srdonaldson.theillearthwar-第86部分

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　Laughing；　Flesbharrower　lifted　the　loremaster　over　his　head　and　hurled　it　into　the　circle。　As　it　hit　the　ground；　its　scream　died　in　a　flash　of　fire。　Only　its　stave　remained；　slowly　melting　on　the　surface。
　As　the　sun　set；　Fleshharrower　began　using　his　fragment　of　the　Stone　to　reshape　the　molten　iron；　forge　it　into　something　new。
　Softly；　as　if　he　feared　that　the　Giant…Raver　might　hear　him；　Troy　asked　the　Lords；　〃What's　this　for？　What's　he　doing？〃
　〃He　makes　a　tool；〃　Mhoram　whispered；　〃some　means　to　increase　or　concentrate　his　power。〃
　The　implications　of　that　gave　Troy　a　feeling　of　grim　gratification。　His　strategy　was　justified　at　least　to　the　extent　that　the　main　body　of　the　Warward　would　be　spared　this　particular　attack。　But　he　knew　that　such　justification　was　not　enough。　His　final　play　lay　like　a　dead　weight　in　his　stomach。　He　expected　to　lose　mand　of　the　Warward　as　soon　as　he　revealed　it；　it　would　appall　the　warriors　so　much　that　they　would　rebel。　After　all　his　promises　of　victory；　he　felt　like　a　false　prophet。　Yet　his　plan　was　the　Warward's　only　hope；　the　Land's　only　hope。
　He　prayed　that　Lord　Mhoram　would　be　equal　to　it。
　With　the　sunset；　his　sight　failed。　He　was　forced　to　rely　on　Mhoram　to　report　the　Raver's　progress。　In　the　darkness；　he　felt　trapped；　bereft　of　mand。　All　that　he　could　see　was　the　amorphous；　dull　glow　of　the　liquid　earth。　Occasionally；　he　made　out　flares　and　flashes　of　lurid　green　across　the　red；　but　they　meant　nothing　to　him。　His　only　consolation　lay　in　the　fact　that　Fleshharrower's　preparations　were　consuming　time。
　Along　the　wall　on　both　sides　of　him；　First　Haft　Amorine's　Eoward　kept　watch　over　the　Raver's　labors。　No　one　slept；　the　poised　threat　of　Fleshharrower's　army　transfixed　everyone。　Moonrise　did　not　ease　the　blackness；　the　dark　of　the　moon　was　only　three　nights　away。　But　the　Raver's　forge…work　was　bright　enough　to　pale　the　stars。
　During　the　whole　long　watch；　Fleshharrower　never　left　his　molten　circle。　Sometime　after　midnight；　he　retrieved　his　newly　made　scepter；　and　cooled　it　by　waving　it　in　a　shower　of　sparks　over　his　head。　Then　he　affixed　his　fragment　of　the　Stone　to　its　end。　But　when　that　was　done；　he　remained　by　the　circle。　As　night　waned　toward　day；　he　gestured　and　sang　over
　the　molten　stone；　weaving　incantations　out　of　its　hot　power。　It　lit　his　movements　luridly；　and　the　Stone　flashed　across　it　at　intervals；　giving　green　glimpses　of　his　malice。
　But　this　was　indistinct　to　Troy。　He　clung　to　his　hope。　In　the　darkness；　his　calculations　were　the　only　reality　left　to　him；　and　he　recited　them　like　counters　against　the　night。　When　the　first　slit　of　dawn　touched　him　from　the　east；　he　felt　a　kind　of　elation。
　Softly；　he　asked　for　Amorine。
　〃Warmark。〃　She　was　right　beside　him。
　〃Amorine；　listen。　That　monster　has　made　his　mistake…he's　wasted　too　much　time。　Now　we're　going　to　make　him　pay　for　it。　Get　the　warriors　out　of　here。　Send　them　after　the　Warward。　Whatever　happens；　that　Giant　won't　get　as　many　of　us　as　he　thinks。　Just　keep　one　warrior　for　every　good　horse　we　have〃
　〃Perhaps　all　should　depart　now；〃　she　replied；　〃before　the　Raver　attacks。〃
　Troy　grinned　at　the　idea。　He　could　imagine　Fleshharrower's　fury　if　the　Giant's　attack　found　Doriendor　Corishev　empty。　But　he　knew　that　he　had　not　yet　gained　enough　time。　He　answered；　〃I　want　to　squeeze　another　half　day　out　of　him。　With　the　Bloodguard　and　a　couple　hundred　warriors；　we'll　be　able　to　do　it。　Now　get　going。〃
　〃Yes；　Warmark。〃　She　left　his　side　at　once；　and　soon　he　could　hear　most　of　the　warriors　withdrawing。　He　gripped　the　wall　again；　and　stared　away　into　the　sunrise；　waiting　for　sight。
　Shortly；　he　became　aware　that　the　dry　breeze　out　of　the　south　was　stiffening。
　Then　the　haze　faded　from　his　mind。　First　he　became　able　to　see　the　ruined　wall；　then　the　hillside；　finally　he　caught　sight　of　the　waiting　army。
　It　had　not　moved　during　the　night。
　It　did　not　need　to　move。
　Fleshharrower　still　stood　beside　his　circle。　The　fire　in　the　ground　had　died；　but　before　it　failed；　he　had　used　it　to　wrap　himself　in　a　shimmering；　translucent　cocoon　of　power。　Within　the　power；　he　was　as　erect　as　an　icon。　He　held　his　scepter　rigidly　above　his　head；
　he　did　not　move；　he　made　no　sound。　But　when　the　sunlight　touched　him；　the　wind　leaped　suddenly　into　a　hard　blow　like　a　violent　exhalation　through　the　teeth　of　the　Desert。　And　it　increased　in　ragged　gusts　like　the　leading　edge　of　a　sirocco。
　Then　a　low　cry　from　one　of　the　warriors　pulled　Troy's　attention　away　from　Fleshharrower。　Turning　his　head；　he　looked　down　the　throat　of　the　mounting　gale。　。
　From　the　southeast；　where　the　Southron　Range　met　the　Gray　Desert；　a　tornado　came　rushing　toward　Doriendor　Corishev。　Its　undulating　shaft　plowed　straight　across　the　Wastes。
　It　conveyed　such　an　impression　of　might　that　several　moments　passed　before　Troy　realized　it　was　not　the　kind　of　whirlwind　he　understood。
　It　brought　no　rain　or　clouds　with　it；　it　was　as　dry　as　the　Desert。　And　it　carried　no　dust　or　sand；　it　was　as　clean　as　empty　air。　It　should　not　have　been　visible　at　all。　But　its　sheer　force　made　it　palpable　to　Troy's　sight。　He　could　feel　it　ing。　It　was　so　vivid　to　him　that　at　first　he　could　not　grasp　the　fact　that　the　tornado　was　not　moving　with　the　wind。
　The　gale　blew　straight　out　of　the　south；　tearing　dust　savagely　from　the　ground　as　it　came。　And　the　tornado　cut　diagonally　across　it；　ignored　the　wind　to　howl　straight　toward　Doriendor　Corishev。
　Troy　stared　at　it。　Dust　clogged　his　mouth；　but　he　did　not　know　this　until　he　tried　to　shout　something。　Then；　coughing　convulsively；　he　wrenched　himself　away　from　the　sight。　At　once；　the　sirocco　hit　him。　When　he　stopped　looking　at　the　tornado；　the　force　of　the　wind　sent　him　reeling。　Ruel　caught　him。　He　pivoted　around　the　Bloodguard；　and　threw　himself　toward　Lord　Mhoram。
　When　he　reached　Mhoram；　he　shouted；　〃What　is　it。
　〃Creator　preserve　us！〃　Mhoram　replied。　The　yowling　wind　whipped　his　voice　from　his　lips；　and　Troy　barely　heard　him。　〃It　is　a　vortex　of　trepidation。〃
　Troy　tried　to　thrust　his　words　past　the　wind　to　Mhoram's　ears。　〃What　will　it　do？〃
　Shouting　squarely　into　Troy's　face；　Mhoram　answered；　〃It　will　make　us　afraid！〃
　The　next　moment；　he　pulled　at　Troy's　arm；　and　pointed　upward；　toward　the　top　of　the　tornado。　There　a　score　of　dark　creatures　flew；　riding　the　upper　reaches　of　the　vortex。
　The　tornado　had　already　covered　more　than　half　the　distance　to　Doriendor　Corishev；　and　Troy　saw　the　creatures　vividly。　They　were　birds　as　large　as　kresh。　They　had　clenched　satanic　faces　like　bats；　wide　eaglewings；　and　massive　barbed　claws。　As　they　flew；　they　called　to　each　other；　showing　double　rows　of　hooked　teeth。　Their　wings　beat　with　lust。
　They　were　the　most　fearsome　creatures　Troy　had　ever　seen。　As　he　stared；　he　tried　to　rally　himself　against　them…judge　their　speed；　calculate　the　time　left　before　their　arrival；　plan　a　defense。　But　they　staggered　his　mind；　he　could　not　prehend　an　existence　which　permitted　them。
　He　struggled　to　move；　regain　his　balance　enough　to　tell　himself　that　he　was　already　tasting　the　vortex　of　trepidation。　But　he　was　paralyzed。　Voices　shouted　around　him。　He　had　a　vague　impression　that　Fleshharrower's　hordes　greeted　the　vortex　with　glee…or　were　they　afraid　of　it；　too？　He　could　not　tell。
　Then　Ruel　grabbed　his　arm；　snatched　him　away　from　the　wall；　shouted　into　his　ear；　〃Warmark；　e！　We　must　make　a　defense！〃
　Troy　could　not　remember　ever　having　heard　a　Bloodguard　shout　before。　But　even　now　Ruel's　voice　did　not　sound　like　panic。　Troy　felt　that　there　was　something　terrible　in　such　immunity。　He　tried　to　look　around　him；　but　the　wind　lashed　so　much　dust　across　the　ruins　that　all　details　were　lost。　Both　Lords　were　gone。　Warriors　ran　in　all　directions；　stumbling　against　the　wind。　Bloodguard　bobbed　in　and　out　of　view　like　ghouls。
　Ruel　shouted　at　him　again。　〃We　must　save　the　horses！　They　will　go　mad　with　fear！〃
　For　one　long　moment；　Troy　wished　High　Lord　Elena　were　with　him；　so　that　he　could　tell　her　this　was　not　his　fault。　Then；　abruptly；　he　realized　that　he　had
　made　another　mistake。　If　he　were　killed；　no　one　would　know　how　to　save　the　Warward。　His　final　plan　would　die　with　him；　and　every　man　and　w