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！
ed no spies； no peasant boys skulking about。 Even did I not hear the voices that howl through the sleepless nights； still the king is no fool。 What is this trip to Wentmouth； that Pryrates should go there yet again even as the red star is rising？ What is at Wentmouth but a hill and a harbor flame？ What is to be done there that has not been done already？ He says it is part of the great design； but I do not believe him。 I do not believe him。〃
Elias was panting now； hunched over with his shoulders moving as though he tried to swallow and could not。 Simon leaned away； but his arm was still firmly prisoned。 He thought that if he flung himself backward as hard as he could he might break free； but the idea of what would happen if he failed…if he only brought the king's attention back to where he was and what he was doing…was enough to make him stay shivering on his knees beside the chair。 Then the king's next words pushed thought of escape from his mind。
〃I should have known that there was something wrong when he told me about the swords；〃 the king grated。 〃I am no fool； to be frightened with such kitchen tales； but that sword of my father's…it burned me！ Like it was cursed。 And then I was given 。。。 the other one。〃 Although it hung at his hip only a few scant inches away； the king did not look at Sorrow； but instead turned his haunted stare up toward the ceiling。 〃It has 。。。 changed me。 Pryrates says it is for the best。 Said that I will not gain what he promised me unless the bargain is kept。 But it is inside me like my own blood now； this sorcerous thing。 It sings to me all through the night hours。 Even in the daytime it is like a demon crouched beside me。 Cursed blade！〃
Simon waited for the king to say more； but Elias had fallen into another rough…breathing silence； his head still tilted back。 At last； when it seemed that the king had truly fallen asleep； or had forgotten entirely what he had been saying； Simon nerved himself to speak。
〃A…and your f…f…father's sword？ Where is it？〃
Elias lowered his gaze。 〃It is in his grave。〃 His eyes held Simon's for a moment； then the muscles of his jaw tightened and his teeth appeared in a mirthless grin。 〃And what is it to you； spy？ Why does Pryrates wish to know about that sword？ I have heard it spoken of in the night。 I have heard much。〃 His hand reached up and the fingers wrapped around Simon's face like bands of steel。 Elias coughed harshly and wheezed for breath； but his clutch did not loosen。 〃Your master would have been proud of you if you had escaped to tell him。 The sword； is it？ The sword？ Is that part of his plan； to use my father's sword against me？〃 The king's face was streaming sweat。 His eyes seemed entirely black； holes into a skull full of twittering darkness。 〃What does your master plan？〃 He heaved in another difficult breath。 〃T…t…tell me！〃
〃I don't know anything！〃 cried Simon。 〃I swear！〃
Elias was shaken by a wracking cough。 He slid back in the chair； letting go of his prisoner's face； Simon could feel the icy burn where the fingers had been。 The hand on his wrist tightened as the king coughed again and gasped for breath。
〃God curse it；〃 Elias panted； 〃Go find my cupbearer。〃
Simon froze like a startled mouse。
〃Do you hear me？〃 The king〃 let go of Simon's wrist and waved at him angrily。 〃Get the monk。 Tell him to bring my cup。〃 He sucked in another draught of air。 〃Find my cupbearer。〃
Simon pushed himself back along the stone until he was out of the king's reach。 Elias was sunken in shadow once more； but his cold presence was still strong。 Simon's arm throbbed where the king had squeezed it； but the pain was as nothing next to the heartbreaking possibility of escape。 He struggled to his feet； and doing so； knocked over a stack of books； when they thumped to the floor Simon cringed； but Elias did not move。
〃Get him；〃 the king growled。
Simon moved slowly toward the door； certain that at any moment he would hear the king lurch to his feet behind him。 He reached the landing； out of sight of the chair； then； within a moment； he was on the stairway。 He did not even grab for his torch； though it was within arm's reach； but hurried down the stairs in darkness； his feet as surefooted as if he walked a meadow in sunlight。 He was free！ Beyond all hope； he was free！ Free！
On the stairs just above the first landing a small； dark…haired woman stood。 He had a momentary glimpse of her yellowish eyes as she stepped out of his way。 Silent； she watched him pass。
He hit the tower's outside doors at a rush and burst through into the foggy； moonlit Inner Bailey； feeling as though he could suddenly sprout wings and mount up into the clouded sky。 He had only taken two steps before the cat…silent； black…cloaked figures were upon him。 They caught him as firmly as the king had； holding both his arms pinioned。 The white faces stared at him dispassionately。 The Norns did not seem at all surprised to have captured an unfamiliar mortal on the steps of Hjeldin's Tower。
As Rachel shrank back in alarm； the bundle in her hand fell to the rough stone floor。 She flinched at the noise it made。
The crunch of footsteps grew louder and a glow like dawn crept up the tunnel： they would be upon her in a moment。 Backed into a crevice in the stone wall； Rachel looked around for somewhere to hide her lamp。 At last； in desperation； she put the treacherously bright thing between her feet and bent over it； draping her cloak around her like a curtain so that its hem spread out onto the ground。 She could only hope that the torches they carried blinded them to the light that must leak from beneath。 Rachel clenched her teeth and silently prayed。 The oily smell of the lamp was already making her feel ill。
The men who were approaching moved at a leisurely pace…far too leisurely to miss an old woman hiding behind her cloak； she was fearfully certain。 Rachel thought she would die if they stopped。
〃。。。they like those white…skinned things so much； they should put them to work；〃 a voice said； being audible above the noise of footfalls。 〃All the priest has us doing is carrying away stones and dirt and running errands。 That's no job for guardsmen。〃
〃And who are you to say？〃 another man asked。
〃Just because the king gives Red…robe a free hand doesn't mean that we 。。。〃 the first began； but was interrupted。
〃And I suppose you would tell him otherwise？〃 a third cackled。 〃He would eat you for supper and toss the bones away！〃
〃Shut your mouth；〃 the first snapped； but there was not much confidence in his tone。 He resumed more quietly。 〃All the same； there's something dead wrong down here； dead wrong。 I saw one of those corpse…faces waiting in the shadows to talk to him。。。。〃
The scrape of boots on stone diminished。 Within a few moments； the corridor was silent again。
Gasping for air； Rachel flapped her cloak out of the way and staggered from the alcove。 The fumes of the lamp seemed to have seeped right into her head； for a moment the walls tilted。 She put a hand out to steady herself。
Blessed Saint Rhiap； she breathed voicelessly； thank you f