tw.togreenangeltower2-第24章
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The sun which had been invisible all day at last sank beneath the rim of the world； leaving behind a deeper darkness。 They rode on as the rain turned even colder； until their teeth were chattering and their hands grew numb on the reins。 Simon had begun to doubt that the tinker had spoken truly when at last they found the way station。
It was only a shed； four walls and a roof； with a smoke hole and a circle of stones dug into the floor for a fireplace。 There was a covered spot outside at the back to tie the horses； but Simon； after unsaddling them； tethered them in a copse nearby where they would be almost as dry； and would be able to crop at the thin grass。
The last inhabitant of the station…Simon guessed it was the tinker himself； who had seemed a decent and conscientious fellow…had brought in fresh wood before leaving。 It had to be new…gathered； because it was still wet and proved difficult to light： Simon had to restart it three times after the smoldering tinder fizzled out against the damp branches。 He and the princess made themselves a stew with some carrots and one of the onions and a bit of flour and dried beef from Miriamele's stores。
〃Hot food；〃 proclaimed Simon； sucking his fingers； 〃is a wonderful thing。〃 He held the bowl up and licked the last drops of gravy from the bottom。
〃You're getting stew on your beard；〃 Miriamele said sternly。
Simon pushed open the door of the way station； then leaned out and let his cupped palms fill with rainwater。 He drank some and used the rest to rub the grease from his whiskers。 〃Better？〃
〃I suppose。〃 Miriamele began arranging her bedroll。
Simon got up； patting his stomach contentedly。 He went and dragged his own bedroll loose from the saddle； then came back and laid it out close to Miriamele's。 She stared at it silently for a moment； then； without looking up； pulled hers around the fire； putting several cubits of straw…matted floor between them。
Simon pursed his lips。 〃Should we keep watch？〃 he said at last。 〃There's no bar on the door。〃
〃That would be wise。 Who first？〃
〃Me。 I have a lot to think about。〃
His tone finally made Miriamele look up。 She eyed him warily； as though he might do something sudden and frightening。 〃Very well。 Wake me when you get tired。〃
〃I'm tired now。 But so are you。 Sleep。 I'll get you up after you've had a little time to rest。〃
Miriamele settled back without protest； wrapping her cloak tightly about her before she closed her eyes。 The way station was silent but for the patter of rain on the roof。 Simon sat motionless for a long time； watching the flickering firelight play across her pale； posed features。
Sometime in the earliest hours after midnight； Simon caught himself nodding。 He sat up； shaking his head； and listened。 The rain had stopped； but water was still dripping from the way station roof and drizzling on the ground outside。
He crawled over to wake Miriamele； but paused by the bedroll to look at her in the red light of the dying embers。 She had twisted in her sleep； dislodging the cloak she used as a blanket； and her shirt had pulled loose from the top of the men's breeches she wore； exposing a measure of white skin along her side and the shadowed curve of her lowest ribs。 Simon felt his heart turn over in his chest。 He longed to touch her。
His hand； seemingly of its own volition； stole out； his fingers； gentle as butterflies； lit upon her skin。 It was cool and smooth。 He could feel goosebumps rise beneath his touch。
Miriamele made a groggy noise of irritation and brushed at him； flicking as though the butterflies had bee less pleasant insects a…crawling。 Simon quickly withdrew his hand。
He sat for a moment trying to catch his breath； feeling like a thief who had been nearly surprised in his crime。 At last he reached out again； but this time only clasped her shoulder and gave a careful shake。
〃Miriamele。 Wake up； Miriamele。〃
She grunted and rolled over； turning her back to him。 Simon shook her again； a little more strongly this time。 She made a sound of protest and her fingers groped for her cloak without success； as though she sought protection from whatever cruel spirit plagued her。
〃e； Miriamele； it's your turn to keep watch。〃
The princess was sleeping soundly indeed。 Simon leaned closer and spoke into her ear。 〃Wake up。 It's time。〃 Her hair was against his cheek。
Miriamele only half…smiled； as though someone had made a small joke。 Her eyes remained shut。 Simon slid down until he was lying next to her and stared for a few long moments at the curve of her cheek glowing in the emberlight。 He slid his hand down from her shoulder and let it fall across her waist； then moved forward until his chest touched her back。 Now her hair was all along his cheek and his body wrapped hers。 She made a noise that might have been contentment and pushed back against him ever so slightly； then fell silent once more。 Simon held his breath； fearing she would wake； fearing that he himself would cough or sneeze and somehow spoil this achingly splendid moment。 He felt her warmth all down the length of his body。 She was smaller than he； much smaller： he could wrap around her and protect her like a suit of armor。 He thought he would like to lie this way forever。
As the two lay like nestling kittens； Simon drifted into sleep。 The need to keep a watch was forgotten； eased from his mind like a leaf carried away by a river current。
Simon woke up alone。 Miriamele was outside the way station； using a leafless branch to groom her horse。 When she came in； they broke their fast on bread and water。 She said nothing of the night before； but Simon thought he detected a little less brittleness in her manner； as though some of her chill had melted away while they lay huddled in sleep。
They traveled six more days on me River Road； slowed by the monotonous rains that had turned the broad track into sloppy mud。 The weather was so miserable and the road generally so empty that Miriamele's fear of discovery seemed to lessen； although she still kept her face covered when they passed through smallish towns like Bregshame and Garwynswold。 Nights they slept in way stations or beneath the leaky roofs of roadside shrines。 As they sat together each night in the hour between eating and sleeping； Miriamele told Simon stories of her childhood in Meremund。 In return； he recounted his days among the scullions and chambermaids； but as the nights passed； he spoke more and more about his time with Doctor Morgenes； of the old man's good humor and occasionally fierce temper； of his contempt for those who did not ask questions and his delight in life's unexpected plexity。
The night after they passed through Garwynswold； Simon abruptly found himself in tears as he related something Morgenes had once told him about the wonders of beehives。 Miriamele stared； surprised； as he struggled to control himself； afterward she looked at him in a strange way he had not seen before； but although his first impulse was shame； he could not truthfully see anything contemptuous in her expression。
〃I wish he had been my father or my grandfather；〃 he said later。 They had retired to their respective bedrolls。 Although Miriamele was； as usual； an arm's length away； he felt that she was in some way nearer to him than she had been any night since they had kissed。 He had held her since then； of course； but she had been asleep。 Now she lay nearby in the darkness； and he almost thought he felt some unspoken agreement growing between them。 〃He was that kind to me。 I wish he was still alive。〃
〃He was a good man。〃
〃He was more than that。 He was 。。。 He was someone who did things when they needed to be done。〃 Simon felt a tightening in his chest； 〃He died so that Josua and I could escape。 He treated me like 。。。 like I was his own。 It's all wrong。 He shouldn't have had to die。〃
〃Nobody should die；〃 Miriamele said slowly。 〃Especially while they're still alive。〃
Simon lay in silence for a moment； confused。 Before he could ask her what she meant； he felt her cool fingers touch his hand； then nestle into his palm。
〃Sleep well
