name　from　earlier　in　the　day；　〃where　is　my　father；　King　Orden？〃
　〃Dead；　mi…milord；〃　the　captain　said；　then　sat　down　in　the　snow；　his　head　hanging。　〃They're　all　dead。〃
　Gaborn　had　expected　it。　Yet　the　news　punched　him。　He　put　one　hand　over　his　belly；　found　himself　breathing　hard。　I　was　no　help；　he　thought。　Everything　I've　done　has　been　in　vain。
　He　surveyed　the　damage；　his　shock　and　horror　growing　more　profound。　H