tw.togreenangeltower2-第39章
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plit timbers； plain but surprisingly large。 Smoke twined from a hole in the roof。
Miriamele was taken aback。 She turned to Gullaighn； suddenly full of misgivings。 〃Who else lives here？〃
The woman gave no answer。
Miriamele saw movement in the doorway of the house。 A moment later； a man emerged onto the dark hardpacked earth before the door。 He was short and thicknecked； clothed in a white robe。
〃We meet again；〃 said Maefwaru。 〃Our visit in the tavern was too short。〃
Miriamele heard Simon curse； then the scrape of his sword leaving the scabbard。 He pulled at her bridle to turn her horse around。
〃Don't；〃 Maefwaru said。 He whistled。 A half…dozen more white…robed figures stepped from the shadows around the edge of the clearing。 In the twilight； they seemed ghosts bom from the secretive trees。 Several of them had drawn their bows。
〃Roelstan； you and your woman move away。〃 The bald man sounded almost pleasant。 〃You have done what you were sent to do。〃
〃Curse you； Maefwaru！〃 Gullaighn cried。 〃On the Day of Weighing…Out； you will eat your own guts for sausages！〃
Maefwaru laughed； a deep nimble。 〃Is that so？ Move； woman； before I have someone put an arrow in you。〃
As her husband dragged her away； Gullaighn turned to Miriamele with eyes full of tears。 〃Forgive us； my lady。 They caught us again。 They made us！〃
Miriamele's heart was cold as a stone。
〃What do you want with us； you coward？〃 Simon demanded。
Maefwaru laughed again； wheezing a little。 〃It is not what we want of you； young master。 It is what the Storm King wants of you。 And we will find out tonight； when we give you to Him。〃 He waved to the other white…robed figures。 〃Bind them。 There is much to do before midnight。〃
As the first of the Fire Dancers seized his arms； Simon turned to Miriamele； his face full of anger and desperation。 She knew that he wished to fight； to make them kill him instead of simply surrendering； but was afraid to for her sake。
Miriamele could give him nothing。 She had nothing left inside of her but stifling dread。
8
A Confession
〃Unto her side he came； he came；〃 sang Maegwin；
〃A youth dressed all in sable black
With golden curls about his head
And silken cape upon his back。
'And what would you my lady fair？'
That golden youth did smile and say。
'What rare gift may I give to you；
So you will be my bride this day？
The maiden turned her face aside。
'There is no gift so rich； so fine；
That I would give you in return
That rare thing that is only mine。'
The youth he shook his golden head
And laughed and said； 'Oh； maiden sweet
You may turn me away today；
But soon find that you can't say no。
My name is Death； and all you have
Will e to me anyway 。。。' 〃
It was no use。 Over the sound of her own melody； she could still hear the odd wailing that seemed to portend so much unhappiness。
Maegwin's song trailed off and she stared into the flames of the campfire。 Her cold…cracked lips made it painful to sing。 Her ears stung and her head hurt。 Nothing was as it should be…nothing was as she had expected。
It had seemed at first that things were going the way they should。 She had been a dutiful daughter to the gods： it was no surprise that after her death she should be raised up to live among them…not as an equal； of course； but as a trusted subordinate； a beloved servant。 And in their strange way the gods had proved every bit as wondrous as she had imagined they would； with their inhuman； flashing eyes and their rainbow…hued armor and clothing。 Even the land of the gods had been much as she had expected； like her own beloved Hernystir； but better； cleaner； brighter。 The sky in the godlands seemed higher and more blue than a sky could be； the snow whiter； the grass so green that its verdancy was almost painful。 Even Count Eolair； who had also died and e to this beautiful eternity； seemed more open； more approachable； she had been able to tell him without fear or shyness that she had always loved him。 Eolair； relieved like her of the burden of mortality； had listened with kind concern…almost like a god himself！
But then things had begun to go wrong。
Maegwin had thought mat when she and the other living Hernystiri had faced their enemies； and by doing so brought the gods out into the world； they had somehow tipped a balance。 The gods themselves were at war； just as the Hernystiri…but the gods' war had not been won。 The worst； it seemed； was yet to e。
And so the gods had ridden across the broad white fields of Heaven； searching for Scadach； the hole into outer darkness。 And they had found it。 Cold and black it was； bounded in stone quarried from eternity's darkest recesses； just as the lore…masters had taught her…and full of the gods' direst enemies。
She had never believed that such things could exist； creatures of pure evil； shining vessels of emptiness and despair。 But she had seen one stand on the ageless wall of Scadach； heard its lifeless voice prophesy the destruction of gods and mortals alike。 All that was wrong lay behind that wall 。。。 and now the gods were trying to bring the wall tumbling down。
Maegwin would have guessed that the ways of gods were mysterious。 What she would not have guessed was just how mysterious they could be。
She raised her voice in song again； still hoping that she could blot out the disturbing noise； but gave it up after a few moments。 The gods themselves were singing； and their voices were much stronger than hers。
Why don't they stop？ she thought desperately。 Why don't they leave it alone？！
But it was useless to wonder。 The gods had their reasons。 They always did。
Eolair had long since given up trying to understand the Sithi。 He knew they were not gods； whatever Maegwin's poor； fevered mind might see； but neither were they a great deal more prehensible than the Lords of Heaven。
The count turned away from the fire； turned his back on Maegwin。 She had been singing to herself； but had fallen silent。 She had a sweet voice； but set against the chanting of the Peaceful Ones it sounded thin and discordant。 It was not her fault。 No mortal voice would sound like much when set against 。。。 this。
The Count of Nad Mullach shivered。 The chorus of Sithi voices rose again。 Their music was as impossible to ignore as were their catlike eyes when they stared you in the face。 The rhythmic song gained in volume； pulsing like the oar…master's call to his rowers。
The Sithi had been singing for three days； clustered before the bleak walls of Naglimund in the flurrying snow。 Whatever they were doing； the Norns within the castle did not ignore them： several times the white…faced defenders had mounted to the tops of the walls and let fly a volley of arrows。 A few of the Sithi had been killed in these attacks； but they had their own archers。 Each time； the Norns were driven from the walls and the Sithi voices would rise once more。
〃I don't know that I can stand this much longer； Eolair。〃 Isorn appeared out of the whirl of mist； his beard jeweled with frost。 〃I had to go hunting just to get away； but the noise followed me as far as I went。〃 He dropped a hare onto the ground near the fire。 Red dribbled from the arrow…wound in its side； staining the snow。 〃Good day； Lady；〃 the duke's son said to Maegwin。 She had stopped singing； but did not look up at him。 She seemed incapable of seeing anything but the wavering fire。
Eolair received Isorn's curious look and shrugged。 〃It is not really such a terrible sound。〃
The Rimmersman raised his eyebrows。 〃No； Eolair； it is beautiful in its way。 But it is too beautiful for me； too strong； too strange。 It is making me ill。〃
The count frowned。 〃I know。 The rest of the men are unsettled； too。 More than unsettled…frightened。〃
〃But why are the Sithi doing this？ They are risking their lives…two more were killed yesterday！ If this is some fairy ceremony they must perform； can they not sing out of bowshot？〃
Eolair shook his head helplessly。 〃I do not know。 Bagba bite me； I do not know anything； Isorn。〃
As continual as the noise of the ocean；
