按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
wder and fill the crevices between the smaller rocks like mortar。 As Simon looked back up the long disordered slope； the upper reaches of Sikkihoq loomed through the mist and squall like a dark shadow in a doorway。 He was amazed by how far they had e； but on turning found himself disheartened in equal measure by the length of descent that still remained before they would reach the doubtful forts of the Waste below。
Haestan saw his expression and offered Simon the beribboned wineskin that had been the trolls' gift to the guardsman。 〃Two more days t'flat ground； lad；〃 he said； smiling sourly。 〃Have some。〃
Simon warmed himself with a swallow of kangkang before passing it along to Sludig。 A toothy smile showed briefly in the Rimmersman's yellow beard as he lifted the skin to his mouth。 〃Good；〃 he said。 〃It is not the mead I know； or even southern wine； but it is certainly better than nothing。〃
〃God's curse if that don't be truth；〃 Haestan said。 He took the skin back； savoring a long swallow before letting the bag drop to his belt once more。 Simon thought the guardsman's voice a little furry； and realized that Haestan had been drinking all day。 Still； what else did they have to bat the pain in their legs and the monotonous； flurrying snow？ Better a little drunkenness to take off the chill than hours of misery。
Simon squinted against the sleet flying into his face。 He could see the bobbing shapes of the trolls riding just before them； but beyond he could discern only misty shapes。 Somewhere past even the foremost； Binabik and Qantaqa were searching for the best route off the talus slope。 The guttural exclamations of the ram…riders ahead drifted back to Simon on the wind； inprehensible but oddly reassuring。
A stone bounced past his foot and rolled to a halt a few cubits ahead； the sound of its passage obliterated by the song of the wind。 Simon wondered what would happen if a truly large stone ever began rolling downhill toward them。 Would they even hear it above the clamor of the elements？ Or would it be upon them suddenly； like a hand dropping down to crush a fly sunning on a windowsill？ He turned anxiously to look back； seeing in his mind's eye a vast； round shape growing larger； a great stone that would crush all in its path。
There was no great stone； but there were shapes moving on the slope above。 Caught staring open…mouthed； Simon knew a moment's unsureness as he wondered if some strange snow blindness caused him to see things that could not be real； huge shadows flailing in the uncertain light。 Following Simon's backward glance； Sludig opened his eyes wide。
〃Hunen！〃 the Rimmersman shouted。 〃 Vaer Hunen！ There are giants up the slope behind us！〃 Downslope； invisible in the drifting snows； one of the trolls echoed Sludig's alarm with a harsh cry。 Dim； elongated figures were loping down the rock…strewn hill。 Dislodged stones rolled before them； bounding past Simon and his panions as the shouting trolls tried to pull their rams about to face this sudden danger。 The advantage of surprise lost； the charging giants bellowed out wordless challenges in voices that seemed deep enough to shake down the very mountain。 Several huge figures plunged through the mist； brandishing broad clubs like gnarled tree limbs。 The black faces； snarling…mouthed； seemed to float bodilessly in the flurrying snow； but Simon knew the strength in those shaggy white forms。 He recognized Death's face in the leathery masks and Death's inescapable clutch in the broad sinews and lashing arms twice as long as any man's。
〃Binabik！〃 Simon screamed。 〃Giants are ing！〃
One of the Hunen snatched up a boulder and heaved it down the slope。 It struck and spun end over end； bounding downhill like a runaway wagon。 Even as a flurry of troll…spears sliced back through the air toward the attackers； the great stone crunched past Simon and smashed into the nearest ranks of the trolls。 The shrill； terrified bleating of rams and the howls of their broken and dying riders echoed across the foggy slope。 Simon found himself gaping in stunned immobility as a towering shape rose before him； club backflung like the straining arm of a catapult。 As the black bar of shadow whistled down； Simon heard someone call his name； then something struck him aside and he was flung on his face among stones and snow。
A moment later he was on his feet； stumbling back through the mist toward the roaring； contorted shapes of conflict。 Hunen loomed and then disappeared； huge； grasping shadows that at some moments were almost invisible in the flurrying snow。
Inside Simon's mind a hysterical； terrified voice shouted for him to run away； to hide； but the voice was muffled； as though his head were stuffed with cushioning down。 There was blood on his hands； but he did not know whose。 He wiped it absently on his shirt front before reaching down to pull his Qanuc knife from its sheath。 The roaring was all around now。
A group of trolls had couched their spears and were spurring their rams up the slope。 Their bellowing target flailed with a shaggy arm broad as a tree trunk and swept the foremost trolls from their saddles。 Men and mounts together soared back down the rise in a bloody tangle； tumbling to a boneless halt at flight's end； but their trailing fellows drove home half a dozen spears； raising a coughing； sputtering roar from the beleaguered giant。
Simon saw Binabik downslope。 The troll dismounted Qantaqa； who charged off into the swirling shadows of another skirmish。 Binabik was pushing darts into the hollow section of his walking stick…darts with poison…blacked tips； Simon knew…but before Simon could take even a step toward his friend another shape pushed hard against him； then fell to the ground at his feet。
It was Haestan； lying facedown among the stones； the sword Thorn still hanging from his pack。 As Simon stared； something howled so loudly it cut through the fuzziness in his ears and mind； he whirled to see Sludig backing toward him down the unstable slope； his long troll…spear jabbing before him as he retreated from a giant whose angry screams rattled the sky。 The giant's white belly and arms were dotted with crimson bloodflowers； but Sludig； too； was bloodied； his left arm looked as though it had been dipped into a bowl of red paint。
Simon bent and grasped Haestan's cloak； shaking him； but the guardsman was limp。 Grabbing at Thorn's black hilt； Simon pulled it slowly back through the loop on Haestan's pack。 It was cold as frost and heavy as a suit of horse…armor。 Cursing with anger and terror； he tried with all his strength to lift it； but could not bring the point off the ground。 Despite his ever more panicky exertions； he could not even lift the hilt above his waist。
〃Usires； where are You'？〃 he railed； letting the blade fall heavily to the ground like a block of tumbled masonry。 〃Help me！ What use is this damnable sword！？〃 He tried again； praying for God's help； but Thorn lay flat on the ground； beyond his strength。
〃Simon！' Sludig shouted breathlessly。 〃Flee！ I 。。。 cannot。 。 。 ！〃 The giant's shaggy white arm swung out and the Rimmersman stumbled back； just out of reach。 He opened his mouth to call to Simon once more；