srdonaldson.theillearthwar-第39章

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　Bearing　himself　carefully；　Mhoram　turned　back　toward　Covenant。　The　Unbeliever　met　his　gaze　with　a　hot；　oddly　focused　look；　as　if　his　skull　were　splitting　between　his　eyes。　Mhoram　asked　simply；　〃Will　you　e？〃
　Covenant　gripped　the　Lord's　gaze；　and　said；　〃Tell　me　something；　Mhoram。　How　did　you　get　away　when　that　Raver　caught　you…near　Foul's　Creche？〃
　Mhoram　answered　with　a　conscious　serenity；　a　refusal　of　dismay；　which　looked　like　danger　in　his　goldflecked　eyes。　〃The　Bloodguard　with　me　were　slain。　But　when　samadhi　Raver　touched　me；　he　knew　me　as　I　knew　him。　He　was　daunted。〃
　For　a　moment；　Covenant　did　not　move。　Then　he　dropped　his　glance。　Wearily；　he　set　the　stoneware　flask　on　the　table；　pushed　it　over　so　that　it　clicked　against　the　krill。　He　tugged　momentarily　at　his　beard；　then　pulled　himself　to　his　feet。　To　Mhoram's　gaze；　he　looked　like　a　thin　candle　clogged　with　spilth…guttering；frail；　and　portionless。
　〃Yes；〃　he　said。　〃Elena　asked　me　the　same　thing。　For　all　the　good　it'll　do　any　of　us。　I'm　ing。〃
　Awkwardly；　he　shambled　out　onto　the　burning　floor。
　
　
　PART　II
　The　Warmark
　
　
　ELEVEN：　War　Council
　
　HILE　Troy　was　sure　of　one　thing；　despite　whatever　Covenant　said；　the　Land　was　no　dream。　He　perceived　this　with　an　acuteness　which　made　his　heart　ache。
　In　the　〃real〃　world；　he　had　not　been　simply　blind；　he　had　been　eyeless　from　birth。　He　lacked　even　the　organs　of　sight　which　could　have　given　him　a　conception　of　what　vision　was。　Until　the　mysterious　event　which　had　snatched　him　from　between　opposing　deaths；　and　had　dropped　him　on　the　sunlit　grass　of　Trothgard；　light　and　dark　had　been　equally　inprehensible　to　him。　He　had　not　known　that　he　lived　in　immitigable　midnight。　The　tools　with　which　he　had　handled　his　physical　surroundings　had　been　hearing　and　touch　and　language。　His　sense　of　ambience；　his　sensitivity　to　the　auras　of　objects　and　the　resonances　of　space；　was　translated　by　words　until　it　became　his　sole　measure　of　the　concrete　world。　He　had　been　a　good　strategist　precisely　because　his　perceptions　of　space　and　interacting　force　were　pure；　undistracted　by　any　knowledge　of　day　or　night　or　color　or　brilliance　or　illusion。
　Therefore　he　could　not　be　imagining　the　Land。　His　former　mind　had　not　contained　the　raw　materials　out　of　which　such　dreams　were　made。　When　he　appeared　in　the　Land…when　Lord　Elena　taught　him　that　the　rush　of　sensations　which　confused　him　was　sight　the　experience　was　altogether　new。　It　did　not　restore　to　him　something　that　he　had　lost。　It　opened　in　front　of　him　like　an　oracle。
　He　knew　that　the　Land　was　real。
　And　he　knew　that　its　future　hung　by　the　thread　of　his　strategy　in　this　war。　If　he　made　a　mistake；　then　more　brightness　and　color　than　he　could　ever　take　into　account　were　doomed。
　So　when　Ruel；　the　Bloodguard　assigned　to　watch　over　him；　came　to　him　in　his　quarters　and　informed　him　that　a　Ramen　Manethrall　had　arrived　from　the　Plains　of　Ra；　bringing　word　of　Lord　…Foul's　army；　Troy　felt　an　instant　of　panic。　It　had　begun…the　test　of　all　his　training；　planning；　hopes。　If　he　had　believed　Mhoram's　tales　of　a　Creator；　he　would　have　dropped　to　his　knees　to　pray
　But　he　had　never　learned　to　rely　on　anyone　but　himself。　The　Wayward　and　the　strategy　were　his；　he　was　in　mand。　He　paused　just　long　enough　to　strap　the　traditional　ebony　sword　of　the　Warmark　to　his　waist　and　don　his　headband。　Then　he　followed　Ruel　toward　the　Close。
　As　he　moved；　he　was　grateful　for　the　brightness　of　the　torches　in　the　hallways。　Even　with　their　help；　his　sight　was　dim。　In　daylight；　he　could　see　clearly；　with　more　grasp　of　detail　and　more　distance　than　the　fareyed　Giants。　The　sun　brought　distant　things　close　to　him；　at　times；　he　felt　that　he　possessed　more　of　the　Land　than　anyone　else。　But　night　restored　his　blindness　like　an　insistent　reminder　of　where　he　had　e　from。　While　the　sun　was　down；　he　was　lost　without　torches　or　fires。　Starlight　did　not　touch　his　private　darkness；　and　even　a　full　moon　cast　no　more　than　a　gray　smudge　across　his　mind。
　Sometimes　in　the　middle　of　the　night；　his　sightlessness　scared　him　like　a　repudiation　of　sunlight　and　vision。
　By　force　of　habit；　he　adjusted　his　sunglasses。　He　had　worn　them　for　so　long；　out　of　consideration　for　the　people　with　eyes　who　had　to　look　at　him；　that　they　felt　like　a　part　of　his　face。　But　he　never　saw　them；　they　had　no　effect　on　his　vision。　Nothing　that　came　within　six　inches　of　his　orbless　sockets　blocked　his　mental　sight　at　all。
　To　control　his　tension；　he　strode　toward　the　Close　without　hurrying。　At　one　point；　a　group　of　Hafts；　the　manders　of　Eoward；　saluted　him　and　then　jogged　ahead　with　their　swords　clattering；　and　later　Lord　Verement　came　hawklike　down　a　broad　staircase　and　rushed　past　him。　But　he　did　not　vary　his　step　until　he　reached　the　high　doors　of　the　council　chamber。　There　he　found　Quaan　waiting　for　him。
　The　sight　of　the　old　stalwart　Hiltmark　gave　him　a　pang。　In　this　dim　light；　Quaan's　thin　white　hair　made　him　look　frail。　But　he　saluted　Troy　briskly；　and　reported　that　all　fifty　Hafts　were　now　in　the　Close。
　Fifty。　Troy　recited　the　numbers　to　himself　as　if　he　were　repeating　a　rite　of　mand：　Fifty　Eoward；　one　thousand　Eoman；　a　total　of　twenty…one　thousand　fifty　warriors；　First　Haft　Amorine；　Hiltmark　Quaan；　and　himself。　He　nodded　as　if　to　assure　Quaan　that　they　would　be　enough。　Then　he　marched　down　into　the　Close　to　take　his　seat　at　the　Lords'　table。
　Around　him；　the　chamber　was　almost　filled；　and　most　of　the　leaders　were　in　their　chairs。　The　space　was　so　well…lit　that　now　he　could　see　clearly。　The　High　Lord　sat　with　quiet　intensity　at　the　head　of　the　table；　and　between　her　and　him　were　Callindrill；　Trevor；　Loerya；　and　Amatin；　each　keeping　a　private　silence。　But　Troy　knew　them；　and　could　guess　something　of　their　thoughts。　Lord　Loerya　hoped　despite　the　demands　of　her　Lordship　that　she　and　Trevor　would　not　be　chosen　to　leave　Revelstone　and　her　daughters。　And　her　husband　seemed　to　be　remembering　that　he　had　fallen　under　the　strain　of　fighting　the　ill　in　dukkha　Waynhim…remembering；　and　wondering　if　he　had　the　strength　for　this　war。
　About　Elena；　Troy　did　not　speculate。　Her　beauty　confused　him；　he　did　not　want　to　think　that　something　might　happen　to　her　in　this　war。　Deliberately；　he　kept　his　gaze　away　from　her。
　On　her　left　beyond　Mhoram's　empty　chair　was　Lord　Verement　and　two　more　unoccupied　seats　places　for　the　Lords　Shetra　and　Hyrim。　For　a　moment；　Troy　paused　to　wonder　how　Korik's　mission　was　doing。　Four　days　after　their　departure；　word　had　been　brought　to　Revelstone　by　some　of　the　scouts　that　they　had　passed　into　Grimmerdhore　Forest。　But　after　that；　of　course；　Troy　knew　he　could　not　expect　to　hear　any　more　news　until　long　days　after　the　mission　was　over；　for　good　or　ill。　In　the　privacy　of　his　heart；　he　dreamed　that　sometime　during　the　course　of　this　war　he　would　have　the　joy　of　seeing　Giants　march　to　his　aid；　led　by　Hyrim　and　Shetra。　He　missed　them　all；　Shetra　as　much　as　Korik；　Hyrim　as　much　as　the　Giants。　He　feared　that　he　would　need　them。
　Above　and　behind　the　High　Lord；　the　Hearthralls　Tohrm　and　Borillar　sat　in　their　places　with　Hiltmark　Quaan　and　First　Mark　Morin。　And　behind　the　Lords；　spaced　around　the　first　rows　of　seats　in　the　gallery；　were　other　Bloodguard：　Morril；　Bann；　Howor；　Koral；　and　Ruel　on　Troy's　side；　Terrel；　Thomin；　and　Bannor　opposite　him。
　Most　of　the　remaining　people　in　the　Close　were　his　Hafts。　As　a　group　they　were　restless；　tense。　Most　of　them　had　no　experience　of　war；　and　they　had　been　training　rigorously　under　his　demanding　gaze。　He　found　himself　hoping　that　what　they　saw　and　heard　at　this　Council　would　galvanize　their　courage；　turn　their　tightness　into　fortitude。　They　had　such　an　ordeal　ahead　of　them。
　The　few　Lorewardens　visiting　Revelstone　were　all　present；　as　were　the　most　skilled　of　the　Keep's　rhadhamaerl　and　lillianrill。　But　Troy　noticed　that　the　Gravelingas　Trell　was　not　among　them。　He　felt　vaguely　relieved…more　for　Trell's　sake　than　for　Covenant's。
　Shortly；　Lord　Mhoram　entered　the　Close；　bringing　the　Unbeliever　with　him。　Covenant　was　tired…his　hunger　and　weakness　were　plainly　visible　in　the　gaunt　pallor　of　his　face…but　Troy　could　see　that　he　had　suffered　no　real　harm。　And　his　reliance　upon　Mhor