rh.theassassinsapprentice-第71章
按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页,按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页,按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部!
————未阅读完?加入书签已便下次继续阅读!
tact me。
Nothing takes the heart out of a man more than the expectation of failure。 I had no belief he would really try to contact me; let alone that I would receive any clear impressions if he did。 Nor did I have faith that the drop…off he had chosen for me was a safe location。 Without much more thought than that; I rose; again surveyed the area for anyone watching me; then struck out toward the sea smell。 If I were where I supposed myself to be; from the shore I should be able to see Antler Island and; on a clear day; possibly Scrim Isle。 Even one of those would be enough to tell me how far from Forge I was。
As I hiked I told myself I only wanted to see how long a walk I would have back to Buckkeep。 Only a fool would imagine that the Forged ones still represented any danger。 Surely winter had put an end to them; or left them too starved and weakened to be a menace to anyone。 I gave no credence to the tales of them banding together as cutthroats and thieves。 I wasn't afraid。 I merely wanted to see where I was。 If Galen truly wanted to contact me; location should be no barrier。 He had assured us innumerable times that it was the person he reached for; not the place。 He could find me as well on the beach as he could on the hilltop。
By late afternoon; I stood atop rocky cliffs; looking out to sea。 Antler Island; and a haze that would be Scrim beyond it。 I was north of Forge。 The coast road home would go right through the ruins of that town。 It was not a forting thought。
So now what?
By evening; I was back on my hilltop; scrunched down between two of the boulders。 I had decided it was as good a place to wait as any。 Despite my doubts; I would stay where I had been left until the contact time was up。 I ate bread and salt fish and drank sparingly of my water。 My change of clothes included an extra cloak。 I wrapped myself in this and sternly rejected all thoughts of making a fire。 However small; it would have been a beacon to anyone on the dirt road that passed the hill。
I don't think there is anything more cruelly tedious than unremitting nervousness。 I tried to meditate; to open myself up to Galen's Skill; all the while shivering with cold and refusing to admit that I was scared。 The child in me kept imagining dark ragged figures creeping soundlessly up the hillside around me; Forged folk who would beat and kill me for the cloak I wore and the food in my bag。 I had cut myself a stick as I made my way back to my hillside; and I gripped it in both hands; but it seemed a poor weapon。 Sometimes I dozed despite my fears; but my dreams were always of Galen gloating over my failure as Forged ones closed in on me; and I always woke with a start; to peer wildly about to see if my nightmares were true。
I watched the sunrise through the trees and then dozed fitfully through morning。 Afternoon brought me a weary sort of peace。 I amused myself by questing out toward the wildlife on the hillside。 Mice and songbirds were little more than bright sparks of hunger in my mind; and rabbits little more; but a fox was full of lust to find a mate and farther off a buck battered the velvet off his antlers as purposefully as any smith at his anvil。 Evening was very long。 It was surprising; just how hard it was for me to accept; as night fell; that I had felt nothing; not the slightest pressure of the Skill。 Either he hadn't called or I hadn't heard him。 I ate bread and fish in the dark and told myself it didn't matter。 For a time I tried to bolster myself with anger; but my despair was too clammy and dark a thing for anger's flames to overe。 I felt sure Galen had cheated me; but I would never be able to prove it; not even to myself。 I would always have to wonder if his contempt for me had been justified。 In full darkness; I settled my back against a rock; my stick across my knees; and resolved to sleep。
My dreams were muddled and sour。 Regal stood over me; and I was a child sleeping in straw again。 He laughed and held a knife。 Verity shrugged; and smiled apologetically at me。 Chade turned aside from me; disappointed。 Molly smiled at jade; past me; forgetting I was there。 Burrich held me by the shirtfront and shook me; telling me to behave like a man; not a beast。 But I lay down on straw and an old shirt; chewing at a bone。 The meat was very good; and I could think of nothing else。
I was very fortable until someone opened a stable door and left it ajar。 A nasty little wind came creeping across the stable floor to chill me; and I looked up with a growl。 I smelled Burrich and ale。 Burrich came slowly through the dark; with a muttered; 〃It's all right; Smithy;〃 as he passed me。 I put my head down as he began to climb his stairs。
Suddenly there was a shout and men falling down the stairs。 They struggled as they fell。 I leaped to my feet; snarling and barking。 They landed half atop me。 A boot kicked at me; and I seized the leg above it in my teeth and clamped my jaws。 I caught more boot and pant than flesh; but he hissed in anger and pain; and struck at me。
A knife went into my side。
I set my teeth harder and held on; snarling around my mouthful。 Other dogs had awakened and were barking; the horses were stamping in their stalls。 Boy; boy; I called for help。 I felt him with me; but he didn't e。 The intruder kicked me; but I wouldn't let go。 Burrich lay in the straw and I smelled his blood。 He did not move。 I snarled around the mouthful。 I heard old Vixen flinging herself against the door upstairs; trying vainly to get to her master。 Again and then again the knife plunged into me。 I cried out to my boy a last time; and then I could no longer hold on。 I was flung off the kicking leg; to strike the side of a stall。 I was drowning; blood in my mouth and nostrils。 Running feet。 Pain in the dark。 I hitched closer to Burrich。 I pushed my nose under his hand。 He did not move。 Voices and light ing; ing; ing 。。。
I awoke on a dark hillside; gripping my stick so tightly my hands were numb。 Not for a moment did I think it a dream。 I couldn't stop feeling the knife between my ribs and tasting the blood in my mouth。 Like the refrain of a ghastly song; the memories came again and again; the draft of cold air; the knife; the boot; the taste of my enemy's blood in my mouth; and the taste of my own。 I struggled to make sense of what Smithy had seen。 Someone had been at the top of Burrich's stairs; waiting for him。 Someone with a knife。 And Burrich had fallen; and Smithy had smelled blood 。。。。
I stood and gathered my things。 Thin and faint was Smithy's warm little presence in my mind。 Weak; but there。 I quested carefully; and then stopped when I felt how much it cost him to acknowledge me。 Still。 Be still。 I'm ing。 I was cold and my knees shook beneath me; but sweat was slick on my back。 Not once did I question what I must do。 I strode down the hill to the dirt road。 It was a little trade road; a peddlers' track; and I knew that if I followed it; it must intersect eventually with the coast road。 I would follow it; I would find the coast road; I would get myself home。 And if Eda favored me; I would be in time to help Smithy。 And Burrich。
I strode; refusing to let myself run。 A steady march would carry me farther faster than a mad sprint through the dark。 The night was clear; the trail straight。 I considered; once; that I was putting an end to any chance of proving I could Skill。 All I had put into it; time; effort; pain; all wasted。 But there was no way I could have sat down and waited another full day for Galen to try to reach me。 To open my mind to Galen's possible Skill touch; I would have had to clear it of Smithy's tenuous thread。 I would not。 When it was all put in the balances; the Skill was far outweighed by Smithy。 And Burrich。
Why Burrich? I wondered。 Who could hate him enough to ambush him? And right outside his own quarters。 As clearly as if I were reporting to Chade; I began to assemble my facts。 Someone who knew him well enough to know where he lived; that ruled out some chance offense mitted in a Buckkeep Town tavern。 Someone who had brought a knife; that ruled out someone who just wanted to give him a beating。 The knife had been sharp; and the wield