fs.thethirdbookofswords-第5部分
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benefit； but it was not going to be enough。
〃I'll bring you what I can find；〃 replied the mistress of the house； and turned away with quick efficiency。 Again Denis was surprised。 He had long ago fixed her image in his mind as someone who existed to be pampered。。。 could that really have been a sling he'd seen her holding？
But now the present task demanded his full attention。 〃We ought to put him on my bed；〃 said Denis。 And Courtenay； strong as a loadbeast and disdaining help； scooped up the limp heavy form as if it had been that of a small child； and held it patiently while Denis maneuvered first the door to his room and then the coverings on his bed。
The hurt man's eyelids fluttered just as he was being put down on the bed； and he muttered a few words。 Denis heard something like： 〃Ben of Purkinje；〃 which certainly sounded like a name。 That of the victim himself？ No use asking。 He was out cold again。
Soon the mistress was back； with such useful items as she had been able to lay her hands on quickly； water and clean cloth。 She had also brought along a couple of medicine jars； but nothing that Denis thought was likely to help。 While Denis went to work washing and bandaging； the master picked up the sodden clothing that had been stripped away； and went quickly through the pockets。 But whatever Courtenay was looking for； he apparently did not find it。 With a sigh he threw the garments back on the floor and asked： 〃Well； Denis； what about him？〃
〃He's lost a lot of blood； sir。 And； where the wounds are； the bleeding's going to be hard to stop。 I've packed this hole in his side as best I can。〃 As he spoke Denis was still pressing a bandage into place。 〃We could use spider webs； but I don't know where to get a bunch of 'em quickly。 His knee isn't bleeding so much now； but it looks nasty。 If he lives； he won't be walking for a while。〃
The Old World light had been replaced in its customary wall niche； and the mistress had now brought one of the better ordinary lamps into Denis's room。 By the lamplight she and her husband were staring at each other with what struck Denis as curious expressions。
〃Knife wounds； I think；〃 said Master Courtenay； shifting his gaze at last back to Denis。
〃Yes sir； I would say that's what they are。〃
〃He couldn't have e very far in that condition。〃
〃I'd have to agree with that； sir。〃
The master nodded； and turned and walked out of Denis's room； leaving the door open behind him。 He didn't say where he was going； and nobody asked。 The mistress lingered。 Denis； observing the direction of her gaze； wondered what it was about the patient's arm…stump that she found so fascinating。
Having been a member of the household for a year and a half now； Denis was … sometimes； almost … treated like one of the family。 Now he made bold to ask； 〃Do you recognize him； Mistress？〃
〃I've never seen him before；〃 the lady answered； which to Denis sounded like the truth used as an evasion。 She added： 〃Will he live； do you think？〃
Before Denis had to try to make a guess sound like an expert opinion； there came again the sounds of someone at the back door of the shop。 The sounds were different this time： demanding shouts； acpanied by a strong and determined hammering。
Following his mistress out into the shop's main room； Denis shut the door of his own room behind him。 The master； Old World light in hand again； was once more approaching the back door。 Even as Courtenay turned on the light and peered out through the spy…lens； the pounding came again。 This time it was acpanied by a hoarse voice； somewhat muffled by the door's thickness： 〃Ho； in the house； open for the Watch！ In the Lord Mayor's name； open！〃
The master of the house continued to peer out。 〃Three of 'em；〃 he reported in a low voice。 〃No lights of their own。 Still； it's the real Watch … I think。〃
〃Open！〃 the smothered roaring voice demanded。 〃Open or we break it down！〃 And there came a thump thump thump。 But they were going to have to thump harder than that before this door would take them seriously。
Quietly the mistress said to her husband： 〃We don't want to。。。〃 She let the statement trail off there； but Denis listening had the strong impression that her next words would have been： arouse suspicion。
Whatever meaning the master read into her halfvoiced thought； he nodded his agreement with it。 Looking at Denis； he ordered： 〃Say nothing to them about our visitor。 We've seen no one tonight。〃
〃If they want to search？〃
〃Leave that to me。 But pick up your hatchet again； just in case。〃
When all three of the people inside were ready； Courtenay undid the bars and opened the door again。 In the very next instant he had to demonstrate extraordinary agility for a man of his weight； by jumping back out of the way of a blow from a short sword。
The three men who had e bursting in； dressed though they were in the Lord Mayor's livery of gray and green； were plainly not the Watch。 Denis with his hatchet was able to stand off the first rush of one of them； armed with a long knife in each hand。 Another of the intruders started toward Lady Sophie。 But her right arm rose from her side； drawing into a whirling blur the sling's long leather strands。 Whatever missile had been cradled in the leather cup now blasted stone fragments out of the wall beside the man's head； giving him pause； giving her the necessary moment to reload her weapon。
〃Ben of Purkinje！〃 cried out the third invader； hacking again at Master Courtenay with his sword。 〃Greetings from the Blue Temple！〃 This attacker was tall； and looked impressively strong。
Master Courtenay； after advising Denis to be armed； had himself been caught embarrassingly unarmed on the side of the room away from the rack of weapons。 He had to improvise； and out of the miscellany of tools around the forge grabbed up a long； iron…handled casting ladle。 It was a clumsy thing to try to swing against a sword； but the master of the house had awesome strength； and now demonstrated good nerves as well。 For the time being he was holding his own； managing to protect himself。
The man who had started after the Lady Sophie now turned back； indecisively； as if to give the swordsman aid。 It was an error。 In the next instant the second stone from the sling hit him in the back of the head and knocked him down。 The sound of the impact and the way he fell showed that for him the fight was over。
Denis was distracted by the lady's achievement unwisely； for a moment later he felt the point of one of his opponent's long knives catch in the flesh of his forearm。 The hatchet fell from Denis's grip to the stone floor。 Scrambling away from the knives； clearing a low bench in a somersaulting dive； Denis the Quick lived up to his nickname well enough to keep himself alive。
He heard one of the bigger workbenches go over with a crash； and now he saw that Master Courtenay had somehow managed to catch his own attacker by the swordarm … maybe the fellow had also been distracted； dodging feints of a slung stone。 Anyway it was now going to be a wrestling match … but no； it really wasn't。 In another instant the swordsman； bellowing his surprise； had been lifted clean off his feet； and in the instant after that Denis saw him slaughtered like a rabbit； his back broken against the angle of the heavy； tilted table。
The knife…wielder who had wounded Denis had now changed his strategy and was scrambling after the lady。 Suddenly bereft of friends； he needed a hostage。 Denis； reckless of his own safety； and wounded as he was； threw himself in the attacker's way before the man could e within a knifethrust of the mistress。 Denis had one quick glimpse of the lady； her white robe half undone； scooting successfully on hands and knees to get away。
And now Denis was on his back； and the knife was ing down at him instead … but before it reached him； the arm that held it was knocked aside by a giant's blow from the long ladle。 The iron weight brushed aside the barrier of an arm to mash into the knifer's cheekbone； delivering most of its energy there with an effect of devastation。 Denis rolled aside； paused to look back； and allowed himself to slow to a panting halt。 The fight was definitely over。
In the workshop； only three sets of l
