df.therunelords-第125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！


　Sylvarresta　listened　to　the　young　man　talk　to　the　woman；　then　gazed　up　in　the　tree。　An　orange　cat；　the　kind　of　half…wild　mouser　mon　to　farms；　sat　on　a　branch；　staring　down　at　him。　It　stood；　arched　its　back；　then　walked　out　on　a　huge　limb　above　King　Sylvarresta；　its　tail　twisting　in　the　air。　It　meowed　hungrily　and　gazed　at　something　on　the　ground。
　King　Sylvarresta　followed　its　gaze；　noticed　a　man　lying　on　the　ground；　under　a　shimmering　green　cape。　He　recognized　that　royal　cape；　the　one　that　had　mesmerized　him　just　this　morning。　He　recognized　the　man　beneath　it。
　King　Orden。　His　friend。
　At　the　same　moment；　he　knew　something　was　profoundly　wrong。　Orden　did　not　move。　His　chest　did　not　fall　and　rise。　He　only　clasped　his　hands　over　a　blue　flower。
　In　an　instant　Sylvarresta's　world　shattered。　He　remembered　what　this　was；　dredged　it　up　from　some　deep　place　where　all　horrors　lay　hidden。
　He　shouted　wordlessly；　not　knowing　the　name　for　this　thing；　and　leapt　from　his　horse。　He　hit　the　ground；　scrambled　over　the　snow；　sliding　in　the　muck；　till　he　broke　through　the　fence　of　spears　that　stuck　in　the　ground；　reached　Orden's　hand。
　Orden's　cold　fingers　held　a　single　flower；　blue　as　sky。　Sylvarresta　grasped　the　cold　fingers；　picked　them　up　and　tried　to　get　them　to　move。　Reached　for　Orden's　cheek；　stroked　it；　to　find　it　as　cold　as　the　rest　of　him。
　Sylvarresta　cried；　and　turned　back；　to　discover　whether　the　others　knew　this　great　dark　secret；　knew　of　this　beast　that　stalked　them　all。
　As　he　caught　the　eyes　of　the　young　man　and　the　woman；　he　saw　horror　there。
　〃Yes；〃　the　young　man　said　softly。　〃Death。　He　is　dead。〃
　Yes；　they　knew　the　secret。
　The　woman　said　in　a　sad　if　scolding　tone；　〃Fatheroh　please；　e　away　from　there！〃
　In　the　fields　below；　a　knight　rode　a　great　warhorse；　speeding　toward　them　like　an　arrow；　his　visor　and　his　lance　lowered。　So　swift　he　came。　So　swift。
　Sylvarresta　shouted　the　great　secret。　〃Death！〃
　　
　Chapter　58
　BROKEN　MEN
　　
　Gaborn　heard　the　thud　of　hoofbeats；　the　ringing　of　mail　as　links　clanged　against　one　another。　He　had　thought　it　only　a　local　knight　riding　across　the　downsuntil　he　recognized　the　throaty　battle　chuckle；　a　sound　that　filled　him　with　dread。
　Gaborn　had　been　watching　King　Sylvarresta；　shocked　and　saddened　that　the　poor　fool；　though　he　knew　almost　nothing　at　all；　had　been　forced　to　confront　mortality。　It　felt　like　watching　a　child　get　torn　apart　by　dogs。
　Gaborn　only　had　time　to　push　Iome　behind　him；　spin　and　raise　a　hand　to　shout　〃No！〃
　Then　Borenson's　gray　steed　thundered　past；　its　armor　rattling。　Huge。　Unstoppable。
　Borenson's　lance　was　lowered　on　the　far　side　of　the　horse；　twenty　feet　of　polished　white　ash　with　its　blackened　steel　tip　at　the　end。　Gaborn　thought　of　throwing　himself　forward；　pushing　that　lance　tip　away。
　But　Borenson　raced　past　before　Gaborn　could　act。
　Gaborn　stood　but　thirty　feet　from　King　Sylvarresta；　yet　time　seemed　to　slow　in　that　second。
　Gaborn　had　seen　Borenson　joust　a　hundred　times。　The　man　had　a　steady　hand；　a　deft　touch。　He　could　skewer　a　plum　off　a　fence　post　with　a　lance；　even　on　a　force　horse　galloping　sixty　miles　an　hour。
　Borenson　approached　with　his　lance　low；　as　if　he'd　go　for　a　stomach　wound；　and　Gaborn　saw　him　raise　it　just　a　bit；　holding　steady；　aiming　at　Sylvarresta's　heart。
　For　his　part；　Sylvarresta　seemed　not　to　recognize　what　was　happening。　The　King's　face　had　twisted　in　a　grimace；　for　he'd　just　remembered　the　one　thing　Gaborn　had　hoped　he'd　never　e　to　learn；　and　he　had　been　shouting　the　word　〃death；〃　though　he　could　not　have　foreseen　his　own。
　Then　the　steed　bore　down　on　Sylvarresta。　Borenson　pulled　his　lance　to　the　right　a　fraction　of　an　inch；　so　it　would　not　graze　one　of　the　spears　in　Gaborn's　spear　wall。
　Then　the　horse　charged　through　the　spear　wall；　sent　some　shafts　flying；　shattered　others。　Almost　at　that　same　moment；　the　tip　of　Borenson's　lance　took　King　Sylvarresta　just　below　the　sternum。
　The　spear　entered　deftly；　pushing　the　King　backward　and　lifting　him　from　his　feet。
　Borenson　let　the　lance　slide　ten　feet　through　the　King's　chest；　so　the　tapering　wood　spread　his　ribs　open　wide；　then　suddenly　released　the　haft　and　leaned　clear　of　the　dying　man。
　The　horse　thundered　two　steps；　leapt　the　corpse　of　Gaborn's　father；　crashed　through　the　far　wall　of　spears；　and　charged　on　past　the　trunk　of　the　huge　oak　tree。
　King　Sylvarresta　stood　a　moment；　blinking　stupidly　at　the　huge　lance　that　skewered　him；　staring　in　wonder　at　his　own　blood　as　it　spurted　over　the　polished　white　ash。　Then　his　knees　buckled。　His　head　sagged；　and　he　pitched　to　his　left。
　As　he　died；　he　looked　at　his　daughter　and　moaned　weakly。
　Gaborn　had　no　weapons　at　hand。　He'd　left　his　horseman's　warhammer　sheathed　in　his　saddle。
　He　rushed　forward；　grabbed　a　spear　from　the　ground；　and　called　to　Iome。　She　did　not　need　prodding。　Her　horse　had　startled　away　at　Gaborn's　shout。
　Iome　ran　behind　Gaborn。　He　thought　that　she　would　let　him　shield　her。　But　in　a　moment　it　became　clear　that　she　did　not　plan　to　hide　behind　him　at　all。　She　merely　sought　her　way　past　him；　to　get　to　her　father；　who　lay　crumpled　and　bleeding。
　Borenson　spun　his　horse；　pulled　the　horseman's　battle…axe　from　its　sheath　on　the　back　of　the　saddle；　and　flipped　up　the　visor　of　his　helm。　For　half　a　second；　he　merely　glared。
　There　was　pain　in　his　blue　eyes；　the　pain　of　madness。　His　face　was　red　from　rage；　his　teeth　gritted。　He　smiled　no　longer。
　Running　forward；　Gaborn　grabbed　his　father's　shield　from　the　spot　where　it　hung　to　the　oak；　raised　it　to　protect　Iome　and　Sylvarresta；　then　backed　away；　standing　five　feet　behind　the　cold　corpse　of　King　Orden。
　Gaborn　knew　Borenson　would　not　risk　letting　his　mount　trample　King　Orden's　corpse；　defiling　it。　He'd　not　spur　his　horse　into　battle。
　But　Gaborn　did　not　feel　so　certain　Borenson　would　refrain　from　striking　him：　Borenson　had　been　pelled　to　mit　bloody　murder　in　assassinating　the　Dedicates　at　Castle　Sylvarresta。　He'd　been　forced　to　choose　between　slaughtering　King　Sylvarresta　and　the　King's　menhis　own　friendsor　letting　the　Dedicates　live　to　serve　Raj　Ahten。
　It　was　an　evil　choice；　with　no　fair　answer；　no　answer　that　any　man　could　hope　to　live　with。
　〃Give　her　to　me！〃　Borenson　shouted。
　〃No！〃　Gaborn　said。　〃She　is　a　Dedicate　no　longer！〃
　In　that　moment；　Borenson　looked　down　beneath　Iome's　hood；　saw　her　fair　face；　no　longer　wrinkled。　Saw　her　eyes　clear。　A　look　of　astonishment　came　over　him。
　A　dark　blur　rushed　past　Gaborn；　some　knight　of　Sylvarresta　with　great　metabolism；　running　with　his　might　at　Borenson。　The　fellow　leapt；　and　Borenson　leaned　back　from　the　attack；　swung　his　warhammer；　caught　the　warrior　full　in　the　face。　Blood　sprayed　the　air　as　the　dying　warrior　hurtled　over　Borenson's　horse。
　Hundreds　of　people　had　witnessed　Sylvarresta's　murder。　Gaborn　had　been　totally　focused　on　Borenson；　but　now　he　became　aware　of　the　others。
　Duke　Groverman　and　a　full　hundred　knights　were　rushing　up　the　hill　with　weapons　drawn。　Behind　them　ran　moners。　Some　looked　furious；　others　dismayed。　Some　could　not　believe　what　had　happened。　Gaborn　heard　shouts；　the　hue　and　cry　of　〃Murder；　murder　most　foul！〃　and　〃Kill　him！〃　and　others　shouting　in　wordless　grief　at　the　death　of　their　King。
　Young　boys　with　scythes　and　sticks　were　running　up　the　hill；　their　bloodless　faces　twisted　in　dismay。
　Iome　dropped　to　her　knees；　took　her　father's　head　in　her　lap。　She　rocked　back　and　forth；　weeping。　Her　father's　blood　was　pumping　out　quickly　through　the　huge　wound；　as　if　he　were　a　steer　being　bled　by　a　butcher。　The　blood　pooled　and　mingled　with　the　melting　snow。
　Things　had　happened　so　quickly；　Gaborn　just　stood；　dazed。　His　guard　had　killed　the　father　of　the　woman　he　loved。　Gaborn's　own　life　might　well　be　in　jeopardy。
　Some　here　would　see　it　as　their　duty　to　avenge　House　Sylvarresta。　A　tide　of　people　swept　toward　Borenson。　Some　young　men　were　stringing　longbows。
　Gaborn　shouted；　using　all　the　power　he　could　muster　in　his　Voice；　〃Stop！　Leave　him　to　me！〃
　Borenson's　horse　danced　backward　at　the　shout；　and　he　fought　to　control　the　mount。　Those　nearest　Gaborn　all　stopped　expectantly。　Others　still　rushed　up　the　hill；　unsure。
　Iome