df.therunelords-第67部分

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　The　Prince　had　passed　through　the　herbalist's　garden；　so　that　his　natural　scent　lay　masked　under　layers　of　rosemary；　jasmine；　grasses；　and　other　rich　fragrances。　Raj　Ahten's　own　men　had　tramped　here　by　the　dozens　last　night；　further　fouling　the　trail。
　The　more　he　tasted　the　air；　the　more　elusive　the　scent　seemed。
　But　none　of　his　hunting　dogs　could　track　as　well　as　Raj　Ahten　did。　So　the　Wolf　Lord　knelt　in　the　loam；　sniffing　tenderly；　dismissing　some　scents；　seeking　for　that　which　was　Gaborn。　He　crawled　forward；　searching　for　a　vestige　of　Gaborn　among　the　trees。　Perhaps　the　young　man　had　brushed　a　vine　maple；　or　touched　the　bole　of　an　alder。　If　he　had；　his　scent　would　cling　to　the　spot。
　Raj　Ahten　found　no　scent　near　the　blood；　but　found　something　nearly　as　interesting：　the　earthy　musk　of　a　young　woman；　a　maid　who　worked　the　kitchens。　Odd　that　none　of　his　hunters　had　mentioned　the　scent。　It　might　be　nothing；　or　it　might　be　a　woman　who　acpanied　the　Prince。
　Raj　Ahten　suddenly　stood　upright；　startled。　A　half…dozen　finches　in　a　nearby　tree　took　flight　at　the　movement。　Raj　Ahten　listened　to　a　soft　wind　blow　through　the　trees。　He　recognized　the　girl's　scent；　had　smelled　it
　This　morning。
　He'd　passed　her　on　Market　Street；　just　outside　the　King's　Keep。
　Raj　Ahten　had　endowments　of　wit　from　over　a　thousand　men。　He　recalled　every　beat　of　his　heart；　remembered　every　word　ever　uttered　to　him。　He　visualized　the　woman　now；　at　least　the　back　of　her　head。　A　shapely　young　thing；　in　a　hooded　robe。　Her　long　hair　a　deep　brunette。　She'd　been　next　to　a　statue　of　gray　stone。　Once　again；　he　felt　an　odd　sensationa　peculiar　muzziness　of　thought。
　Butno；　he　suddenly　realized。　It　could　not　have　been　a　statue。　The　thing　had　moved。　Yet　when　he'd　passed　it；　he'd　had　the　impression　of　stone。
　He　tried　to　recall　the　statue's　face；　to　imagine　the　thing　he'd　passed　as　living　flesh。　But　he　could　not　see　it；　could　not　visualize　it。　A　statue　of　a　boya　faceless；　plain…looking　lad　in　a　dirty　robe。
　They'd　stood　in　the　streets　near　where　his　pyromancer　had　been　murdered。
　But　wait；　Raj　Ahten　had　it　nowthe　scent。　He　recalled　their　smell。　Held　it　in　his　mind。　Yes；　it　was　here　in　the　woods。　And　he'd　smelled　it　at　the　stable。　The　young　man　Raj　Ahten　had　seen　at　the　stable；　minutes　ago。
　Raj　Ahten　could　remember　everything　he'd　seen　in　years。　Now　he　tried　to　dredge　up　the　lad's　face；　to　see　him　there　in　the　stables。
　Instead；　he　saw　the　image　of　a　tree：　a　great　tree　in　the　heart　of　the　wood　at　dusk；　so　vast　that　its　swaying　branches　seemed　to　reach　up　and　capture　the　stars。
　It　was　so　peaceful　under　that　tree；　watching　it；　that　Raj　Ahten　raised　his　hands；　felt　the　warmth　of　the　starlight　touching　his　own　hands；　penetrating　them。
　He　longed　to　be　that　tree；　swaying　in　the　wind。　Unmoved；　unmovable。　Nothing　more　than　trunk　and　roots；　reaching　deep　into　the　soil；　tendrils　of　root　tickled　by　the　passing　of　countless　worms。　Breathing　deep。　The　birds　soaring　through　his　limbs；　nesting　in　the　crooks　of　branches；　pecking　at　grubs　and　mites　that　hid　in　the　folds　of　his　bark。
　Raj　Ahten　stood；　breath　suspended；　among　the　trees　of　the　forest；　looking　down　on　his　smaller　brothers；　tasting　the　wind　that　meandered　slowly　above　him　and　through　him。　All　cares　ceasing。　All　hopes　and　aspirations　fading。　A　tree；　so　peaceful　and　still。
　Ah；　to　stand　thus　forever！
　Fire　blossomed　in　his　trunk。
　Raj　Ahten　opened　his　eyes。　One　of　his　flameweavers　stood　glaring　at　him；　had　prodded　him　with　a　hot　finger。
　〃Milord；　what　are　you　doing？　You've　been　standing　here　for　five　minutes！〃
　Raj　Ahten　drew　a　deep　breath　of　surprise；　looked　at　the　trees　around　him；　suddenly　uneasy。　〃I。。。Gaborn　is　still　here　in　the　city；〃　Raj　Ahten　said。　Yet　he　could　not　describe　the　boy；　could　not　see　his　face。　He　concentrated；　and　saw　in　rapid　succession　a　stone；　a　lonely　mountain；　a　gorge。
　Why　can　I　not　see　his　face？　Raj　Ahten　wondered。
　Then　he　looked　up　at　the　trees　around　him；　and　knew。　A　small　band　of　trees；　narrow　along　the　river。　A　finger　of　the　Dunnwood。　But　powerful；　nonetheless。　〃Set　fire　to　this　wood；〃　he　told　the　flameweaver。
　Raj　Ahten　raced　for　the　city　gates；　hoping　he　was　not　too　late。
　Sweat　poured　from　Gaborn's　face　as　he　urged　the　horses　through　the　lower　bailey。　Thousands　of　troops　clogged　the　gates。
　Five　hundred　knights　milled　outside　the　city　wall。　Their　warhorses　wore　the　finest　armor　Sylvarresta's　smiths　could　forge；　blackened　and　polished。　Another　thousand　archers　stood　ready　near　the　walls　with　bows　strung；　should　an　army　race　out　from　the　woods。
　Yet　the　fact　that　so　many　men　had　already　left　the　castle　did　not　ease　the　congestion。　Thousands　of　soldiers　did　not　travel　pletely　alonesquires；　cooks；　armorers；　tailors；　bearers；　fletchers；　prostitutes；　washwomen　all　thronged　the　streets。　Raj　Ahten　had　seven　thousand　soldiers　in　his　legion；　but　his　camp　contained　another　thousand　followers。　Armorers　dressed　the　horses　in　the　bailey。　Children　darted　about　underfoot。　Two　cows　had　run　down　the　Butterwalk　and　now　tramped　through　the　crowd。
　In　the　turmoil；　Gaborn　rode　from　the　castle；　trailing　Iome's　mount；　her　father's；　and　those　of　two　Days；　trying　to　keep　his　horse　from　kicking　and　biting　every　soldier　who　wore　the　red　wolves　of　Raj　Ahten　on　his　shield　or　surcoat。
　One　dark…faced　sergeant　grabbed　the　reins　of　Gaborn's　horse；　shouting；　〃Give　me　horse；　boy。　I　take　that　one！〃
　〃Raj　Ahten　told　me　to　keep　the　reins　myself；〃　Gaborn　said。　〃It's　for　Jureem。〃
　The　sergeant　drew　back　his　hand　as　if　the　words　burned　him；　eyed　the　horse　longingly。
　Gaborn　rode　through　the　press　of　bodies；　toward　the　throng　of　soldiers　gathering　on　the　blackened　grass　outside　Castle　Sylvarresta。　He　held　the　line　to　the　King's　horse　tightly；　glanced　back。
　The　idiot　king　smiled　at　everyone；　waving；　his　mouth　wide　with　joy。　Gaborn's　own　mount；　with　its　surly　nature；　waded　through　the　masses；　breaking　a　path　for　the　horses　that　followed。　Iome's　and　King　Sylvarresta's　Days　trailed　last。
　Near　the　blackened　gates；　everyone　sought　to　surge　across　the　damaged　drawbridge。　One　side　had　burned　through　from　the　elemental's　fires；　but　had　been　hastily　repaired。
　〃Make　way　for　the　King's　mounts！　'Ware　the　King's　mounts！〃　Gaborn　shouted。
　Gaborn　eyed　the　city　walls　as　he　passed　beneath　the　portal。　Archers　everywhere　guarded　the　outer　wall；　but　most　foot　soldiers　had　deserted　their　posts。
　Then；　suddenly；　he　passed　under　the　main　arch。　Gaborn　did　not　entirely　trust　the　ruined　bridge　to　hold　the　weight　of　both　his　people　and　their　horses。　A　few　planks　had　been　thrown　over　the　rent；　but　they　looked　flimsy；　so　he　dismounted；　had　Iome　do　the　same。　As　for　the　King；　he　left　the　man　mounted　and　cautiously　walked　each　horse　across；　then　entered　the　throng　of　soldiers　milling　about　in　the　charred　grass。
　Raj　Ahten's　soldiers　nervously　watched　the　hills；　anxious　to　be　on　their　way。　The　troops　bunched　together；　as　men　do　when　fearful。　The　sounds　of　King　Orden's　hunting　horns　less　than　an　hour　before　had　put　them　in　a　grim　mood。
　Iome　crossed　the　bridge；　and　Gaborn　helped　her　back　into　the　saddle；　then　led　her　mount　over　the　dirt　road；　holding　the　reins　to　his　own　horse；　as　if　he　were　but　a　stableman　delivering　the　animals。
　From　behind　him　came　a　sudden　motion。　A　strong　voice　shouted；　〃You；　Prince　Orden！〃
　Gaborn　leapt　a　horse；　with　a　kick　spurred　the　beast；　shouting；　〃Game　ho！〃　His　mount　surged　forward　so　hard　that　Gaborn　nearly　fell　from　the　saddle。
　He'd　taken　his　mounts　from　Sylvarresta's　hunting　stables；　trusting　they　were　trained　for　the　chase。　At　his　mand；　the　horses　ran　like　the　wind。　These　were　horses　bred　for　the　woods；　strong　of　leg；　deep　of　chest。
　Some　quick…thinking　soldier　leapt　in　Gaborn's　path；　battle…axe　half…drawn。　〃Strike！〃　Gaborn　shouted；　and　his　horse　leapt　and　lashed　out　with　a　forehoof；　dashing　the　warrior's　head　open　with　the　rim　of　its　iron　shoe。
　From　atop　the　castle　wall；　Raj　Ahten　cried；　〃Stop　them！　Hold　them！　Before　they　reach　the　woods！〃　His　voice　echoed　from　the　hills。
　Then　Gaborn　reached　the　fields；　with　Iome　shouting　and　racing　beside；　clutching　the　reins　to　her　father's　mount。
　Behind　them；　the　pair　of　Days　had　not　spurred　forward。　One　so