fs.thesecondbookofswords-第9部分

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　　　When　he　had　climbed　a　little　farther　still；　Ben　paused　to　look　upward　again。　Yes；　from　here　on　the　slope　was　definitely　gentler；　and　he　had　no　doubt　that　he　could　climb　it。　He　could　even　see　a　short　stretch　of　what　looked　like　a　genuine　trail；　up　there　near　the　top。
　　　Ben　climbed　another　hundred　steps　and　stopped　to　scan　the　way　ahead　again。　This　time　he　received　something　of　a　shock。　Right　beside　that　upper　trail；　in　a　spot　where　no　one　had　been　a　few　moments　ago；　a　man　was　now　sitting　on　a　squarish　stone；　gazing　out　to　sea。
　　　The　man　appeared　to　be　taking　no　notice　of　Ben；　and　as　far　as　Ben　could　tell　he　was　not　armed。　His　body　was　wrapped　in　a　plain　gray　cloak　that　effectively　concealed　whatever　else　he　might　be　wearing。　The　cloak　at　least　didn't　look　like　part　of　any　soldier's　or　priest's　uniform　that　Ben　was　familiar　with。　Maybe　the　watcher　was　not　a　sentry；　but　he　was　in　a　place　that　a　sentry　might　well　choose。　And；　should　he　be　minded　for　some　reason　to　dispute　Ben's　passage　up　the　steep　slope；　his　position　would　give　him　a　definite　advantage。
　　　There　was　nothing　for　Ben　to　do　but　climb　on；　meanwhile　thinking　what　he　ought　to　say　to　the　man　when　he　came　near。　It　occured　to　Ben　that　he　might　represent　himself　as　a　shipwrecked　mariner；　just　cast　ashore　at　the　foot　of　these　cliffs　after　clinging　for　days　to　a　bit　of　wreckage。　No　notion　of　where　he　was　…　yes；　that　was　the　idea。　A　story　like　that　might　well　be　accepted；　the　gods　knew　that　Ben　was　wet　and　weary　enough　for　it　to　fit　him。
　　　The　man　who　sat　alone　on　the　rock　did　not　look　down　at　Ben　until　Ben　was　only；　a　few　meters　below　him。　But　when　he　did　look　it　was　without　surprise；　as　if　he'd　known　all　along　that　Ben　was　there。
　　　〃Hello！〃　the　watcher　called　down　then。　He　was　a　nondescript　sort　of　fellow　in　appearance；　smiling　and　openly　cheerful。　At　close　range　his　gray　cloak　looked　old　and　worn。
　　　〃Hello！〃　Ben　called　back。　Something　in　him　had　wanted　to　respond　at　once　to　the　lightheartedness　of　the　other's　greeting；　and　as　his　voice　came　out　he　thought　it　sounded　too　cheerful　for　the　tale　of　woe　he　had　to　tell　…　though　on　second　thought　he　supposed　that　any　shipwrecked　sailor　who　came　to　shore　alive　might　have　good　reason　to　sound　happy。
　　　Ben　climbed　closer。　The　man　continued　to　regard　him　with　a　smile。　Not　quite；　thought　Ben；　like　an　idiot。
　　　Drawing　even　with　the　man　at　last；　and　no　longer　at　the　disadvantage　of　the　steep　slope；　Ben　felt　confident　enough　to　pause　to　regain　his　breath。　Between　slow　gasps　he　asked：　〃Whose　lands　have　I　arrived　at；　sir？〃　He　was　ready　now　with　some　details　of　his　shipwreck；　should　they　be　required。
　　　The　man's　smile　faded　to　friendly　seriousness。　〃The　Emperor's；〃　he　said。
　　　Ben　stood　there　looking　at　him。　If　the　answer　had　been　seriously　meant；　Ben　could　derive　no　sense　from　it　at　all。　The　Emperor　was　a　proverbial　figure　of　fun　and　ridicule；　and　hardly　anything　more。　Of　course；　if　Ben　thought　about　it；　he　supposed　that　a　real　man　afflicted　with　that　title　might　still　exist　somewhere　in　the　world。　But。。。　a　landowner？　The　Emperor　was　a　clown…masked　caperer　through　jests　and　stories；　a　player　of　practical　jokes；　the　proverbial　father　of　the　wretched　and　the　unlucky。　He　was　just　not　someone　that　you　thought　of　as　owning　land。
　　　With　a　small　shake　of　his　head；　Ben　climbed　on　a　few　more　steps；　just　high　enough　to　let　him　see　inland　over　the　final　sharp　brink　of　the　cliff。　He　warily　kept　half　an　eye　on　his　panion　as　he　did　so。
　　　He　didn't　know　quite　what　he　had　expected；　but　the　view　inland　surprised　him。　Beginning　from　the　barren　cliff…face's　very　edge；　a　lush　meadow　sloped　inland；　knee…deep　with　dewy　grass　arid　wildflowers；　to　end　in　an　abrupt　semicircle　where　a　stately　grove　or　forest　began；　about　a　hundred　meters　inland。　Neither　meadow　nor　forest　showed　any　signs　of　human　use。
　　　Ben　said：　〃Well；　the　cliff　here　is　certainly　poor　enough　to　be　the　Emperor's　wall。　But　someone　else　must　lay　claim　to　this　meadow；　and　to　the　wood　yonder。〃
　　　The　fellow　sitting　on　the　rock　looked　quite　grave　when　he　heard　this。　He　gazed　back　at　Ben　but　did　not　answer。　Ben；　deciding　that　he　did　not　need　the　plications　of　a　debate　with　some　stray　madman；　climbed　the　last　three　steps　to　stand　gratefully　in　soft　grass。　He　saw　now　that　the　meadow　formed　a　rough　triangle；　and　he　was　standing　very　near　its　seaward　point。　Not　enjoying　this　exposed　position　on　the　cliff's　edge；　he　at　once　walked　inland；　heading　for　the　baseline　of　the　woods。
　　　After　the　long　struggling　climb；　it　was　a　joy　to　take　swift　steps　through　soft　grass　on　almost　level　land。　Patches　of　mist　were　rolling　up　over　the　edge　of　the　cliff；　as　if　determined　to　acpany　Ben　inland。　Fieldnesting　birds；　clamoring　as　if　they　were　unused　to　disturbance；　flew　up　from　almost　under　his　feet。
　　　He　reached　the　trackless　grove；　and　entered　it。　There　was　little　undergrowth　and　he　moved　swiftly。　And　now；　almost　before　he'd　had　time　to　wonder　how　far　the　wood　extended；　he　was　confronted　by　a　high　wall；　constructed　roughly　of　gray　fieldstone。
　　　The　wall　stretched　left　to　right　as　far　as　Ben　could　see；　losing　itself　among　the　trees。　But　it　was　so　rough…surfaced　that　climbing　it　proved　easy。　Raising　his　eyes　cautiously　above　the　top；　Ben　observed　that　on　the　far　side　of　the　wall　the　woods　soon　petered　out；　and　innocent…looking　countryside　began；　with　a　narrow；　rutted　road　winding　across　it　from　left　to　right。　In　the　distance　Ben　could　just　discern　the　top　of　a　tall　white　pyramid。　That　was　the　only　building　in　sight；　apart　from　a　couple　of　distant　cottages。
　　　Ben　observed　that　pyramid　with　relief；　taking　it　as　proof　that　he'd　put　Blue　Temple　lands　behind　him　…　or；　at　the　worst；　that　he　was　just　about　to　do　so。　In　another　moment　he　was　over　the　wall　and　trotting　toward　that　winding　road。　As　he　passed　through　the　last　of　the　trees；　with　patches　of　mist　still　hanging　about　them　to　lend　an　air　of　mystery；　it　struck　Ben　for　the　first　time　that　the　grove　had　the　look　of　some　kind　of　shrine。　For　what　god　it　was　meant　he　couldn't　guess。　He　didn't　think　it　was　associated　with　the　Temple　of　Ardneh　…　that　looked　too　far　away。
　　　He　should　really　stop　at　Ardneh's　temple；　he　told　himself；　and　make　some　thanks…offering　for　prayers　very　recently　answered。　He　certainly　would　do　that；　if　he　had　anything　left　to　offer；　but　he　was　practically　naked　as　he　was。　On　second　thought　he　would　stop；　and　try　to　beg　some　clothes。　Also；　now　that　he　thought　about　it；　a　little　food。　Yes；　definitely；　food。
　　　Less　than　an　hour　later；　a　white…robed　acolyte　of　Ardneh　was　ushering　Ben　up　a　long　flight　of　white　steps。
　　　When　Ben　emerged　from　Ardneh's　temple　a　short　time　later；　he　was　dressed　in　warmer　garments。　They　were　third…　or　fourth…hand　pilgrim's　garb；　and　patched；　but　they　were　clean　and　dry。　And　he　was　no　longer　ravenously　hungry。　But　he　was　very　tired；　and　frowning　thoughtfully。
　　　Again　he　strode　along　the　road；　still　heading　south。　He'd　have　to　stop　somewhere　soon　and　get　some　sleep；　but　right　now　he　wanted　to　make　distance；　to　get　as　far　from　the　Blue　Temple　as　he　could。　He　had　a　better　knowledge　now　of　where　he　was；　and　he'd　known　all　along　where　he　was　heading　for。
　　　Sometime　this　month　the　carnival　that　he　and　Barbara　had　been　with　ought　to　be　making　a　spring　move　to　Purkinje　Town；　if　it　kept　to　the　old　schedule。　If　she　was　still　with　it；　he　would　find　her　there。
　　　Ben　made　the　long　journey　almost　entirely　on　foot。　It　took　him　approximately　a　month；　so　spring　in　these　parts　was　well　advanced　when　he　arrived。　And　the　journey　was　not　without　adventure；　though　if　Blue　Temple　were　on　his　trail；　as　he　thought　they　must　be　by　this　time；　he　saw　no　signs　of　them。　Gradually　his　fears　receded；　and　he　began　to　believe　that　they　thought　him　dead。
　　　By　the　time　Ben　reached　Purkinje　Town；　or　rather　the　place　outside　the　town's　crumbling　walls　where　the　small　carnival　was　encamped；　he'd　worn　out　and　replaced　his　sandals；　and　had　had　to　replace　some　of　his　pilgrim's　garb　as　well。　He　had　also　begun　a　beard；　which　was　ing　in　a　dull；　bleached　brown　to　match　his　hair。　He　had　acquired　as　well　one　of　the　packs　and　something　of　the　appearance　of　an　itinera