srdonaldson.thepowerthatpreserves-第25章

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the　secret　flavors　and　powers　of　the　Earth。　And　it　is　said　that　the　hurtloam　has…retreated…that　it　has　hidden　itself　to　escape　the　ill　which　is　upon　the　Land。　Or　that　this　winter　has　slain　it。　We　cannot　succor　him　in　that　way。〃
　　　　〃We　must　help　him。　His　very　bones　freeze。〃
　　　　Covenant　felt　himself　being　shifted；　felt　blankets　being　wrapped　around　him。　In　the　background　of　his　haze；　he　thought　he　saw　the　kind　yellow　light　of　graveling。　That　pleased　him；　he　could　rest　better　if　the　gray　fog　did　not　dominate　everything。
　　　　After　a　moment；　Triock　said　uncertainly；　〃It　is　possible　that　the　power　of　the　High　Wood　can　help　him。〃
　　　　〃Then　begin！〃　the　Giant　urged。
　　　　〃I　am　no　Hirebrand。　I　have　no　lillianrill　lore…I　have　only　studied　this　matter　in　the　Loresraat　for　a　year…after　High　Lord　Mhoram　gave　the　lomillialor　to　me。　I　cannot　control　its　power。〃
　　　　〃Nevertheless！　You　must　make　the　attempt。〃
　　　　Triock　protested。　〃The　High　Wood　test　of　truth　may　quench　the　last　flicker　within　him。　Hale　and　whole；　he　might　fail　such　testing。〃
　　　　〃Without　it　he　will　surely　die。〃
　　　　Triock　snarled　under　his　breath；　then　said　grimly；　〃Yes。　Yes；　Rock…brother。　You　out　see　me。　Keep　life　within　him。　I　must　prepare。〃
　　　　In　a　mood　of　sadness；　Covenant　saw　that　the　yellow　light　was　receding　into　gray　around　him。　He　did　not　know　how　he　could　bear　to　lose　it。　Raw；　reviling　fog　had　no　right　to　outweigh　graveling　in　the　balance　of　the　Land。　And　there　was　no　more　hurtloam。　No　more　hurtloam；　he　repeated　with　an　unexpected　pang。　His　sorrow　turned　to　anger。　By　hell！　Foul；　he　grated　mutely；　you　can't　do　this。　I　won't　let　you。　The　hate　for　which　he　had　been　groping　a　night　and　a　world　earlier　began　to　return　to　him。　With　the　strength　of　anger；　he　pried　his　eyes　open。
　　　　Triock　was　standing　over　him。　The　Stonedownor　held　his　lomillialor　rod　as　if　he　meant　to　drive　it　like　a　spike　between　Covenant's　eyes。　In　his　hands；　the　white　wood　shone　hotly；　and　steam　plumed　from　it　into　the　chill　air。　A　smell　of　wood　sap　joined　the　loamy　odor　of　the　graveling。
　　　　Muttering　words　that　Covenant　could　not　understand；　Triock　brought　the　rod　down　until　its　end　touched　the　infected　fever　in　his　forehead。
　　　　At　first；　he　felt　nothing　from　the　contact；　the　lomillialor　pulsed　effectlessly　on　his　wound　as　if　he　were　immune　to　it。　But　then　he　was　touched　from　another　direction。　An　exquisite　ache　of　heat　cut　through　the　ice　in　his　left　palm；　spreading　from　the　ring　he　wore。　It　sliced　into　him；　then　moved　up　through　his　wrist。　It　hurt　him　as　if　it　were　flaying　cold　and　flesh　°ff　his　bones；　but　the　pain　gave　him　a　kind　of　savage　pleasure。　Soon　his　whole　left　arm　was　livid　with　excruciation。　And　under　the　heat　his　bruises　reawoke；　came　back　from　the　dead。
　　　　When　the　hold　of　the　ice　had　been　broken　that　far；　it　began　to　give　way　in　other　places。　Warmth　from　the　blankets　reached　toward　his　battered　ribs。　The　joints　of　his　legs　throbbed　as　if　they　had　been　kicked　into　consciousness。　In　moments；　his　forehead　remembered　its　anguish。
　　　　Then　Triock　transferred　the　tip　of　the　High　Wood　from　his　forehead　to　the　tight　black　swelling　of　his　lip。　At　once；　agony　erupted　within　him；　and　he　plunged　into　it　as　if　it　were　solace。
　　　　He　returned　to　consciousness　slowly；　but　when　he　opened　his　eyes　he　knew　that　he　had　bee　steadier。　His　wounds　were　not　healed；　both　his　forehead　and　mouth　ached　like　goads　embedded　in　his　flesh；　and　his　body　moaned　with　bruises。　But　the　ice　no　longer　gnawed　his　bones。　The　swelling　of　his　lip　was　reduced；　and　his　sight　had　improved；　as　if　the　lenses　of　his　eyes　had　been　cleaned。　Yet　he　felt　a　private　grief　at　the　numbness　which　clung　to　his　hands　and　feet。　His　dead　nerves　had　not　yet　rediscovered　the　health　which　he　had　learned　to　expect　from　the　Land。
　　　　But　he　was　alive…he　was　in　the　Land…he　had　seen　Foamfollower。　He　set　aside　the　distress　of　his　nerves　for　another　time；　and　looked　around　him。
　　　　He　lay　in　a　small；　sheer　valley　nestled　among　the　mountains　behind　Kevin's　Watch。　While　he　had　been　unconscious；　the　enshrouding　sea　of　clouds　had　receded　a　few　hundred　feet；　and　now　light　snow　filled　the　air　like　murmuring。　Already　an　inch　of　it　blanketed　him。　Something　in　the　timbre　of　the　snow　gave　him　the　impression　that　the　time　was　late　afternoon。　But　he　was　not　concerned　about　time。　He　had　been　in　this　valley　once　before；　with　Lena。
　　　　The　memory　of　it　contrasted　starkly　with　what　he　saw。　It　had　been　a　quiet；　grassy　place　girdled　with　pines　like　tall　sentinels　guarding　its　quietude；　and　a　sprightly　brook　flowing　down　its　center。　But　now　only　bare；　wasted　earth　showed　through　the　thickening　snow。　The　pines　had　been　stripped　naked　and　splintered　by　more　winter　than　they　could　survive；　and　instead　of　water；　a　weal　of　ice　ran　through　the　valley　like　a　scar　already　old。
　　　　Covenant　wondered　painfully　how　long　this　weather　would　last。
　　　　The　implications　of　that　question　made　him　shiver；　and　he　fought　his　tired　frame　into　a　sitting　position　so　that　he　could　lean　closer　to　the　pot　of　graveling。　As　he　did　so；　he　saw　three　figures　sitting　around　another　pot　a　short　distance　away。　One　of　them　observed　his　movement　and　spoke　to　the　others。　At　once　Triock　stood　and　strode　toward　Covenant。　He　squatted　near　the　Unbeliever；　and　studied　him　gravely　before　saying；　〃You　have　been　grievously　ill。　My　lore　does　not　suffice　to　heal　you。　But　I　see　that　you　are　no　longer　dying。〃
　　　　〃You　saved　me；〃　Covenant　said　as　bravely　as　he　could　through　the　pain　of　his　mouth　and　his　inanition。
　　　　〃Perhaps。　I　am　unsure。　The　wild　magic　has　been　at　work　in　you。〃　Covenant　stared；　and　Triock　went　on：　〃It　appeared　that　the　lomillialor　drew　a　response　from　the　white　gold　of　your　ring。　With　that　power；　you　surpass　any　test　of　truth　I　might　give。〃
　　　　My　ring；　Covenant　thought　dully。　But　he　was　not　ready　to　deal　with　that　idea；　and　he　set　it　aside　also。　〃You　saved　me；〃　he　repeated。　〃There　are　things　I　need　to　know。〃
　　　　〃Let　them　be。　You　must　eat　now。　You　have　not　taken　food　for　many　days。〃　He　looked　around　through　the　snow；　then　said；　〃Saltheart　Foam…follower　brings　you　aliantha。〃
　　　　Covenant　heard　heavy　feet　moving　across　the　frozen　ground。　A　moment　later　Foamfollower　knelt　with　a　quiet　smile　beside　him。　Both　his　hands　were　full　of　viridian　treasure…berries。
　　　　Covenant　looked　at　the　aliantha。　He　felt　he　had　forgotten　what　to　do　with　them；　he　had　been　hungry　for　so　long　that　hunger　had　bee　a　part　of　him。　But　he　could　not　refuse　the　offer　behind　the　Giant's　kind　smile。　Slowly；　he　reached　out　a　numb　hand　and　took　one　of　the　treasure…berries。
　　　　When　he　slipped　it　past　his　lip　and　bit　into　it；　the　tangy　salt…peach　flavor　which　blossomed　in　his　mouth　seemed　to　refute　all　his　reasons　for　fasting。　And　as　he　swallowed；　he　could　feel　nourishment　rushing　eagerly　into　him。　He　spit　the　seed　into　his　palm；　as　if　he　were　pleting　a　ritual；　he　dropped　it　over　his　shoulder。　Then　he　began　to　eat　rapidly；　wolfishly。
　　　　He　did　not　stop　until　Foamfollower's　hands　were　empty。　Sighing　as　if　he　longed　for　more；　he　sowed　the　last　seed　behind　him。
　　　　The　Giant　nodded　approval　and　seated　himself　in　a　more　relaxed　position　near　the　graveling。　Triock　followed　his　example。　When　they　were　both　looking　at　him；　Covenant　said　softly；　〃　I　won'　t　forget　this。〃　He　could　not　think　of　any　other　way　to　express　his　thanks。
　　　　Triock　frowned　sharply。　He　asked　Foamfollower；　〃Does　he　threaten　us　now？〃
　　　　The　Giant's　cavernous　eyes　searched　Covenant's　face。　He　smiled　wanly　as　he　replied；　〃The　Unbeliever　has　a　mournful　turn　of　speech。　He　does　not　threaten…he　does　not　threaten　us。〃
　　　　Covenant　felt　a　surge　of　grim　gratitude　for　Foamfollower's　understanding。　He　tried　to　smile　in　return；　but　the　tightness　of　his　lip　prevented　him。　He　winced　at　the　effort；　then　pulled　his　blankets　more　closely　around　him。　He　sensed　a　depth　of　cold　answers　behind　the　questions　he　needed　to　ask。
　　　　But　he　did　not　know　how　to　ask　them。　Triock's　bitter　mouth　and　Foamfollower's　scars　intruded　between　him　and　his　summoners；　he　feared　that　he　was　to　blame　for　the　tales　they　might　tell　him　if　he　asked。　Yet　he　had　to　know　the　answers；　had　to　know　where　he　stood。　The　first　outlines　of　purpose　were　taking　shap