srdonaldson.theillearthwar-第75部分

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rom　Garroting　Deep。　And　as　the　sun　climbed　higher；　he　made　out　the　long　curve　of　peaks　running　south　and　then　west　from　the　valley　of　Mithil　Stonedown　to　Doom's　Retreat。
　Then　the　light　reached　down　to　the　hills　which　formed　the　eastern　border　of　the　Plains　between　Kevin's　Watch　and　Andelain。　Now　he　could　follow　the　whole　course　of　the　Mithil　River　northwest　and　then　north　until　it　joined　the　Black。　He　felt　strangely　elevated　and　mighty。　His　gaze　had　never　prehended　so　much　before；　and　he　understood　how　High　Lord　Kevin　must　have　felt。　Standing　on　the　Watch　was　like　being　on　the　pinnacle　of　the　Earth。
　But　the　sun　kept　rising。　Like　a　tide　of　illumination；　it　flooded　across　the　Plains；　washing　away　the　last　of　his　blindness。
　What　he　saw　staggered　him　where　he　stood。　Horror　filled　his　eyes　like　the　rush　of　an　avalanche。　It　was　worse　than　anything　he　could　have　imagined。
　He　made　out　the　Warward　first。　His　army　had　just　begun　to　march；　it　crept　south　along　the　mountain　wedge。　He　saw　it　as　hardly　more　than　a　smudge　in　the　foothills；　but　he　could　gauge　its　speed。　It　was　still　two　days　from　Doom's　Retreat。
　Hiltmark　Quaan's　force　was　closer　to　him；　and　farther　from　the　Retreat。　But　the　horsemen　were　moving　faster。　He　estimated　their　numbers　instinctively；　instantly；　he　knew　at　once　that　they　had　been　decimated。　More　than　a　third　of　the　two　hundred　Bloodguard　were　gone；　and　of　Quaan's　twelve　Eoward　less　than　six　remained。　They　hurried　raggedly；　almost　at　a　dead　rout。
　Raging　at　their　heels　came　a　vast　horde　of　kreshat　least　ten　thousand　of　the　savage　yellow　wolves。　The　mightiest　of　them；　the　most　powerful　two　thousand；　bore　black　riders…ur…viles。　The　ridden　kresh　ran　in　tight　wedges；　and　the　ur…vile　loremasters　at　the　wedge　tips　threw　torrents　of　dark　force　at　every　rider　who　fell　within　their　reach。
　In　an　effort　to　control　the　pace；　restrain　it　from　utter　flight；　Eoman　turned　at　intervals。　Twenty　or　forty　warriors　threw　themselves　together　at　the　yellow　wall　to　slow　the　charge　of　the　kresh。　Troy　could　see　flashes　of　blue　fire　in　these　sorties；　Callindrill　and　Verement　were　alive。　But　two　Lords　were　not　enough。　The　riders　were　hopelessly　outnumbered。　And　they　were　already
　well　beyond　the　Mithil　River　in　their　race　toward　Doom's　Retreat。　Even　if　they　ran　no　faster；　they　would　reach　the　Retreat　before　the　marching　Warward。

　Quaan　had　been　unable　to　gain　the　last　day　that　the　marchers　needed。
　Yet　even　that　was　not　the　most　crushing　sight。　Behind　the　wolves　came　the　main　body　of　Lord　Foul's　army。　This　body　was　closer　than　the　others　to　Kevin's　Watch；　and　Troy　could　see　it　with　appalling　clarity。
　The　Giant　striding　at　its　head　was　the　least　of　its　horrors。　At　the　Giant's　back　marched　immense　ranks　of　Cavewights　at　least　twenty　thousand　of　the　strong；　ungainly　rock　delvers。　Behind　them　hurried　an　equal　number　of　ur…viles；　loping　on　all　fours　for　better　speed。　Through　their　ranks；　hundreds　of　fearsome；　lionlike　griffins　alternately　trotted　and　flew。　And　after　the　Demondim…spawn　came　a　seething；　grim　army　so　huge　that　Troy　could　not　even　guess　its　numbers：　humans；　wolves；　Waynhim；　forest　animals；　creatures　of　the　Flat；　all　radiating　the　fathomless　blood…hunger　which　coerced　them…many　myriad　of　warped；　rabid　creatures；　the　perverted　handiwork　of　Lord　Foul　and　the　Illearth　Stone。
　Most　of　this　prodigious　army　had　already　crossed　the　Mithil　in　pursuit　of　Hiltmark　Quaan　and　his　mand。　It　moved　with　such　febrile　speed　that　it　was　little　more　than　three　days　from　Doom's　Retreat。　And　it　was　so　mighty　that　no　ambush；　however　well　conceived；　could　hope　to　stand　against　it。
　But　there　would　be　no　ambush。　The　Warward　did　not　know　its　peril；　and　would　not　reach　the　Retreat　in　time。
　Like　jagged　hunks　of　rock；　these　facts　beat　Warmark　Troy　to　his　knees。　〃Dear　God！〃　he　breathed　in　anguish。　〃What　have　I　done？〃　The　avalanche　of　revelations　battered　him　down。　〃Dear　God。　Dear　God。　What　have　I　done？〃
　Behind　him；　Lord　Mhoram　insisted　with　mounting　urgency；　〃What　is　it？　What　do　you　see？　Warmark；　what　do　you　see？〃　But　Troy　could　not　answer。　His　world　was　reeling　around　him。　Through　the　vertigo　of
　his　perceptions；　his　clutching　mind　could　grasp　only　one　thought：　this　was　his　fault；　all　of　it　was　his　fault。　The　futility　of　Korik's　mission；　the　end　of　the　Giants；　the　inevitable　slaughter　of　the　Warward…everything　was　on　his　head。　He　had　been　in　mand。　And　when　the　debacle　of　his　mand　was　over；　the　Land　would　be　defenseless。　He　had　served　the　Despiser　from　the　start　without　knowing　it；　and　what　Atiaran　Trellmate　had　given　her　life　for　was　worse　than　nothing。
　〃Worse；〃　he　gasped。　He　had　condemned　his　warriors　to　death。　And　they　were　only　the　beginning　of　the　toll　Lord　Foul　would　exact　for　his　misjudgment。　〃Dear　God。〃　He　wanted　to　howl；　but　his　chest　was　too　full　of　horror；　it　had　no　room　for　outcries。
　He　did　not　understand　how　the　Despiser's　army　could　be　so　big。　It　surpassed　his　most　terrible　nightmares。
　Wildly；　he　surged　to　his　feet。　He　tore　at　his　breast；　trying　to　wrest　enough　air　from　his　unbreathable　failure　for　just　one　cry。　But　he　could　not　get　it；　his　lungs　were　clogged　with　ruin。　A　sudden　loud　helplessness　roared　in　his　ears；　and　he　pitched　forward。
　He　did　not　realize　that　he　had　tried　to　jump　until　Terrel　and　Ruel　caught　his　legs　and　hauled　him　back　over　the　parapet。
　Then　he　felt　a　burning　in　his　cheeks。　Lord　Mhoram　was　slapping　him。　When　he　flinched；　the　Lord　pulled　close　to　him；　shouted　into　his　eyeless　face；　〃Warmark！　Hile　Troy！　Hear　me！　I　understand…the　Despiser's　army　is　great。　And　the　Warward　will　not　reach　Doom's　Retreat　in　time。　I　can　help！〃
　Dumbly；　instinctively；　Troy　tried　to　straighten　his　sunglasses　on　his　face；　and　found　that　they　were　gone。　He　had　lost　them　over　the　edge　of　Kevin's　Watch。
　〃Hear　me！〃　Mhoram　cried。　〃I　can　send　word。　If　either　Callindrill　or　Verement　lives；　I　can　be　heard。　They　can　warn　Amorine。〃　He　grabbed　Troy's　shoulders；　and　his　fingers　dug　in；　trying　to　gain　a　hold　on　Troy's　bones。　〃Hear！　I　am　able。　But　I　must　have　reason；　hope。　I　cannot…if　it　is　useless。　Answer！〃　he　demanded　through　clenched　teeth。　〃You　are　the　Warmark。　Find　hope！　Do　not　leave　your　warriors　to　diet〃
　〃No；〃　Troy　whispered。　He　tried　to　break　away　from　Mhoram's　grip；　but　the　Lord's　fingers　were　too　strong。　〃There's　no　way。　Foul's　army　is　too　big。〃
　He　wanted　to　weep；　but　Mhoram　did　not　let　him。　〃Discover　a　way！〃　the　Lord　raged。　〃They　will　be　slain！　You　must　save　them！〃
　〃I　can't！〃　Troy　shouted　in　sudden　anger。　The　stark　impossibility　of　Mhoram's　demand　touched　a　hidden　resource　in　him；　and　he　yelled；　〃Foul's　army　is　too　goddamn　big！　Our　forces　are　going　to　get　there　too　late！　The　only　way　they　can　stay　alive　just　a　little　longer　is　to　run　straight　through　the　Retreat　and　keep　going　until　they　drop！　There's　nothing　out　there…just　Wastes；　and　Desert；　and　a　clump　of　ruins；　and…！〃
　Abruptly；　his　heart　lurched。　Kevin's　Watch　seemed　to　tilt　under　him；　and　he　grabbed　at　Mhoram's　wrists　to　steady　himself。　〃Sweet　Jesus！〃　he　whispered。　〃There　is　one　chance。〃
　〃Speak　it！〃
　〃There's　one　chance；〃　Troy　repeated　in　a　tone　of　wonder。　〃Jesus。〃　With　an　effort；　he　forced　his　attention　into　focus　on　Mhoram。　〃But　you'll　have　to　do　it。〃
　〃Then　I　will　do　it。　Tell　me　what　must　be　done。〃
　For　a　moment　longer；　the　sweet　sense　of　reprieve　amazed　Troy；　outweighing　the　need　to　act；　almost　dumbfounding　him。　〃It's　going　to　be　rough；〃　he　murmured　to　himself。　〃God！　It's　going　to　be　rough。〃　But　Mhoram's　insistent　grip　held　him。　Speaking　slowly　to　help　himself　collect　his　thoughts；　he　said；　〃You're　going　to　have　to　do　it。　There's　no　other　way。　But　first　you've　got　to　get　through　to　Callindrill　or　Verement。〃
　Lord　Mhoram's　piercing　gaze　probed　Troy。　Then　Mhoram　helped　the　Warmark　to　his　feet。　Quietly；　the　Lord　asked；　〃Do　Callindrill　and　Verement　live？〃
　〃Yes。　I　saw　their　fire。　Can　you　reach　them？　They　don't　have　any　of　that　High　Wood。〃
　Mhoram　smiled　grimly。　〃What　message　shall　I　give？〃
　Now　Troy　studied　Mhoram。　He　felt　oddly　vulnerable　without　his　sunglasses；　as　if　he　were　exposed　to　reproach；　even　to　abhorrence；　but　he　could　see　Mhoram　acutely。　What　he　saw　reassured　him。　The
　Lord's　eyes　gleamed　with　hazardous　potentia