srdonaldson.theillearthwar-第66章

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ll　review　of　the　Warward。　Soon　Mhoram　was　mounted　on　his　Ranyhyn；　Drinny　son　of　Hynaril；　and　riding　on　toward　Cravenhaw。
　He　spent　most　of　that　day　watching　over　the　Warmark。　But　the　next　morning；　while　the　Warward　made　its　final　approach　to　Garroting　Deep；　he　was　forced　to　turn　his　attention　to　his　task。　He　had　to　plan　some　way　in　which　to　keep　his　promise。　He　melded　his　thoughts　with　Lord　Callindrill；　and　together　they　searched　through　their　bined　knowledges　and　intuitions　for　some　key　to　Mhoram's　dilemma。　In　his　dread；　he　hoped　to　gain　courage　from　the　melding；　but　the　ache　of　Callindrill's　self…distrust　denied　him。　Instead　of　receiving　strength；　Mhoram　gave　it。
　With　Callindrill's　help；　he　prepared　an　approach　to　his　task；　arranged　a　series　of　possible　answers　according　to　their　peril　and　likelihood　of　success。　But　by　noon；　he　had　found　nothing　definitive。　Then　he　ran　out　of　time。　The　Warward　staggered　to　a　halt　at　the　very　brink　of　Garroting　Deep。
　There；　face…to…face　with　the　One　Forest's　last　remaining　consciousness；　Lord　Mhoram　began　to　taste　the　full　gall　of　his　inadequacy。　The　Deep's　dark；　atavistic　rage　left　him　effectless；　he　felt　like　a　man　with　no　fingers。　The　first　trees　were　within　a　dozen　yards　of　him。　Like　irregular　columns；　they　appeared　suddenly　out　of　the　ground；　with　no　shrubs　or　bushes　leading　up　to　them；　and　no　underbrush　cluttering　the　greensward　on　which　they　stood。　They　were　sparse　at　first。　As　far　back　as　he　could　see；　they　did　not　grow　thickly　enough　。to　close　out　the　sunlight。　Yet　a　shadow　deepened　on　them；　mounting　dimness　spurned　the　sunlight。　In　the　distance；　the　benighted　will　of　the　Forest　became　an　almost　tangible　refusal　of　passage。　He　felt　that　he　was　peering　into　a　chasm。　The　idea　that　any　bargain　could　be　made　with　such　a　place　seemed　to　be　madness；　vanity　woven　of　dream　stuff。　For　a　long　time；　he　only　stood　before　the　Deep　and　stared；　with　a　groan　of　cold　dread　on　his　soul。
　But　Troy　showed　no　hesitation。　When　Quaan　told　him　where　he　was；　he　swung　Mehryl　around　and　began　issuing　orders。　〃All　right；　Hiltmark；〃　he　barked；　〃let's　get　ready　for　it。　Food　for　everyone。　Finish　off　the　supplies；　but　make　it　fast。　After　that；　move　the　warriors　back　beyond　bowshot；　and　form　an　arc　around　Lord　Mhoram。　Make　it　as　wide　as　possible；　but　keep　it　thick…I　don't　want　Fleshharrower　to　break　through。　Lord　Callindrill；　I　think　you　should　fight　with　the　Warward。　And　Quaan…I'll　speak　to　the　warriors　while　they're　eating。　I'll　explain　it　all。〃
　〃Very　well；　Warmark。〃　Quaan　sounded　distant；　withdrawn　into　the　recessed　stronghold　of　his　courage；　and　the　lines　of　his　face　were　taut　with　resolution。　He　returned　Troy's　blind　salute；　then　turned　and　gave　his　own　orders　to　Amorine。　Together；　they　went　to　make　the　Warward's　final　preparations。
　Troy　pulled　Mehryl　around　again。　He　tried　to　face　Mhoram；　but　missed　by　several　feet。　〃Maybe　you'd　better　get　started；〃　he　said。　〃You　haven't　got　much　time。〃
　〃I　will　wait　until　you　have　spoken　to　the　Warward。〃　Sadly；　Mhoram　saw　Troy　grimace　with　vexation　at　the
　discovery　that　he　had　misjudged　the　Lord's　position。　〃I　need　strength。　I　must　seek　it　awhile。〃
　Troy　nodded　brusquely；　and　turned　away　as　if　he　meant　to　watch　the　Warward's　preparations。
　Together；　they　waited　for　Quaan's　signal。　Lord　Callindrill　remained　with　them　long　enough　to　say；　〃Mhoram；　the　High　Lord　had　no　doubt　of　your　fitness　for　the　burden　of　these　times。　She　is　no　ordinary　judge　of　persons。　My　brother；　your　faith　will　suffice。〃　His　voice　was　gentle；　but　it　implicitly　expressed　his　belief　that　his　own　faith　did　not　suffice。　When　he　walked　away　from　the　Deep　to　take　his　stand　with　the　warriors；　he　left　Mhoram　wrestling　with　insistent　tears。
　A　short　time　later；　Quaan　reported　that　the　Warward　was　ready　to　hear　Troy。　The　Warmark　asked　Quaan　to　guide　him　to　a　place　from　which　he　could　speak；　and　they　trotted　away　together。　Lord　Mhoram　walked　after　them。　He　wished　to　hear　the　Warmark's　speech。
　Troy　stopped　within　the　wide…seated　arc　of　warriors。　He　did　not　need　to　ask　for　silence。　Except　for　the　noises　of　eating；　the　warriors　were　still；　too　exhausted　to　talk。　They　had　marched　and　ached　in　blank　silence　for　the　last　three　days；　and　now　they　chewed　their　food　with　a　kind　of　aghast　lifelessness；　ate　as　if　pelled　by　an　old　habit　unassoiled　by　any　remaining　endurance；　desire。　Moving　their　jaws；　staring　out　of　moistureless　eyes；　they　looked　like　dusty　skeletons；　bare；　dry　bones　animated　by　some　obsession　not　their　own。
　Mhoram　could　not　hold　back　his　tears。　They　ran　down　his　jaw　and　spattered　like　warm　pain　on　his　hands　where　he　held　his　staff。
　Yet　he　was　glad　that　Troy　could　not　see　what　his　plans　had　done　to　the　Warward。
　Warmark　Hile　Troy　faced　the　warriors　squarely；　held　up　his　head　as　if　he　were　offering　his　burns　for　inspection。　Sitting　on　Mehryl's　back；　he　was　stiff　with　discipline…a　rigid　refusal　of　his　own　abjection。　As　he　began　to　speak；　his　voice　was　hoarse　with　conflicting　impulses；　but　he　grew　steadier　as　he　continued。
　〃Warriors！〃　he　said　abruptly。　〃We　are　here。　For
　victory　or　defeat；　this　is　the　end。　Today　the　oute　of　this　war　will　be　decided。
　〃Our　position　is　desperate…but　you　know　that。　Fleshharrower　is　only　a　league　away　by　now。　We're　caught　between　his　army　and　Garroting　Deep。　I　want　you　to　know　that　this　is　not　an　accident。　We　didn't　panic　and　run　here　out　of　fear。　We　didn't　e　here　because　Fleshharrower　forced　us。　You　aren't　victims。　We　came　here　on　my　order。　I　made　the　decision。　When　I　was　on　Kevin's　Watch；　I　saw　how　big　Fleshharrower's　army　is。　It's　so　big　that　we　wouldn't　have　had　a　chance　in　Doom's　Retreat。　So　I　made　the　decision。　I　brought　us　here。
　〃I　believe　we're　going　to　win　today。　We　are　going　to　cause　the　destruction　of　that　horde…I　believe　it。　I　brought　you　here　because　I　believe　it。　Now　let　me　tell　you　how　we're　going　to　do　it。〃
　He　paused　for　a　moment；　and　became　even　stiffer；　more　erect；　as　he　braced　himself　for　what　he　had　to　say。　Then　he　went　on；　〃We　are　going　to　fight　that　army　here　for　one　reason。　Lord　Mhoram　needs　time。　He's　going　to　make　this　plan　of　mine　work…and　we　have　to　keep　him　safe　until　he's　ready。
　〃When　he's　ready〃…Troy　seemed　to　clench　himself…〃we're　going　to　run　like　hell　into　Garroting　Deep。〃
　If　he　expected　an　outcry；　he　was　surprised；　the　warriors　were　too　weak　to　protest。　But　a　rustle　of　anguish　passed　among　them；　and　Mhoram　could　see　horror　on　many　faces。
　Troy　went　on　promptly；　〃I　know　how　bad　that　sounds。　No　one　has　ever　survived　the　Deep…no　one　has　ever　returned。　I　know　all　that。　But　Foul　is　hard　to　beat。　Our　only　chance　is　something　that　seems　impossible。　I　believe　we　won't　be　killed。
　〃While　we　fight；　Lord　Mhoram　is　going　to　summon　Caerroil　Wildwood；　the　Forestal。　And　Caerroil　Wildwood　is　going　to　help　us。　He's　going　to　give　us　free　passage　through　Garroting　Deep。　He's　going　to　defeat　Fleshharrower's　army。
　〃I　believe　this。　I　want　you　to　believe　it。　It　will　work。　The　Forestal　has　no　reason　to　hate　us…you　know
　that。　And　he　has　every　reason　to　hate　Fleshharrower。　That　Giant　is　a　Raver。　But　the　only　way　Caerroil　Wildwood　can　get　at　Fleshharrower　is　to　give　us　free　passage。　If　we　run　into　Garroting　Deep；　and　Fleshharrower　sees　that　we　aren't　harmed…then　he'll　follow　us。　He　hates　us　and　he　hates　the　Deep　too　much　to　pass　up　a　chance　like　this。　It　will　work。　The　only　problem　is　to　summon　the　Forestal。　And　that　is　up　to　Lord　Mhoram。〃
　He　paused　again；　weighing　his　words　before　he　said；　〃Many　of　you　have　known　Lord　Mhoram　longer　than　I　have。　You　know　what　kind　of　man　he　is。　He'll　succeed。　You　know　that。
　〃Until　he　succeeds；　the　only　thing　we　have　to　do　is　fight…keep　him　alive　while　he　works。　That's　all。　I　know　how　tough　it's　going　to　be　for　you。　I…I　hear　how　tired　you　are。　But　you　are　warriors。　You　will　find　the　strength。　I　believe　it。　Whatever　happens；　I'll　be　proud　to　fight　with　you。　And　I　won't　be　afraid　to　lead　you　into　Garroting　Deep。　You　are　the　true　preservers　of　the　Land。〃
　He　stopped；　waiting　for　some　kind　of　answer。
　The　warriors　gave　no　cheers　or　shouts　or　cries；　the　extravagant　grip　of　their　exhaustion　kept　them　silent。　But　together　they　heaved　themselves　to　their　feet。　Twelve　thousand　men　and　women　stood　to　salute　the　Warmark。
　He　seemed　to　hear　their　movement　and　understand　it。　He　saluted　them　once；　rigidly。　Then　he　turned　his　proud　Ranyhyn；　and　went　trotting　back　toward　where　he　had　left　Lord　Mhoram。
　He　caught　Mhoram　by　surprise；　and　the　Lord　failed　to　intercept　him。　He　moved　as　if　he　were　held　erect　by　the　stiffness　of　extreme　need；　his　voice　rocked　as　he　said　to　the　empty　air　where　Mhoram　had　been；　〃I　hope　you　understand　what'll　happen　if　you　fail。　We　won't　have　any　choice。　We'll　still　have　to　go　into　the　Deep。　And　pray　the　Forestal　doesn't　kill　us　until　Fleshharrower　follows。　We'll　all　die　that　way；　but　maybe　the　Raver　will；　too。〃
　Mhoram　hastened　toward　Troy。　But　Terrel　was　closer　to　the　Warmark；　and　he　spoke　before　Mhoram
　could　stop　him。　〃That　we　will　not　permit；〃　he　said　dispassionately。　〃It　is　suicide。　We　do　not　speak　of　the　Warward。　But　we　are　the　Bloodguard。　We　will　not　permit　the　Lords　to　enact　their　own　death。　We　failed　to　prevent　High　Lord　Kevin's　self…destruction。　We　will　not　fail　again。〃
　〃I　hear　you；〃　Mhoram　replied　sharply。　〃But　that　moment　has　not　yet　e。　First　I　must　work。〃　Turning　to　Troy；　he　said；　〃My　friend；　will　you　remain　with　me　while　I　make　this　attempt。　I　need…I　have　need　of　support。〃
　Troy　seemed　to　totter　on　Mehryl's　back。　But　he　caught　hold　of　the　Ranyhyn's　mane；　steadied　himself。　〃Just　tell　me　if　there's　anything　I　can　do。〃　He　reached　out　his　hand；　and　when　Mhoram　clasped　it；　he　slipped　down　from　Mehryl's　back。
　Mhoram　gripped　his　hand　for　a　moment；　then　released　him。　The　Lord　looked　over　at　the　Warward；　saw　that　it　was　preparing　to　meet　Fleshharrower's　charge。　He　turned　his　attention　to　the　Deep。　Dread　constricted　his　heart。　He　was　afraid　that　Caerroil　Wildwood　would　simply　strike　him　where　he　stood　for　the　affront　of　his　call…strike　all　the　army。　But　he　was　still　his　own　master。　He　stepped　forward；　raised　his　staff　high　over　his　head；　and　began　the　ritual　appeal　to　the　woods。
　〃Hail；　Garroting　Deep！　Forest　of　the　One　Forest！　Enemy　of　our　enemies！　Garroting　Deep；　hail！　We　are　the　Lords…foes　to　your　enemies；　and　learners　of　the　lillianrill　lore。　We　must　pass　through！
　〃Harken；　Caerroil　Wildwood！　We　hate　the　ax　and　flame　which　hurt　you。　Your　enemies　are　our　enemies。　Never　have　we　brought　edge　of　ax　or　flame　of　fire　to　touch　you…nor　ever　shall。　Forestal；　harken！　Let　us　pass！〃
　There　was　no　answer。　His　voice　fell　echoless　on　the　trees　and　grass；　nothing　moved　or　replied　in　the　dark　depths。　He　strained　his　senses　to　listen　and　look　for　any　sign；　but　none　came。　When　he　was　sure　of　the　silence；　he　repeated　the　ritual。　Again　there　was　no　reply。　After　a　third　appeal；　the　silent　gloom　of　the　Deep
　seemed　to　increase；　to　grow　more　profound　and　ominous；　as　he　beseeched　it。
　Through　the　Forest's　unresponsiveness；　he　heard　the　first　gleeful　shout　of　Fleshharrower's　army　as　it　caught　sight　of　the　Warward。　The　hungry　cry　multiplied　his　dread；　his　knuckles　whitened　as　he　resisted　it。　Planting　his　staff　firmly　on　the　grass；　he　tried　another　approach。
　While　the　sun