rh.theassassinsapprentice-第52章

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o　see　where　I　was。　If　Galen　truly　wanted　to　contact　me；　location　should　be　no　barrier。　He　had　assured　us　innumerable　times　that　it　was　the　person　he　reached　for；　not　the　place。　He　could　find　me　as　well　on　the　beach　as　he　could　on　the　hilltop。
　　　　　　　By　late　afternoon；　I　stood　atop　rocky　cliffs；　looking　out　to　sea。　Antler　Island；　and　a　haze　that　would　be　Scrim　beyond　it。　I　was　north　of　Forge。　The　coast　road　home　would　go　right　through　the　ruins　of　that　town。　It　was　not　a　forting　thought。
　　　　　　　So　now　what？
　　　　　　　By　evening；　I　was　back　on　my　hilltop；　scrunched　down　between　two　of　the　boulders。　I　had　decided　it　was　as　good　a　place　to　wait　as　any。　Despite　my　doubts；　I　would　stay　where　I　had　been　left　until　the　contact　time　was　up。　I　ate　bread　and　salt　fish　and　drank　sparingly　of　my　water。　My　change　of　clothes　included　an　extra　cloak。　I　wrapped　myself　in　this　and　sternly　rejected　all　thoughts　of　making　a　fire。　However　small；　it　would　have　been　a　beacon　to　anyone　on　the　dirt　road　that　passed　the　hill。
　　　　　　　I　don't　think　there　is　anything　more　cruelly　tedious　than　unremitting　nervousness。　I　tried　to　meditate；　to　open　myself　up　to　Galen's　Skill；　all　the　while　shivering　with　cold　and　refusing　to　admit　that　I　was　scared。　The　child　in　me　kept　imagining　dark　ragged　figures　creeping　soundlessly　up　the　hillside　around　me；　Forged　folk　who　would　beat　and　kill　me　for　the　cloak　I　wore　and　the　food　in　my　bag。　I　had　cut　myself　a　stick　as　I　made　my　way　back　to　my　hillside；　and　I　gripped　it　in　both　hands；　but　it　seemed　a　poor　weapon。　Sometimes　I　dozed　despite　my　fears；　but　my　dreams　were　always　of　Galen　gloating　over　my　failure　as　Forged　ones　closed　in　on　me；　and　I　always　woke　with　a　start；　to　peer　wildly　about　to　see　if　my　nightmares　were　true。
　　　　　　　I　watched　the　sunrise　through　the　trees　and　then　dozed　fitfully　through　morning。　Afternoon　brought　me　a　weary　sort　of　peace。　I　amused　myself　by　questing　out　toward　the　wildlife　on　the　hillside。　Mice　and　songbirds　were　little　more　than　bright　sparks　of　hunger　in　my　mind；　and　rabbits　little　more；　but　a　fox　was　full　of　lust　to　find　a　mate　and　farther　off　a　buck　battered　the　velvet　off　his　antlers　as　purposefully　as　any　smith　at　his　anvil。　Evening　was　very　long。　It　was　surprising；　just　how　hard　it　was　for　me　to　accept；　as　night　fell；　that　I　had　felt　nothing；　not　the　slightest　pressure　of　the　Skill。　Either　he　hadn't　called　or　I　hadn't　heard　him。　I　ate　bread　and　fish　in　the　dark　and　told　myself　it　didn't　matter。　For　a　time　I　tried　to　bolster　myself　with　anger；　but　my　despair　was　too　clammy　and　dark　a　thing　for　anger's　flames　to　overe。　I　felt　sure　Galen　had　cheated　me；　but　I　would　never　be　able　to　prove　it；　not　even　to　myself。　I　would　always　have　to　wonder　if　his　contempt　for　me　had　been　justified。　In　full　darkness；　I　settled　my　back　against　a　rock；　my　stick　across　my　knees；　and　resolved　to　sleep。
　　　　　　　My　dreams　were　muddled　and　sour。　Regal　stood　over　me；　and　I　was　a　child　sleeping　in　straw　again。　He　laughed　and　held　a　knife。　Verity　shrugged；　and　smiled　apologetically　at　me。　Chade　turned　aside　from　me；　disappointed。　Molly　smiled　at　jade；　past　me；　forgetting　I　was　there。　Burrich　held　me　by　the　shirtfront　and　shook　me；　telling　me　to　behave　like　a　man；　not　a　beast。　But　I　lay　down　on　straw　and　an　old　shirt；　chewing　at　a　bone。　The　meat　was　very　good；　and　I　could　think　of　nothing　else。
　　　　　　　I　was　very　fortable　until　someone　opened　a　stable　door　and　left　it　ajar。　A　nasty　little　wind　came　creeping　across　the　stable　floor　to　chill　me；　and　I　looked　up　with　a　growl。　I　smelled　Burrich　and　ale。　Burrich　came　slowly　through　the　dark；　with　a　muttered；　〃It's　all　right；　Smithy；〃　as　he　passed　me。　I　put　my　head　down　as　he　began　to　climb　his　stairs。
　　　　　　　Suddenly　there　was　a　shout　and　men　falling　down　the　stairs。　They　struggled　as　they　fell。　I　leaped　to　my　feet；　snarling　and　barking。　They　landed　half　atop　me。　A　boot　kicked　at　me；　and　I　seized　the　leg　above　it　in　my　teeth　and　clamped　my　jaws。　I　caught　more　boot　and　pant　than　flesh；　but　he　hissed　in　anger　and　pain；　and　struck　at　me。
　　　　　　　A　knife　went　into　my　side。
　　　　　　　I　set　my　teeth　harder　and　held　on；　snarling　around　my　mouthful。　Other　dogs　had　awakened　and　were　barking；　the　horses　were　stamping　in　their　stalls。　Boy；　boy；　I　called　for　help。　I　felt　him　with　me；　but　he　didn't　e。　The　intruder　kicked　me；　but　I　wouldn't　let　go。　Burrich　lay　in　the　straw　and　I　smelled　his　blood。　He　did　not　move。　I　snarled　around　the　mouthful。　I　heard　old　Vixen　flinging　herself　against　the　door　upstairs；　trying　vainly　to　get　to　her　master。　Again　and　then　again　the　knife　plunged　into　me。　I　cried　out　to　my　boy　a　last　time；　and　then　I　could　no　longer　hold　on。　I　was　flung　off　the　kicking　leg；　to　strike　the　side　of　a　stall。　I　was　drowning；　blood　in　my　mouth　and　nostrils。　Running　feet。　Pain　in　the　dark。　I　hitched　closer　to　Burrich。　I　pushed　my　nose　under　his　hand。　He　did　not　move。　Voices　and　light　ing；　ing；　ing　。。。
　　　　　　　I　awoke　on　a　dark　hillside；　gripping　my　stick　so　tightly　my　hands　were　numb。　Not　for　a　moment　did　I　think　it　a　dream。　I　couldn't　stop　feeling　the　knife　between　my　ribs　and　tasting　the　blood　in　my　mouth。　Like　the　refrain　of　a　ghastly　song；　the　memories　came　again　and　again；　the　draft　of　cold　air；　the　knife；　the　boot；　the　taste　of　my　enemy's　blood　in　my　mouth；　and　the　taste　of　my　own。　I　struggled　to　make　sense　of　what　Smithy　had　seen。　Someone　had　been　at　the　top　of　Burrich's　stairs；　waiting　for　him。　Someone　with　a　knife。　And　Burrich　had　fallen；　and　Smithy　had　smelled　blood　。。。。
　　　　　　　I　stood　and　gathered　my　things。　Thin　and　faint　was　Smithy's　warm　little　presence　in　my　mind。　Weak；　but　there。　I　quested　carefully；　and　then　stopped　when　I　felt　how　much　it　cost　him　to　acknowledge　me。　Still。　Be　still。　I'm　ing。　I　was　cold　and　my　knees　shook　beneath　me；　but　sweat　was　slick　on　my　back。　Not　once　did　I　question　what　I　must　do。　I　strode　down　the　hill　to　the　dirt　road。　It　was　a　little　trade　road；　a　peddlers'　track；　and　I　knew　that　if　I　followed　it；　it　must　intersect　eventually　with　the　coast　road。　I　would　follow　it；　I　would　find　the　coast　road；　I　would　get　myself　home。　And　if　Eda　favored　me；　I　would　be　in　time　to　help　Smithy。　And　Burrich。
　　　　　　　I　strode；　refusing　to　let　myself　run。　A　steady　march　would　carry　me　farther　faster　than　a　mad　sprint　through　the　dark。　The　night　was　clear；　the　trail　straight。　I　considered；　once；　that　I　was　putting　an　end　to　any　chance　of　proving　I　could　Skill。　All　I　had　put　into　it；　time；　effort；　pain；　all　wasted。　But　there　was　no　way　I　could　have　sat　down　and　waited　another　full　day　for　Galen　to　try　to　reach　me。　To　open　my　mind　to　Galen's　possible　Skill　touch；　I　would　have　had　to　clear　it　of　Smithy's　tenuous　thread。　I　would　not。　When　it　was　all　put　in　the　balances；　the　Skill　was　far　outweighed　by　Smithy。　And　Burrich。
　　　　　　　Why　Burrich？　I　wondered。　Who　could　hate　him　enough　to　ambush　him？　And　right　outside　his　own　quarters。　As　clearly　as　if　I　were　reporting　to　Chade；　I　began　to　assemble　my　facts。　Someone　who　knew　him　well　enough　to　know　where　he　lived；　that　ruled　out　some　chance　offense　mitted　in　a　Buckkeep　Town　tavern。　Someone　who　had　brought　a　knife；　that　ruled　out　someone　who　just　wanted　to　give　him　a　beating。　The　knife　had　been　sharp；　and　the　wielder　had　known　how　to　use　it。　I　winced　again　from　the　memory。
　　　　　　　Those　were　the　facts。　Cautiously；　I　began　to　build　assumptions　upon　them。　Someone　who　knew　Burrich's　habits　had　a　serious　grievance　against　him；　serious　enough　to　kill　over。　My　steps　slowed　suddenly。　Why　hadn't　Smithy　been　aware　of　the　man　up　there　waiting？　Why　hadn't　Vixen　been　barking　through　the　door？　Slipping　past　dogs　in　their　own　territory　bespoke　someone　well　practiced　at　stealth。
　　　　　　　Galen。
　　　　　　　No。　I　only　wanted　it　to　be　Galen。　I　refused　to　leap　to　the　conclusion。　Physically；　Galen　was　no　match　for　Burrich　and　he　knew　it。　Not　even　with　a　knife；　in　the　dark；　with　Burrich　half…drunk　and　surprised。　No。　Galen　might　want　to；　but　he　wouldn't　do　it。　Not　himself。
　　　　　　　Would　he　send　another？　I　pondered　it；　and　decided　I　didn't　know。　Think　some　more。　Burrich　was　not　a　patient　man。　Galen　was　the　most　recent　enemy　he'd　made；　but　not　the　only　one。　Over　and　over　I　restacked　my　facts；　trying　to　reach　a　solid　conclusion。　But　there　simply　wasn't　enough　to　build　on。
　　　　　　　Eventually　I　came　to　a　stream　and　drank　sparingly：　Then　I　walked　again。　The　woods　grew　thicker；　and　the　moon　was　mostly　obscured　by　the　trees　lining　the　road。　I　didn't　turn　back。　I　pushed　on；　until　my　trail　flowed　into　the　coast　road　like　a　stream　feeding　a　river。　I　followed　it　south；　and　the　wider　highway　gleamed　like　silver　in　the　moonlight。
　　　　　　　I　walked　and　pondered　the　night　away。　As　the　first　creeping　tendrils　of　dawn　began　to　put　colors　back　into　the　landscape；　I　felt　incredibly　weary；　but　no　less　driven。　My　worry　was　a　burden　I　couldn't　put　down。　I　clutched　at　the　thin　thread　of　warmth　that　told　me　Smithy　was　still　alive；　and　wondered　about　Burrich。　I　had　no　way　of　knowing　how　badly　he'd　been　injured。　Smithy　had　smelled　his　blood；　so　the　knife　had　scored　at　least　once。　And　the　fall　down　the　staircase？　I　tried　to　set　the　worry　aside。　I　had　never　considered　that　Burrich　could　be　injured　in　such　a　way；　let　alone　what　I　would　feel　about　it。　I　could　e　up　with　no　name　for　the　feeling。　just　hollow；　I　thought　to　myself。　Hollow。　And　weary。
　　　　　　　I　ate　a　bit　as　I　walked　and　refilled　my　water　skin　from　a　stream。　Midmorning　clouded　up　and　rained　on　me　for　a　bit；　only　to　clear　as　abruptly　by　early　afternoon。　I　strode　on。　I　had　expected　to　find　some　sort　of　traffic　on　the　coast　road；　but　saw　nothing。　By　late　afternoon；　the　coast　road　had　veered　close　to　the　cliffs。　I　could　look　across　a　small　cove　and　down　onto　what　had　been　Forge。　The　peacefulness　of　it　was　chilling。　No　smoke　rose　from　the　cottages；　no　boats　rode　in　the　harbor。　I　knew　my　road　would　take　me　right　through　it。　I　did　not　relish　the　idea；　but　the　warm　thread　of　Smithy's　life　tugged　me　on。
　　　　　　　I　lifted　my　head　to　the　scuff　of　feet　against　stone。　Only　the　reflexes　of　Hod's　long　training　saved　me。　I　came　about；　staff　at　the　ready；　and　swept　around　me　in　a　defensive　circle　that　cracked　the　jaw　of　the　one　that　was　behind　me。　The　others　fell　back。　Three　others。　All　Forged；　empty　as　stone。　The　one　I　had　struck　was　rolling　and　yelling　on　the　ground。　No　one　paid　him　any　mind　except　me。　I　dealt　him　another　quick　jolt　to　his　back。　He　yelled　louder　and　thrashed　about。　Even　in　that　situation；　my　action　surprised　me。　I　knew　it　was　wise　to　make　sure　a　disabled　enemy　stayed　disabled；　but　I　knew　I　could　never　have　kicked　at　a　howling　dog　as　I　did　at　that　man。　But　fighting　these　Forged　ones　was　like　fighting　ghosts。　I　felt　no　presence　from　any　of　them；　I　had　no　sense　of　the　pain　I'd　dealt　the　injured　man；　no　echoes　of　his　anger　or　fear。　It　was　like　slamming　a　door；　violence　without　a　victim；　as　I　cracked　him　again；　to　be　sure　he　would　not　snatch　at　me　as　I　leaped　over　him　to　a　clear　space　in　the　road。
　　　　　　　I　danced　my　staff　around　me；　keeping　the　others　at　bay。　They　looked　ragged　and　hungry；　but　I　still　felt　they　could　outrun　me　if　I　fled。　I　was　already　tired；　and　they　were　like　starving　wolves。　They'd　pursue　me　until　I　dropped。　One　reached　too　close　and　I　struck　him　a　glancing　blow　to　the　wrist。　He　dropped　a　rusty　fish　knife　and　cl