df.therunelords-第51部分

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camped　in　the　fields；　but　none　detained　him。　Shall　I　send　scouts　to　fetch　him　back？〃
　Raj　Ahten　frowned。　It　seemed　far　too　short　a　time　for　a　man　to　have　left　these　halls　and　escaped　the　castle。　And　it　was　equally　as　bizarre　that　none　of　Raj　Ahten's　highly　trained　soldiers　had　stopped　the　old　man。
　〃Did　he　reach　the　edge　of　the　forest？〃　Raj　Ahten　asked。
　〃Aye；　milord。〃
　〃What　is　he　planning？〃　Raj　Ahten　wondered　aloud。　He　stood　swiftly；　pondering。　Then　added；　〃Send　a　party　of　hunters　to　find　himif　they　can。〃
　But　Iome　knew　it　was　too　late。　Binnesman　had　gained　the　woods；　the　Dunnwood；　the　ancient　forest；　a　focus　for　the　earth　powers。　Even　Raj　Ahten's　most　acplished　hunters　could　not　track　an　Earth　Warden　through　the　Dunnwood。
　　
　Chapter　15
　POETICS
　　
　Once　the　trackers　left；　Gaborn　made　his　way　alongside　the　mill；　carrying　Rowan。　For　a　young　man　with　three　endowments　of　brawn；　she　did　not　pose　much　of　a　burden；　and　Gaborn　realized　that　carrying　her　now　offered　an　added　benefit：　she　would　not　leave　her　scent　on　the　ground。
　It　is　hard　to　track　a　man　who　has　just　left　a　river。　His　body　oils　get　washed　away；　so　that　when　he　steps　on　dry　land；　he　is　harder　to　smell。　Gaborn　wanted　to　leave　only　his　small　traces　of　scent。
　As　he　struggled　up　the　incline；　out　of　the　millrace；　the　ferrin　saw　him　ing；　growled　in　fear；　and　scurried　for　cover。
　〃Food；　food；〃　he　whistled；　for　these　creatures　had　performed　him　a　service。　How　great　a　service；　they　would　never　know。　Gaborn　had　little　food　to　give；　but　as　he　reached　the　mill；　he　lifted　the　wooden　latch　on　the　front　door；　went　in。　A　hopper　above　the　grindstones　was　filled　with　wheat。　Gaborn　opened　the　hopper；　turned　to　look　behind　him。　The　ferrin　stood　just　outside　the　door；　eyes　wide　in　the　darkness。　One　little　gray…brown　ferrin　woman　was　wringing　her　paws　nervously；　sniffing　the　air。
　〃Food。　I　give；〃　he　whistled　softly。
　〃I　hear　you；〃　she　chirped　in　return。
　Gaborn　slowly　walked　past　them；　left　the　ferrin　just　outside　the　door。　They　waited；　blinking　at　him　nervously；　afraid　to　enter　the　mill　with　him　watching。
　Gaborn　hurried　up　the　trail　to　the　castle；　under　the　trees；　then　crept　along　the　tree　line　until　he　reached　the　small　stream　that　wound　through　the　pussy　willows。
　Here；　he　slogged　through　the　marshes　quietly。　The　sky　was　red　on　the　hill　now；　and　the　archer　on　the　city　wall　stood　out　bright　against　the　sky。　He　was　watching　the　fire；　Binnesman's　garden　burning。　Ashes　drifted　slowly　through　the　air。
　Gaborn　crept　through　the　willows；　up　to　the　city　wall；　unseen。　At　the　wall；　he　set　Rowan　down　and　squirmed　under　first；　through　the　cold　water；　then　waited　for　Rowan。　She　wriggled　beneath　the　wall；　teeth　gritted　in　pain　at　the　touch　of　the　icy　water。　She　staggered　up　to　her　knees；　inside　the　castle　gate；　then　pitched　forward　in　a　faint。
　He　caught　her；　laid　her　in　the　grass　beside　the　stream。　He　took　off　his　dirty　cloak；　wrapped　it　around　her　for　what　little　warmth　it　could　give；　then　began　making　his　way　through　the　streets。
　It　was　an　odd　sensation；　walking　that　street。　Binnesman's　garden　was　afire；　the　flames　shooting　now　eighty　feet　into　the　air。　The　castle　was　alive　with　people　shouting；　running　to　and　fro；　afraid　the　fire　would　spread。
　On　the　street　leading　to　the　stables；　dozens　of　people　raced　past　Gaborn；　many　of　them　carrying　buckets　to　the　stream　so　that　they　could　douse　the　thatch　roofs　of　cottages；　protecting　them　from　falling　cinders。
　Yet　of　all　the　people　who　passed　Gaborn；　none　asked　his　name　or　sought　to　learn　why　he　carried　an　unconscious　woman。　Is　Earth　protecting　me；　he　wondered；　or　is　this　such　a　mon　sight　this　night　that　no　one　notices？
　Gaborn　found　the　spice　cellars　from　Rowan's　description。　It　was　a　fair…sized　building；　something　of　a　warehouse　whose　back　was　dug　into　the　hill。　A　loading　dock　by　the　wide　front　doors　was　just　the　height　of　a　wagon。
　Gaborn　cautiously　opened　the　front　door　into　an　antechamber。　The　scents　of　spices　assailed　himdrying　garlic　and　onions；　parsley　and　basil；　lemon　balm　and　mint；　geranium；　witch　hazel；　and　a　hundred　others。　The　cook's　son　was　supposed　to　be　sleeping　here。　A　pallet　lay　in　a　corner　with　a　blanket　over　it；　but　Gaborn　saw　no　sign　of　the　boy。　On　a　night　like　tonight；　with　soldiers　in　town　and　a　huge　fire　burning；　the　boy　was　probably　out　watching　the　sights　with　friends。
　A　wall　of　stone　and　mortar　stood　on　the　far　side　of　the　antechamber。　Gaborn　carried　Rowan　to　it；　opened　it　wide。　A　huge　chamber　was　behind　the　door。　A　lantern　hung　by　the　wall；　burning　low；　next　to　a　flask　of　oil　and　a　couple　of　spare　lanterns。　Gaborn　poured　oil　into　a　lantern　and　lit　the　wick　so　that　it　burned　brightly；　then　gaped。
　Gaborn　had　known　that　the　King　dealt　in　spices；　but　hadn't　guessed　how　much。　The　chamber　was　filled　to　the　brim　with　crates　and　sacks。　Off　to　the　left　were　mon　culinary　spices　in　huge　bins；　enough　to　supply　the　city　through　the　year。　Ahead　were　smaller　casks　of　Binnesman's　medicinal　herbs　and　oils；　ready　for　shipment。　To　the　far　right　lay　thousands　of　bottles　of　wine；　along　with　casks　of　ale；　whiskey；　and　rum。　The　chamber　must　have　reached　back　a　hundred　feet　into　the　side　of　the　hill。
　The　place　held　a　miasma　of　scentsspices　rotting；　spices　fresh；　dust　and　mold。　Gaborn　knew　he'd　found　safety。　Here　beneath　the　earth；　in　the　far　chambers　under　the　hill；　no　hunter　would　be　able　to　track　him。
　He　closed　the　great　door；　made　his　way　with　the　lantern　to　a　corner　of　the　cellar；　stacked　some　crates　to　form　a　little　hiding　place；　then　laid　Rowan　behind　them。
　He　lay　down　with　her；　warmed　her　with　his　body；　and　for　a　time　he　slept；　curled　against　her　back。
　When　he　woke；　Rowan　had　turned；　was　gazing　into　his　eyes。　He　felt　a　pressure　on　his　lips；　realized　that　she'd　just　kissed　him　awake。　She　breathed　softly。
　Rowan　had　dark　skin；　with　thick；　lustrous　black　hair　and　a　gentle；　caring　face。　She　was　not　beautiful；　he　decided；　merely　pretty。　Not　like　Iome；　or　even　Myrrima。　Both　of　those　women　were　blessed　with　endowments　that　made　them　more　than　human。　Both　of　them　had　faces　that　could　make　a　man　forget　his　name　or　haunt　him　for　years　after　a　mere　glimpse　of　them。
　She　kissed　him　again；　softly；　and　whispered；　〃Thank　you。〃
　〃For　what？〃　Gaborn　asked。
　〃For　keeping　me　warm。　For　bringing　me　with　you。〃　She　cuddled　closer；　spread　his　robe　over　them　both。　〃I've　never　felt　so。。。alive。。。as　I　do　right　now。〃　She　took　his　hand；　placed　it　on　her　cheek；　wanting　him　to　stroke　her。
　Gaborn　dared　not　do　it。　He　knew　what　she　wanted。　She'd　just　reawakened　to　the　world　of　sensation。　She　craved　his　caressthe　warmth　of　his　body；　his　touch。
　〃I。。。don't　think　I　should　do　this；〃　Gaborn　said；　and　he　rolled　away；　put　his　back　to　her。　He　felt　her　stiffen；　hurt　and　embarrassed。
　He　lay　for　a　moment；　ignoring　her；　then　reached　into　the　pocket　of　his　tunic；　pulled　out　the　book　that　King　Sylvarresta　had　given　him　earlier　in　the　day。　The　Chronicles　of　Owatt；　Emir　of　Tuulistan。
　The　lambskin　cover　on　it　was　soft　and　new。　The　ink　smelled　fresh。　Gaborn　opened　it；　fearing　he　wouldn't　be　able　to　read　the　language。　But　the　Emir　had　already　translated　it。
　On　the　cover　leaf；　in　a　broad；　strong　hand；　he'd　written；
　To　my　Beloved　Brother　in　Righteousness；　King　jas　Laren　Sylvarresta；　greetings：　It　has　been　eighteen　years　now　since　we　dined　together　at　the　oasis　near　Binya；　yet　I　think　fondly　on　you　often。　They　have　been　hard　years；　full　of　trouble。　I　give　you　one　last　gift：　this　book。
　I　beg　of　you；　show　it　only　to　those　you　trust。
　Gaborn　wondered　at　the　warning。　After　running　out　of　space　at　the　bottom　of　the　page；　the　Emir　had　not　bothered　to　sign　his　name。
　Gaborn　calmed　himself；　prepared　to　memorize　everything　in　the　hook。　With　two　endowments　of　wit；　it　was　a　daunting　task；　but　not　impossible。
　He　read　swiftly。　The　first　ten　chapters　told　of　the　Emir's　lifehis　youth；　his　marriage　and　family　connections；　details　of　laws　he　had　authored；　deeds　he　had　done。　The　next　ten　told　of　ten　battles　fought　by　Raj　Ahten；　campaigns　against　entire　royal　families。
　The　Wolf　Lord　began　destroying　the　smaller　families　of　Indhopal　first；　those　most　despised。　He　worked　not　to　take　a　castle　or　to　bankrupt　a　city；　but　t