srdonaldson.theillearthwar-第121部分

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　At　this；　Covenant's　face　twisted　again。　But　he　had　nothing　more　to　say；　even　the　release　of　assent　was　denied　him。　However；　Bannor　seemed　to　hear　something　different　in　the　Lord's　tone。　As　if　to　correct　an

　injustice；　he　went　to　Mhoram。　As　he　moved；　he　took　from　his　pack　Covenant's　marrowmeld　sculpture。
　He　handed　the　work　to　Mhoram。　〃The　High　Lord　gave　it　to　him　as　a　gift。〃
　Lord　Mhoram　gripped　the　bone　sculpture　tightly；　and　his　eyes　shone　with　sudden　prehension。　He　understood　the　bond　between　Elena　and　the　Ranyhyn；　he　understood　what　the　giving　of　such　a　gift　to　Covenant　meant。　A　gasp　of　weeping　swept　over　his　face。　But　when　it　passed；　it　left　his　self…mastery　intact。　His　crooked　lips　took　on　their　old　humane　angle。　When　he　turned　to　Covenant　again；　he　said　gently；　〃It　is　a　precious　gift。〃
　Bannor's　unexpected　support；　and　Mhoram's　gesture　of　conciliation；　touched　Covenant。　But　he　had　no　strength　to　spare　for　either　of　them。　His　gaze　was　fixed　on　Hile　Troy。
　The　Warmark　winced　eyelessly　under　repeated　blows　of　realization；　and　within　him　a　gale　brewed。　He　seemed　to　see　Elena　in　his　mind…remember　her；　taste　her　beauty；　savor　all　the　power　of　sight　which　she　had　taught　him。　He　seemed　to　see　her　useless；　solitary　end。　〃Lost？〃　he　panted　as　his　fury　grew。　〃Lost？　Alone？〃
　All　at　once；　he　erupted。　With　a　livid　howl；　he　raged　at　Covenant；　〃Do　you　call　that　love？！　Leper！　Unbeliever！〃…he　spat　the　words　as　if　they　were　the　most　damning　curses　he　knew…〃This　is　all　just　a　game　for　you！　Mental　tricks。　Excuses。　You're　a　leper！　A　moral　leper！　You're　too　selfish　to　love　anyone　but　yourself。　You　have　the　power　for　everything；　and　you　won't　use　it。　You　just　turned　your　back　on　her　when　she　needed　you。　You…despicable…leper！　Leper！〃　He　shouted　with　such　force　that　the　muscles　of　his　neck　corded。　The　veins　in　his　temples　bulged　and　throbbed　as　if　he　were　about　to　burst　with　execration。
　Covenant　felt　the　truth　of　the　accusation。　His　bargain　exposed　him　to　such　charges；　and　Troy　hit　the　heart　of　his　vulnerability　as　if　some　prophetic　insight　guided　his　blindness。　Covenant's　right　hand　twitched　in　a　futile　fending　motion。　But　his　left　clung　to　his　chest　as　if　to　localize　his　shame　in　that　one　place。
　When　Troy　paused　to　gather　himself　for　another　assault；　Covenant　said　weakly；　〃Unbelief　has　got　nothing　to　do　with　it。　She　was　my　daughter。〃
　〃What？！〃
　〃My　daughter。〃　Covenant　pronounced　it　like　an　indictment。　〃I　raped　Trell's　child。　Elena　was　his　granddaughter。〃
　〃Your　daughter。〃　Troy　was　too　stunned　to　shout。　Implications　like　glimpses　of　depravity　rocked　him。　He　groaned　as　if　Covenant's　crimes　were　so　multitudinous　that　he　could　not　hold　them　all　in　his　mind　at　one　time。
　Mhoram　spoke　to　him　carefully。　〃My　friend…this　is　the　knowledge　which　I　have　withheld　from　you。　The　withholding　gave　you　unintended　pain。　Please　pardon　me。　The　Council　feared　that　this　knowledge　would　cause　you　to　abominate　the　Unbeliever。〃
　〃Damn　right；〃　Troy　panted。　〃Damn　right。〃
　Suddenly；　his　accumulated　passion　burst　into　action。　Guided　by　a　sure　instinct；　he　reached　out　swiftly；　snatched　away　Lord　Mhoram's　staff。　He　spun　once　to　gain　momentum；　and　leveled　a　crushing　blow　with　the　staff　at　Covenant's　head。
　The　unexpectedness　of　the　attack　surpassed　even　Bannor。　But　he　recovered；　sprang　after　Troy；　jolted　him　enough　to　unbalance　his　swing。　As　a　result；　only　the　heel　of　the　staff　clipped　Covenant's　forehead。　But　that　sent　him　tumbling　backward　down　the　hill。
　He　caught　himself；　got　…　to　his　knees。　When　he　raised　a　hand　to　his　head；　he　found　that　he　was　bleeding　profusely　from　a　wound　in　the　center　of　his　forehead。
　He　could　feel　old　hate　and　death　seeping　into　him　from　the　blasted　earth。　Blood　ran　down　his　cheeks　like　spittle。
　The　next　moment；　Mhoram　and　Quaan　reached　Troy。　Mhoram　tore　the　staff　from　his　grasp；　Quaan　pinned　his　arms。　〃Fool）〃　the　Lord　rasped。　〃You　forget　the　Oath　of　Peace。　Loyalty　is　duel〃
　Troy　struggled　against　Quaan。　Rage　and　anguish　mottled　his　face。　〃I　haven't　sworn　any　Oath！　Let　go　of　me！〃
　〃You　are　the　Warmark　of　the　Warward；〃　said　Mhoram　dangerously。　〃The　Oath　of　Peace　binds。　But　if　you　cannot　refrain　from　murder　for　that　reason；　refrain　because　the　Despiser's　army　is　destroyed。　Fleshharrower　hangs　dead　on　the　gibbet　of　Gallows　Howe。〃
　〃Do　you　call　that　victory？　We've　been　decimated）　What　good　is　a　victory　that　costs　so　much？〃　Troy's　fury　rose　like　weeping。　〃It　would　have　been　better　if　we'd　lost！　Then　it　wouldn't　have　been　such　a　waste！〃　The　passion　in　his　throat　made　him　gasp　for　air　as　if　he　were　asphyxiating　on　the　reek　of　Covenant's　perfidy。
　But　Lord　Mhoram　was　unmoved。　He　caught　Troy　by　the　breastplate　and　shook　him。　〃Then　refrain　because　the　High　Lord　is　not　dead。〃
　〃Not？〃　Troy　panted。　〃Not　dead？〃
　〃We　hear　her　battle　even　now。　Do　you　not　prehend　the　sound？　Even　as　we　listen；　she　struggles　against　dead　Kevin。　The　Staff　sustains　her…and　he　has　not　the　might　she　believed　of　him。　But　the　proof　of　her　endurance　is　here；　in　the　Unbeliever　himself。　She　is　his　summoner…he　will　remain　in　the　Land　until　her　death。　So　it　was　when　Drool　Rockworm　first　called　him。
　〃She's　still　fighting？〃　Troy　gaped　at　the　idea。　He　seemed　to　regard　it　as　the　conclusive　evidence　of　Covenant's　treachery。　But　then　he　turned　to　Mhoram　and　cried；　〃We've　got　to　help　her！〃

　At　this；　Mhoram　flinched。　A　wave　of　pain　broke　through　his　face。　In　a　constricted　voice；　he　asked；　〃How？〃
　〃How？〃　Troy　fumed。　〃Don't　ask　me　how。　You're　the　Lord！　We　have　got　to　help　her！〃
　The　Lord　pulled　himself　erect；　clenched　his　staff　for　support。　〃We　are　fifty　leagues　from　Rivenrock。　A　night　and　a　day　would　pass　before　any　Ranyhyn　could　carry　us　to　the　foot　of　the　cliff。　Then　Bannor　would　be　required　to　guide　us　into　the　mountain　in　search　of　the　battle。　Perhaps　the　effects　of　the　battle　have　destroyed　all　approaches　to　it。　Perhaps　they　would　destroy　us。　Yet　if　we　gained　the　High　Lord；　we
　would　have　nothing　to　offer　her　but　the　frail　strength　of　two　Lords。　With　the　Staff　of　Law；　she　far　surpasses　us。　How　can　we　help　her？〃
　They　faced　each　other…as　if　they　met　mind　to　mind　across　Troy's　eyelessness。　Mhoram　did　not　falter　under　the　Warmark's　rage。　The　hurt　of　his　inadequacy　showed　clearly　in　his　face；　but　he　neither　denied　nor　cursed　at　his　weakness。
　Though　Troy　trembled　with　urgency；　he　had　to　take　his　demand　elsewhere。
　He　swung　toward　Covenant。　〃You！〃　he　shouted　stridently。　〃If　you're　too　much　of　a　coward　to　do　anything　yourself；　at　least　give　me　a　chance　to　help　her！　Give　me　your　ring！…I　can　feel　it　from　here。　Give　it　to　me！　e　on；　you　bastard。　It's　her　only　chance。〃
　Kneeling　on　the　dead；　sabulous　dirt　of　the　Howe；　Covenant　looked　up　at　Troy　through　the　blood　in　his　eyes。　For　a　time；　he　was　unable　to　answer。　Troy's　adjuration　seemed　to　drop　on　him　like　a　rockfall。　It　swept　away　his　last　defense；　and　left　bare　his　final　shame。　He　should　have　been　able　to　save　Elena。　He　had　the　power；　it　pulsed　like　a　wound　on　his　wedding　finger。　But　he　had　not　used　it。　Ignorance　was　no　excuse。　His　claim　of　futility　no　longer　covered　him。
　The　barren　atmosphere　of　the　Howe　ached　in　his　chest　as　he　climbed　to　his　feet。　Though　he　could　hardly　see　where　he　was　going；　he　started　up　the　hill。　The　exertion　made　his　head　hurt　as　if　there　were　splinters　of　bone　jabbing　his　brain；　and　his　heart　quivered。　A　silent　voice　cried　out　to　him；　No！　No！　But　he　ignored　it。　With　his　halfhand；　he　fumbled　at　the　ring。　It　seemed　to　resist　him…he　had　trouble　gripping　it　but　as　he　reached　Troy　he　finally　tore　it　from　his　finger。　In　a　wet　voice；　as　if　his　mouth　were　full　of　blood；　he　said；　〃Take　it。　Save　her。〃　He　put　the　band　in　Troy's　hand。
　The　touch　of　the　pulsing　ring　exalted　Troy。　Clenching　his　fingers　around　it；　he　turned；　ran　fearlessly　to　the　hillcrest。　He　searched　quickly　with　his　ears；　located　the　direction　of　Rivenrock；　faced　the　battle。　Like　a　titan；　he　swung　his　fist　at　the　heavens；　power
　flamed　from　the　white　gold　as　if　it　were　answering　his　passion。　In　a　livid　voice；　he　cried；　〃Elena！　Elena！〃
　Then　the　tall　white　singer　was　at　his　side。　The　music　took　on　a　forbidding　note　that　spread　involuntary　stasis　like　a　mist　over　the　hilltop。　Everyone　froze；　lost　the　po