df.therunelords-第85部分

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at　would　crash　down　deep　in　some　trough；　perhaps　be　submerged　forever。
　That　was　how　Borenson　felt　now；　submerged；　drowning；　hoping　to　keep　afloat。　The　whole　notion　of　sending　one　man　to　storm　a　Dedicates'　Keep　was　a　long　shot。　In　all　probability；　Borenson　would　arrive　at　the　keep；　find　it　well　guarded；　and　have　to　retreat。
　But　he　knew；　he　knew；　that　even　if　he　had　only　a　slim　chance　of　breaking　into　the　keep；　he'd　have　to　take　it。
　When　the　storm　passed　that　evening；　he　still　sat　unmoving；　listening　to　the　stealthy　water　dripping　from　trees；　the　creaking　of　branches　in　the　wind。　He　smelled　the　leaf　mold；　the　rich　soil　of　the　forest；　the　clean　scent　of　the　land。　And　ashes。
　Murdering　Dedicates　did　not　sit　well　with　him。　Borenson　tried　to　harden　his　resolve　for　long　hours；　imagining　how　it　might　beclimbing　the　walls　in　the　escalade；　battling　guards。
　Borenson　imagined　riding　into　the　castle；　going　to　the　gates　of　the　Dedicates'　Keep；　and　riding　down　any　defenders；　then　discharging　his　duty。
　Such　an　attack　would　seem　heroic；　would　likely　get　him　killed。　He　wanted　to　do　it；　to　finish　this　horrible　task。　He　would　have　gladly　made　a　suicide　charge；　if　not　for　Myrrima。
　If　he　tried　to　enter　the　keep　during　daylight；　he'd　jeopardize　his　mission。　What's　more；　even　if　he　gained　entry　into　the　keep　and　managed　to　slaughter　the　Dedicates；　he'd　then　be　forced　to　return　to　his　king　and　report。。。what　took　place　between　him　and　Gaborn；　and　tell　why　he'd　let　Sylvarresta　live。
　Borenson　could　not　stomach　the　thought。　He　couldn't　lie　to　King　Orden；　pretend　he　hadn't　seen　Gaborn。
　So　he　watched　the　sun　drop　in　the　west；　spreading　gold　all　through　the　clouds；　even　as　another　storm　blew　in。
　He　fetched　his　horse　and　rode　to　the　hill　south　of　Castle　Sylvarresta。
　I　am　not　death；　he　told　himself；　though　he　had　long　trained　to　be　a　good　soldier。　He'd　bee　a　fine　warrior；　in　every　detail。　Now　he　would　play　the　assassin。
　An　image　flashed　in　his　mind；　five　years　past；　when　Queen　Orden　was　murdered　in　bed　with　her　newborn　babe。　Borenson　had　tried　to　impale　the　fellowa　huge　man　who　moved　like　a　serpent；　a　man　in　black　robes；　face　covered。　But　the　assassin　had　escaped。
　It　hurt　terribly　to　remember　such　things。　It　hurt　worse　to　know　that　he　would　now　go　the　nameless　assassin　one　better。
　As　he　neared；　Borenson　saw　that　few　guards　walked　the　walls　of　Castle　Sylvarresta　tonight。　Sylvarresta's　loyal　soldiers　had　been　decimated；　Raj　Ahten　had　left　no　one　to　guard　the　empty　shell　of　a　city。　Borenson　could　not　spot　a　single　man　on　the　walls　of　the　Dedicates'　Keep。
　It　saddened　him。　Old　friendsCaptain　Auk；　Sir　Vonheis；　Sir　Cheathamshould　have　been　on　those　walls。　But　if　they　lived；　now　they　resided　in　the　Dedicates'　Keep。　He　remembered　three　years　past；　when　he'd　brought　molasses　to　the　hunt　and　had　strewn　it　in　a　trail　through　the　woods；　leading　to　Derrow's　feet；　then　smeared　the　captain's　boots。
　When　he'd　awakened　to　find　a　she…bear　licking　his　feet；　Derrow　had　roused　the　whole　camp　with　his　cry。
　Borenson　took　out　the　white　flask　of　mist；　pulled　the　stopper；　and　let　the　fog　begin　to　flow。
　So　it　was　that　half　an　hour　later；　he　laid　aside　his　armor；　and　went　to　make　a　lone　escalade。　He　climbed　the　Outer　Wall　on　the　west　side　of　the　city；　protected　by　the　fog　that　crept　over　with　him。
　Then　he　made　his　way　to　the　inner　wall；　the　King's　Wall；　and　scampered　over　quickly。　Only　a　single　young　man　had　walked　that　wall；　and　he'd　turned　his　back　for　the　moment。
　Borenson　reached　the　base　of　the　Dedicates'　Keep　near　midnight；　warily　watched　it。　He　did　not　trust　his　eyes；　worried　that　guards　might　be　secreted　in　the　King's　towers。　So　he　scaled　its　wall　from　the　north；　ing　at　it　by　way　of　the　woods　in　the　tombs；　where　few　prying　eyes　might　spot　him。
　Rain　pelted　the　keep；　making　it　difficult　to　find　purchase　between　the　stones。　Borenson　spent　long　minutes　clinging　to　the　wall　before　he　reached　the　top。
　There；　he　found　that　the　wall…walks　really　were　all　unmanned；　but　as　he　scurried　down　the　steps　into　the　inner　court；　he　spotted　two　city　guardsyoung　men　with　few　endowmentshuddled　away　from　the　drenching　rain　in　the　protection　of　the　portcullis。
　In　a　moment　when　lightning　filled　the　sky；　he　rushed　them；　slaughtered　them　as　thunder　shook　the　keep；　so　that　no　one　heard　their　cries。
　Even　as　he　killed　the　young　men；　Borenson　wondered。　Not　one　Invincible？　Not　one　man　to　guard　all　these　Dedicates？
　It　felt　like　a　trap。　Perhaps　the　guards　hid　among　the　Dedicates。
　Borenson　turned　and　looked　at　the　rain…slicked　stones　in　the　keep。　The　lights　were　out　in　the　great　rooms；　though　a　lantern　still　burned　in　the　kitchens。　A　wild　wind　burst　through　the　portcullis；　swept　through　the　bailey。
　There　was　an　art；　a　science　to　killing　Dedicates。　Some　of　the　Dedicates　in　there；　Borenson　knew；　would　be　guards　themselves；　men　like　him　who　had　dozens　of　endowments　of　their　own　and　long　years　of　practice　in　weaponry。　They　might　be　crippleddeaf　or　blind；　mute　or　without　a　sense　of　smellbut　they　could　be　dangerous　still。
　So；　when　slaughtering　Dedicates；　mon　sense　dictated　that　you　avoid　such　men；　kill　first　those　who　served　as　their　Dedicates；　weakening　the　more　dangerous　foes。
　Thus；　you　began　by　slaughtering　the　women；　and　the　young。　You　always　sought　to　kill　the　weakest　first。　If　you　killed　a　man　who　had　twenty　endowments；　suddenly　you　would　find　that　twenty　Dedicates　would　waken；　who　could　sound　alarms　or　fight　you　themselves。
　Though　it　might　be　tempting　to　spare　one　or　two　Dedicates；　the　truth　was　that　if　you　did；　they　might　call　for　guards。　So　you　killed　them　all。
　You　murdered　moners　who　had　only　given　endowments；　never　received。　And　you　started　at　the　bottom　of　the　keep；　blocking　all　exits；　and　worked　your　way　to　the　upper　stories。　Unless；　of　course；　someone　in　the　keep　was　awake。
　I　had　best　begin　in　the　kitchen；　Borenson　told　himself。　He　took　the　dead　gatekeeper's　key　and　locked　the　portcullis；　so　no　one　could　enter　the　keep　or　escape；　then　went　to　the　kitchen。　The　door　stood　locked；　but　he　set　the　prong　of　a　warhammer　in　its　crack。　With　endowments　of　brawn　from　eight　men；　it　was　no　great　feat　to　pry　the　door　free　from　its　hinges。
　When　he　rushed　into　the　kitchens；　he　found　a　lowly　girl　who'd　been　left　to　sweep　the　floor；　long　into　the　night。　A　young　thing；　perhaps　ten；　with　straw…blond　hair。　He　recognized　the　childthe　serving　girl　who'd　catered　to　Princess　Iome　last　Hostenfest。　Too　young　to　have　given　an　endowment；　he'd　have　thought。　Certainly　Sylvarresta　would　never　have　taken　one　from　her。
　But　Raj　Ahten　has　been　here；　Borenson　realized。　The　girl　had　given　an　endowment　to　him。
　When　she　saw　Borenson　in　the　doorway；　she　opened　her　mouth　to　scream。　Nothing　came　out。
　A　mute　who　had　endowed　Voice　on　her　lord。
　Almost；　Borenson　did　not　have　the　strength　to　carry　his　plan　through。　He　felt　sickened。　But　he　was　a　good　soldier。　Had　always　been　a　good　soldier。　He　couldn't　let　the　little　thing　wriggle　through　the　wet　bars　of　the　portcullis　and　summon　help。　Though　this　child　would　die；　her　sacrifice　could　save　thousands　of　lives　in　Mystarria。
　He　rushed；　grabbed　the　broom　from　the　girl's　hand。　She　tried　to　shriek；　tried　to　yank　free　from　his　grasp。　She　clawed　at　a　table；　overturned　a　bench　in　her　terror。
　〃I'm　sorry！〃　Borenson　said　fiercely；　then　snapped　her　neck；　not　wanting　to　make　the　girl　suffer。
　He　gently　laid　her　corpse　to　the　ground；　heard　a　thumping　sound　in　the　butteryback　in　the　shadows　thrown　by　the　lamplight。　Another　young　girl　stood　back　there；　black　eyes　shining　in　the　darkness。
　In　all　his　heroic　imaginings　this　day；　he'd　not　envisioned　thisan　unguarded　keep；　where　he　would　have　to　slaughter　children。
　Thus　began　the　most　gruesome　night　of　Borenson's　life。
　　
　Chapter　31
　A　TIME　FOR　QUESTIONS
　　
　As　the　horses　raced　through　the　woods；　beneath　the　black　trees；　Binnesman　held　his　staff　high；　shining　its　dim　light　for　all　to　see　by。　Yet　the　very　act　seemed　tiring；　and　Binnesman　looked　drained；　old。
　The　trees　whipped　past。
　Gaborn　had　a　thousand　questions；　felt　as　many　uncertainties。　He　wished　to　speak　to　Binnesman。　But　for　now　he　held　back　his　questions。　In　Mystarria　it　was　considered　rud