srdonaldson.theillearthwar-第95章

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lt　that　he　had　lost　every　other　form　of　self…protection。　And　without　self　protection　he　would　end　up　like　the　old　man　he　had　met　in　the　leprosarium…crippled　and　fetid　beyond　all　endurance。　Even　madness　would　be　preferable。　If　he　went　mad；　he　would　at　least　be　insulated　from　knowing　what　was　happening　to　him；　blind　and　deaf　and　numb　to　the　vulturine　disease　that　gnawed　his　flesh。
　Yet　as　he　rode　westward　away　from　Revelwood　with　High　Lord　Elena；　Amok；　and　the　two　Bloodguard；　in　quest　of　Kevin　Landwaster's　Seventh　Ward；　he　knew　that　he　was　changing。　By　fits　and　starts；　his　ground　shifted　under　him；　some　potent；　subtle　Earthpower　altered　his　personal　terrain。　Unstable　footing　shrugged　him　toward　a　precipice。　And　he　felt　helpless　to　do　anything　about　it。
　The　most　threatening　aspect　of　his　immediate　situation　was　Elena。　Her　nameless　inner　force；　her　ancestry；　and　her　strange　irrefusability　both　disturbed　and　attracted　him。　As　they　left　the　Valley　of　Two　Rivers；　he　was　already　cursing　himself　for　accepting　her　invitation。　And　yet　she　had　the　power　to　sway　him。　She　tangled　his　emotions；　and　pulled　unexpected　strands　of　assent　out　of　the　knot。
　This　was　not　like　his　other　acquiescences。　When　Lord　Mhoram　had　asked　him　to　go　with　the　Warward；　he　had　agreed　because　he　pletely　lacked　alternatives。　He　urgently　needed　to　keep　moving；　keep　searching　for　an　escape。　No　similar　reasoning　vindicated　him　when　the　High　Lord　had　asked　him　to　acpany　her。　He　felt　that　he　was　riding　away　from　the　crux　of　his　dilemma；　the　battle　against　Lord　Foul　…evading　it　like　a　coward。　But　in　the　moment　of　decision　he　had　not　even　considered　　refusing。　And　he　sensed　that　she　could　draw　him　farther。　Hopelessly；　without　one　jot　or　tittle　of　belief　to　his　name；　he　could　be　made　to　follow　her；　even　if　she　went　to　attack　the　Despiser　himself。　Her　beauty；　her　physical　presence；　her　treatment　of　him；　ate　away　portions　of　his　armor；　exposing　his　vulnerable　flesh。
　Traveling　through　the　crisp　autumn　of　Trothgard；　he　watched　her　alertly；　timorously。
　High　and　proud　on　the　back　of　Myrha；　her　Ranyhyn；　she　looked　like　a　crowned　vestal；　somehow　both　powerful　and　fragile…as　if　she　could　have　shattered　his　bones　with　a　glance；　and　yet　would　have　fallen　from　her　seat　at　the　touch　of　a　single　hurled　handful　of　mud。　She　daunted　him。
　When　Amok　appeared　beside　her　as　if　concretized　abruptly　out　of　blank　air；　she　turned　to　speak　with　him。　They　exchanged　greetings；　and　bantered　pleasantly　like　old　friends　while　Revelwood　fell　into　the　distance　behind　them。　Amok's　reticence　on　the　subject　of　his　Ward　did　not　prevent　him　from　gay　prolixity　in　other　matters。　Soon　he　was　singing　and　talking　happily　as　if　his　sole　function　were　to　entertain　the　High　Lord。
　As　Amok　whiled　away　the　morning；　Covenant　gazed　over　the　countryside　around　him。
　The　party　of　the　quest　rode　easily　up　out　of　the　lowlands　of　Trothgard。　They　traveled　a　few　points　south　of　westward；　roughly　paralleling　the　course　of　the　Rill　River　toward　the　Westron　Mountains。　The　western　edge　of　Trothgard；　still　sixty　or　sixty…five　leagues　away；　was　at　least　three　thousand　feet　higher　than　the　Valley　of　Two　Rivers；　and　the　whole　region　slowly　climbed　toward　the　mountains。　Already　the　High　Lord's　party　moved　into　the　gradual　uprise。　Covenant　could　feel　their　relaxed　ascent　as　they　rode　through
　woodlands　anademed　in　autumn；　ablaze　with　orange；　yellow；　gold；　red　leaf…flames；　and　over　lush　grassy　hillsides；　where　the　scars　of　Stricken　Stone's　ancient　wars　had　been　effaced　by　thick　heather　and　timothy　like　healthy　new　flesh　over　the　wounds；　green　with　healing。
　He　was　barely　able　to　sense　the　last　hints　of　Trothgard's　convalescence。　Under　the　mantling　growth　of　grass　and　trees；　all　the　injuries　of　Kevin's　last　war　had　not　been　undone。　From　time　to　time；　the　riders　passed　near　festering　barren　patches　which　still　refused　all　repair；　and　some　of　the　hills　seemed　to　lie　awkwardly；　like　broken　bones　imperfectly　set。　But　the　Lords　had　labored　to　good　effect。　The　air　of　Trothgard　was　tangy；　animate；　vital。　Very　few　of　the　trees　showed　that　their　roots　ran　down　into　once…desecrated　soil。　The　new　Council　of　Lords　had　found　a　worthy　way　to　spend　their　lives。
　Because　of　what　it　had　suffered；　Trothgard　touched　Covenant's　heart。　He　found　that　he　liked　it；　trusted　it。　At　times　as　the　day　passed　into　afternoon；　he　wished　that　he　was　not　going　anywhere。　He　wanted　to　roam　Trothgard　destinationless；　preferably　alone…without　any　thought　of　Wards　or　rings　or　wars。　He　would　have　weled　the　rest。
　Amok　seemed　a　fit　guide　for　such　sojourns。　The　bearer　of　the　Seventh　Ward　moved　with　a　sprightly；　boyish　stride　which　disguised　the　fact　that　the　pace　he　set　was　not　a　lazy　one。　And　his　good　spirits　bubbled　irrepressibly。　He　sang　long　songs　which　he　claimed　to　have　learned　from　the　faery　Elohim…songs　so　alien　that　Covenant　could　distinguish　neither　words　nor　sentences；　and　yet　so　curiously　suggestive；　so　like　moonlight　in　a　forest；　that　they　half　entranced　him。　And　Amok　told　intimate　tales　of　the　stars　and　heavens；　describing　merrily　the　sky　dance　as　if　he　had　pranced　in　it　himself。　His　happy　voice　plemented　the　clear；　keen　evening　air　and　the　sunset　conflagration　of　the　trees；　interwove　his　listeners　like　an　incantation；　a　mesmerism。
　Yet　in　the　twilight　of　Trothgard；　he　disappeared
　suddenly；　gestured　himself　out　of　visibility；　leaving　the　High　Lords'　party　alone。
　Covenant　was　startled　out　of　his　reverie。　〃Where…？〃
　〃Amok　will　return；〃　answered　Elena。　In　the　gloaming；　he　could　not　tell　if　she　were　looking　at　him　or　through　him　or　into　him　or　in　spite　of　him。　〃He　has　only　left　us　for　the　night。　e；　ur…Lord；〃　she　said　as　she　dropped　lightly　down　from　Myrha's　back。　〃Let　us　rest。〃
　Covenant　followed　her　example；　released　his　mount　to　Bannor's　care。　Myrha　and　the　other　two　Ranyhyn　galloped　away；　stretching　their　legs　after　a　day's　walking。　Then　Morin　went　to　the　Rill　for　water　while　Elena　began　to　make　camp。　She　produced　a　small　urn　of　graveling；　and'　used　the　fire…stones　to　cook　a　frugal　meal　for　herself　and　Covenant。　Her　face　followed　the　motion　of　her　hands；　but　her　vision's　strange　otherness　was　far　distant；　as　if　in　the　earthy　light　she　read　of　events　on　the　opposite　edge　of　the　Land。
　Covenant　watched　her；　in　the　performance　of　even　the　simplest　chores　she　fascinated　him。　But　as　he　studied　her　lithe　form；　her　sure　movements；　her　bifurcated　gaze；　he　was　trying　to　regain　a　grip　on　himself；　trying　to　recover　some　sense　of　where　he　stood　with　her。　She　was　a　mystery　to　him。　Out　of　all　the　strong　and　knowledgeable　people　of　the　Land；　she　had　chosen　him　to　acpany　her。　He　had　raped　her　mother　…and　still　she　had　chosen　him。　In　Glimmermere　she　had　kissed…　The　memory　made　his　heart　hurt。　She　had　chosen　him。　But　not　out　of　anger　or　desire　for　retribution…not　for　any　reason　that　Trell　would　have　approved。　He　could　see　in　her　smiles；　hear　in　her　voice；　feel　in　her　ambience　that　she　intended　him　no　harm。　Then　why？　From　what　secret　forgetfulness　or　passion　did　her　desire　for　his　pany　spring？　He　needed　to　know。　And　yet　he　was　half　afraid　of　the　answer。
　After　supper；　when　he　sat　drinking　his　ration　of　springwine　across　the　pot　of　graveling　from　Elena；　he　mustered　his　courage　to　question　her。　Both　Bloodguard　had　withdrawn　from　the　campsite；　and　he　was
　relieved　that　he　did　not　have　to　contend　with　them。　Rubbing　his　fingers　through　his　beard；　remembering　the　peril　of　physical　sensations；　he　began　by　asking　her　if　she　had　learned　anything　from　Amok。
　She　shook　her　head　unconcernedly；　and　her　hair　haloed　her　head　in　the　graveling　light。　〃We　are　surely　several　days　from　the　location　of　the　Seventh　Ward。　There　will　be　time　enough　for　the　questioning　of　Amok。〃
　He　accepted　this；　but　it　did　not　meet　his　need。　Tightening　his　hold　on　himself；　he　asked　her　why　she　had　chosen　him。
　She　gazed　at　him　or　through　him　for　several　moments　before　she　replied。　〃Thomas　Covenant；　you　know　that　I　did　not　choose　you。　No　Lord　of　Revelstone　chose　you。　Drool　Rockworm　performed　your　first　summoning；　and　he　was　guided　by　the　Despiser。　In　that　way；　we　are　your　victims；　just　as　you　are　his。　It　may　be　as　Lord　Mhoram　believes…perhaps　the　Land's　Creator　also　chose。　Or　perhaps　t