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tw.togreenangeltower2-第174章

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       Light! Back again! He fell to his knees; unmindful for a moment of his aching limbs; and pressed his forehead against the stone floor。 He stayed there; trembling。 Light! He was in the world again。
Thank you; Maegwin。 Bless you。 Thank you; Guthwulf。 
       The cat was a gray shape against the gray stone。 Something else tugged at his memory。
I've seen that cat before…or have I? The Hayholt was full of cats。
       The air abruptly contracted and the walls shivered and then bowed inward as though to trap him。 An image passed before his mind's eye; a great tree shivering in storm winds; its branches torn loose and spinning away。 For a moment Simon felt as though he had been turned inside…out。 Even when the vision had gone and all was as it had been; he remained on his knees for long moments; panting。
His four…footed guide stopped and looked around to see if he was still following; then continued on; as though the strange slippage was beneath a cat's notice。 Simon clambered to his feet。
       The creature paused in an archway。 Simon saw a narrow staircase climbing up into darkness。 The cat bumped his shin but did not move on。
       〃Should I go up here?〃 he whispered。 He poked his head into the entranceway。 High above; hidden by the twisting stairwell; another source of light glowed faintly。 
       He stared at the cat for a moment。 The cat stared back; yellow eyes wide。
       〃Very well; then。〃 He touched Bright…Nail; making sure the hilt was not tangled in the rags of his belt; then began to climb。 After a few steps he turned and looked back。 The cat still sat in the middle of the tunnel floor; watching。 〃Aren't you ing?〃
       The gray cat stood and slowly sauntered away down the corridor。 Even if it had possessed the gift of speech; it could not more clearly have told him that from this point he was on his own。
       Simon smiled grimly。
I suppose there's no cat in the world stupid enough to go where I'm going。
He turned and made his way up the shadowed stairs。 The stairwell opened at last into a broad windowless room imperfectly lit by an open hatch door in the ceiling。 As he stepped out from behind the wooden screen that hid the stairway; he realized that he was in one of the storage rooms below the refectory。 He had been in this place before as well; on the momentous; horrible day when he had discovered Prince Josua in Pryrates' prison cell 。。。 but that time the storeroom had been packed to the ceilings with all manner of food and other goods。 Now the barrels that remained lay empty; many in splinters。 Dusty mantles of spiderweb covered the remains; and the few spatters of flour left on the floor were crisscrossed with the tracks of mice。 It looked as though no one had entered the room for some time。
Up above him; he knew; stood the refectory; and the hundreds of other close…huddled buildings of the Inner Bailey。 Looming over them all was the ivory spike of Green Angel Tower。
As he thought of it; he felt Bright…Nail's song grow a little more insistent。
。。。 go there。。。。 It was a whisper at the farthest edge of his thoughts。
       Simon found and replaced the hatchway ladder; which had toppled to the floor; then began to climb。 It creaked ominously; but held。 Beneath its plaining he could hear a faint murmur; as though the hissing voices of the tunnels were following him up from the dark。
The only illumination in the refectory hall was the weak and unevenly pulsing gray light that leaked in through the high windows。 The remaining tables and benches were scattered; some smashed to flinders; but most were gone entirely; perhaps taken to be burned as firewood。 A bleak layer of dust lay everywhere; even on those things which had suffered a violent end; as though the destruction had happened a century before。 A pair of rats scurried across one of the broken tables; paying Simon no heed。
The murmuring noise he had heard was louder here。 The greatest part of it was the wind moaning outside the windows; but there were still hints of voices crying out in pain or anger or fear。 Simon looked up and saw tiny flecks of snow whirling in past the broken shutters。 He thought he could feel Bright…Nail stir; like a hunting beast catching the scent of blood。
       He looked once more around the refectory…taking note; however distractedly; of the damage visited upon his home…then moved as quietly as he could toward the eastern portico。 As he approached the door; he saw that it sagged on broken hinges and he despaired of opening it without noise; but as he came closer and heard the tumult outside he realized no one would hear him even if he were to kick it loose。 The menacing song of the wind had grown; but the shouting voices and other noises had bee louder still; until it sounded as if a great battle were being fought just outside the refectory door。
       He crouched and placed his eye against the wedge of light where the door had edged free from its frame。 It was hard at first to make sense of what he saw。
       There was a battle just outside; or at least great knots of armored men were surging back and forth across the bailey。 The chaos was abetted by the snows which covered the muddy ground and blew through the air like smoke; making everything murky; what sky he could see was full of streaming black clouds。
Lightning flashed; turning all to brilliant noon one instant; then; on its disappearance; making it seem for a moment as though all light had fled。 It looked like a battle at the gates of Hell; a madness of shrieking faces and terrified horses; and it raged like an angry sea all across the snow…smothered bailey。 Trying to make his way through such madness would be choosing to die。
       On the far side; hopelessly out of Simon's reach。 Green Angel Tower stood with its ivory spire wreathed in thunderheads。 Lightning burst across the sky once more; a jagged; flaring chain that seemed to encircle the tower。 Thunder shook his bones。 Staring upward in that instant of savage illumination; Simon saw a pale face gazing from the great bellchamber windows。

31
The False Messenger

       Miriamele was staggeringly exhausted。 She could not imagine how Binabik; with his shorter legs; could still be moving。 She was certain they had been climbing for more than an hour。 How could there be so many steps? Surely by this time they could have reached the Hayholt if they had started from the center of the earth。
       Panting; she stopped to wipe sweat from her face and look back。 Cadrach was two flights down; barely visible in the torchlight。 The monk would not give up; Miriamele had to credit him for that。
       〃Binabik; wait;〃 she called。 〃If I 。。。 if I go another step 。。。 my legs will fall off。〃
       The troll paused; then turned and came back down。 He handed her his water skin; and as she drank; he said: 〃We have almost reached to the castle。 1 can feel the changing of air。〃
Miriamele slumped down onto the wide smooth step; discarding the bow and pack she had been tempted to toss away so many times in the past hour。 〃What air? I haven't had any in my lungs since I don't remember when。〃
       Binabik looked at her solicitously。 〃Mountain…clambering is what we Qanuc learn before we can t
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