tw.theburningman-第3章
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ummoned the strength to declare； 'I am a ghost。'
She may have spoken of her suffering … that she felt she only clung to the world； like a timid spirit that will not take the road to Heaven； but lingers ever near the places it knew。 Certainly her last request made it clear that she had grown weary of the circles of this world。 But I have wondered since if there might be some other meaning to her words。 Did she mean that her own life after my father's death had been nothing more than a ghost…life？ Or did she perhaps intend to say that she had bee a shade in her own house； something that waited in the dark； haunted corridors of the High Keep for her second husband's regard to give it true life … a regard that would never e from that silent； secret…burdened man？
My poor mother。 Our poor； haunted family！
I remember little of the first year of my mother's marriage to Lord Sulis； but I cannot forget the day we took possession of our new home。 Others had gone before us to make our arrival as easeful as possible … I know they had； because a great tent had already been erected on the green in the Inner Bailey； which was where we slept for the first months … but to the child I was； it seemed we were riding into a place where no mortals had ever gone。 I expected witches or ogres around every corner。 We came up the cliff road beside the Kingslake until we reached the curtain wall and began to circle the castle itself。 Those who had gone before had hacked a crude road in the shadow of the walls； so we had a much easier passage than we would have only days earlier。 We rode in a tunnel cut between the wall and forest。 Where the trees and brush had not been chopped away； the Kingswood grew right to the castle's edge； striving with root and tendril to breach the great stones of the wall。
At the castle's northern gate we found nothing but a cleared place on the hillside； a desolation of tree stumps and burn…blackened grass … the thriving town of Erkynchester that today sprawls all around the castle's feet had not even been imagined。 Not all the forest growth had been cleared。 Vines still clung to the pillars of the shattered gatehouse； rooted in the cracks of the odd； shiny stone which was all that remained of the original gateway； hanging in great braids across the opening to make a tangled； living arbour。
'Do you see？' Lord Sulis spread his strong arms as if he had designed and crafted the wilderness himself。 'We will make our home in the greatest and oldest of all houses。'
As he led her across that threshold and into the ruins of the ancient castle； my mother made the sign of the Tree upon her breast。
I know many things now that I did not know on the first day we came to the High Keep。 Of all the many tales about the place； some I now can say are false； but others I am now certain are true。 For one thing； there is no question that the Northmen lived here。 Over the years I have found many of their coins； struck with the crude 'F' rune of their King Fingil； and they also left the rotted remains of their wooden longhouses in the Outer Bailey； which my stepfather's workmen found during the course of other diggings。 So I came to realize that if the story of the Northmen living here was a true one； it stood to reason that the legend of the dragon might also be true； as well as the terrible tale of how the Northmen slaughtered the castle's immortal inhabitants。
But I did not need such workaday proofs as coins or ruins to show me that our home was full of unquiet ghosts。 That I learned for myself beyond all dispute； on the night I saw the burning man。
Perhaps someone who had grown up in Nabban or one of the other large cities of the south would not have been so astonished by their first sight of the High Keep； but I was a child of the Lake People。 Before that day； the largest building I had ever approached was the great hall of our town where the thanes met every spring … a building that could easily have been hidden in any of several parts of the High Keep and then never discovered again。 On that first day； it was clear to me that the mighty castle could only have been built by giants。
The curtain wall was impressive enough to a small girl … ten times my own height and made of huge； rough stones that I could not imagine being hauled into place by anything smaller than the grandest of ogres … but the inner walls； in the places where they still stood； were not just vast but also beautiful。 They were shaped of shining white stone which had been polished like jewellery； the blocks of equal size to those of the outer wall but with every join so seamless that from a distance each wall appeared to be a single thing； a curving piece of ivory or bone erupting from the hillside。
Many of the keep's original buildings had been burned or torn down； some so that the men from Rimmersgard could pillage the stones to build their own tower； squat as a barrel but very tall。 In any other place the Northmen's huge construction would have loomed over the whole landscape and would certainly have been the focus of my amazement。 But in any other place； there would not have been the Angel Tower。
I did not know its name then … in fact； it had no name； since the shape at its very peak could scarcely be seen … but the moment I saw it I knew there could be nothing else like it on earth； and for once childish exaggeration was correct。 Its entrance was blocked by piles of rubble the Northmen had never finished clearing； and much of the lower part of its facade had cracked and fallen away in some unimaginable cataclysm； so that its base was raw stone； but it still thrust into the sky like a great white fang； taller than any tree； taller than anything mortals have ever built。
Excited but also frightened； I asked my mother whether the tower might not fall down on us。 She tried to reassure me； saying it had stood for a longer time than I could imagine； perhaps since before there had even been people living beside the Kingslake； but that only made me feel other； stranger things。
The last words my mother ever spoke to me were； 'Bring me a dragon's claw。'
I thought at first that in the final hours of her illness she was wandering in her thoughts back to our early days at the castle。
The story of the High Keep's dragon； the creature who had driven out the last of the Northmen； was so old it had lost much of its power to frighten； but it was still potent to a little girl。 The men of my stepfather's pany used to bring me bits of polished stone … I learned after a while that they were shards of crumbled wall…carvings from the oldest parts of the castle … and tell me； 'See； here is a broken piece of the great red dragon's claw。 He lives down in the caves below the castle； but sometimes at night he es up to sniff around。 He is sniffing for little girls to eat！'
The first few times； I believed them。 Then； as I grew older and less susceptible； I learned to scorn the very idea of the dragon。 Now that 1 am an old woman； I am plagued by dreams of it again。 Sometimes even when I am awake； I think I can sense it down in the darkness below the castle； feel the moments of restlessness that trouble its long； deep sleep。
So on that night long ago； when my dying mother told me to bring her a dragon's claw； I thought she was remembering something from our first year in the castle。 I was about to go look for one of the old stones； but her bondwoman Ulca … what the Nabbanai called her handmaiden or body servant … told me that was not what my mother wanted。 A dragon's claw； she explained to me； was a charm to help those who suffered find the ease of a swift death。 Ulca had tears in her eyes； and I think she was Aedonite enough to be troubled by the idea； but she was a sensible young woman and did not waste time arguing the right or wrong of it。 She told me that the only way I could get such a thing swiftly would be from a woman named Xanippa who lived in the settlement that had sprung up just outside the High Keep's walls。
I was barely into womanhood； but I felt very much a child。 The idea of even such a short journey outside the wa
