tw.togreenangeltower2-第12章

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　　　　　　　It　is　Aspitis；　she　thought。　He　did　this　to　me。　Before　him；　I　was　as　pure　as　anyone　could　want　to　he。
　　　　　　　But　was　that　really　true？　He　had　not　forced　himself　upon　her。　She　had　let　him　do　what　he　wished…in　some　ways　she　had　weled　it。　In　the　end；　Aspitis　had　proved　to　be　a　monster；　but　the　way　in　which　he　came　to　her　bed　was　no　different　than　that　in　which　most　men　came　to　their　sweethearts。　He　had　not　savaged　her。　If　what　they　had　done　was　wrong　and　sinful；　she　bore　equal　blame。　
　　　　　　　And　what；　then；　of　Simon？　She　had　very　mixed　feelings。　He　was　not　a　boy　any　more　but　a　man；　and　a　part　of　her　feared　the　man　he　had　bee；　as　it　would　fear　any　man。　But；　she　thought；　there　was　also　something　about　him　that　had　remained　strangely　innocent。　In　his　earnest　attempts　to　do　right；　in　the　poorly…hidden　hurt　that　he　showed　when　she　was　short　with　him；　he　was　still　almost　childlike。　This　made　her　feel　even　worse；　that　in　his　transparent　regard　for　her　he　had　no　clue　as　to　what　she　was　truly　like。　It　was　precisely　when　he　was　kindest　to　her；　when　he　most　admired　and　plimented　her；　that　she　felt　most　angry　with　him。　It　seemed　he　was　being　willfully　blind。
　　　　　　　It　was　a　dreadful　way　to　feel。　Luckily；　Simon　seemed　to　understand　that　his　sincere　affection　was　somehow　painful　to　her；　so　he　fell　back　on　the　jesting；　mocking　friendship　with　which　she　was　more　fortable。　When　she　could　be　around　him　without　thinking　about　herself；　she　found　him　good　pany。
　　　　　　　Despite　growing　up　in　the　courts　of　her　grandfather　and　father；　Miriamele　had　found　little　opportunity　to　be　with　boys。　King　John's　knights　were　mostly　dead　or　long　since　retired　to　their　estates　scattered　about　Erkynland　and　elsewhere；　and　in　her　grandfather's　later　years　the　king's　court　had　bee　empty　of　almost　any　but　those　who　had　to　live　near　the　king　for　the　sake　of　their　day…to…day　livelihoods。　Later；　when　her　mother　had　died；　her　father　had　frowned　on　her　spending　time　even　with　the　few　boys　and　girls　of　her　age。　He　had　not　filled　the　void　with　his　own　presence；　but　had　instead　mewed　her　up　with　unpleasant　old　men　and　women　who　lectured　her　about　the　rituals　and　responsibilities　of　her　position　and　found　fault　with　everything　she　did。　By　the　time　her　father　had　bee　king；　Miriamele's　solitary　childhood　was　over。
　　　　　　　Leieth；　her　handmaiden；　had　been　almost　her　only　young　panion。　The　little　girl　had　idolized　Miriamele；　hanging　on　the　princess'　every　word。　In　turn；　Leieth　had　told　long　stories　about　growing　up　with　brothers　and　sisters…she　was　the　youngest　of　a　large　baronial　family…while　her　mistress　listened　in　fascination；　trying　not　to　be　jealous　of　the　family　she　had　never　had。
　　　　　　　That　was　why　it　had　been　so　difficult　to　see　Leieth　again　upon　reaching　Sesuad'ra。　The　lively　little　girl　she　remembered　had　vanished。　Before　they　had　fled　the　castle　together；　Leieth　had　been　quiet　sometimes；　and　many　things　frightened　her；　but　it　was　as　though　some　pletely　different　creature　now　lived　behind　the　little　girl's　eyes。　Miriamele　had　tried　to　remember　if　there　had　ever　been　any　sign　of　the　sort　of　things　that　Geloe　had　discovered　in　the　child；　but　could　think　of　little；　except　that　Leieth　had　been　prone　to　vivid；　intricate；　and　sometimes　frightening　dreams。　Some　of　them　had　seemed　so　detailed　…　and　unusual　in　Leieth's　retelling　that　Miriamele　had　been　more　than　half　certain　the　little　girl　had　invented　them。
　　　　　　　When　Miriamele's　father　had　ascended　to　his　own　father's　throne；　she　found　herself　both　surrounded　by　people　and　yet　terribly　lonely。　Everyone　at　the　Hayholt　had　seemed　obsessed　with　the　empty　ritual　of　power；　something　Miriamele　had　lived　with　for　so　long　that　it　held　no　interest　for　her。　It　was　like　watching　a　confusing　game　played　by　bad…tempered　children。　Even　the　few　young　men　who　paid　court　to　her…or　rather　to　her　father；　for　most　of　them　had　been　interested　in　little　more　than　the　riches　and　power　that　would　fall　to　the　one　who　received　her　marriage…pledge…had　seemed　to　her　like　some　other　type　of　animal　than　she；　boring　old　men　in　the　bodies　of　youths；　sullen　boys　masquerading　as　adults。
　　　　　　　The　only　ones　in　all　of　Meremund　or　the　Hayholt　who　seemed　to　enjoy　life　for　what　it　was　rather　than　what　gain　could　be　coaxed　from　it　were　the　servants。　In　the　Hayholt　especially；　with　its　army　of　maids　and　grooms　and　scullions；　it　was　as　though　an　entirely　different　race　of　people　lived　side　by　side　with　her　own　bleak　peers。　Once；　in　a　moment　of　terrible　sadness；　she　had　suddenly　seen　the　great　castle　as　a　kind　of　inverted　lich…yard；　with　the　creaking　dead　walking　around　on　top　while　the　living　sang　and　laughed　below。
Thus　Simon　and　a　few　others　had　first　e　to　her　attention…boys　who　seemed　to　want　nothing　much　more　than　to　be　boys。　Unlike　the　children　of　her　father's　nobles；　they　were　in　no　hurry　to　take　on　the　clacking；　droning；　mannered　speech　of　their　elders。　She　watched　them　dawdling　through　their　chores；　laughing　behind　their　hands　at　each　others'　foolish　pranks；　or　playing　hoodman　blind　on　the　mons　grass；　and　she　ached　to　be　like　them。　Their　lives　seemed　so　simple。　Even　when　a　more　mature　wisdom　taught　her　that　the　lives　of　the　serving…folk　were　hard　and　wearIsorne；　she　still　dreamed　sometimes　that　she　could　put　off　her　royalty　as　easily　as　a　cloak　and　bee　one　of　their　number。　Hard　work　had　never　frightened　her；　but　she　was　terrified　of　solitude。

　　　　　　　〃No；〃　Simon　said　firmly。　〃You　should　never　let　me　get　this　close　to　you。〃
　　　　　　　He　moved　his　foot　slightly　and　twisted　the　hilt　of　his　sword　so　that　its　cloth…wrapped　blade　pushed　hers　away。　Suddenly；　he　was　pressing　against　her。　His　smell；　pounded　of　sweat　and　leather　jerkin　and　the　sodden　fragments　of　a　thousand　leaves；　was　very　strong。　He　was　so　tall！　She　forgot　that　sometimes。　The　sudden　impact　of　his　presence　made　it　hard　for　Miriamele　to　think　clearly。
　　　　　　　〃You've　left　yourself　open　now；〃　he　said。　〃If　I　used　my　dagger；　you　wouldn't　have　a　chance。　Remember；　you'll　almost　always　be　fighting　someone　with　more　reach。〃
　　　　　　　Instead　of　trying　to　bring　her　sword　back　where　it　would　do　some　good；　she　let　it　drop；　then　put　both　hands　against　Simon's　chest　and　pushed。　He　fell　back；　stumbling；　before　he　regained　his　balance。
　　　　　　　〃Leave　me　alone。〃　Miriamele　turned　and　walked　a　few　steps　away；　then　stooped　to　pick　up　a　few　branches　for　the　fire　so　her　shaking　hands　would　have　something　to　do。
　　　　　　　〃What's　wrong？〃　Simon　asked；　taken　aback。　〃Did　I　hurt　you？〃
　　　　　　　〃No；　you　didn't　hurt　me。〃　She　took　her　armful　of　wood　and　dumped　it　into　the　circle　they　had　cleared　on　the　forest　floor。　〃I'm　just　done　with　that　game　for　a　while。〃
　　　　　　　Simon　shook　his　head；　then　sat　to　undo　the　rags　wound　about　his　sword。
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　They　had　made　camp　early　today；　the　sun　still　high　above　the　treetops。　Miriamele　had　decided　that　tomorrow　they　would　follow　the　little　streamlet　that　had　long　been　their　panion　down　to　the　River　Road；　the　course　of　the　stream　had　been　bending　in　that　direction　for　most　of　this　day's　journey。　The　River　Road　wound　beside　the　Ymstrecca；　past　Stanshire　and　on　to　Hasu　Vale。　It　would　be　best；　she　had　reasoned；　for　them　to　take　to　the　road　at　midnight　and　still　have　some　walking　time　before　dawn；　rather　than　spend　all　of　this　night　in　the　forest　and　then　wait　through　daylight　again　so　they　could　travel　the　road　in　darkness。
　　　　　　　This　had　been　her　first　opportunity　to　use　her　sword　in　several　days；　except　for　the　inglorious　purpose　of　clearing　brush。　It　had　even　been　she　who　had　suggested　an　hour　of　practice　before　they　ate　their　evening　meal…which　was　one　of　the　reasons　her　abrupt　change　of　heart　obviously　puzzled　Simon。　Miriamele　felt　torn　between　a　desire　to　tell　him　it　wasn't　his　fault；　and　an　obscure　feeling　that　somehow　it　was　his　fault…his　fault　for　being　male；　his　fault　for　liking　her；　his　fault　for　ing　with　her　when　she　would　have　been　happier　being　miserably　alone。
〃Don't　mind　me；　Simon；〃　she　said　at　last；　and　felt　weak　for　doing　so。　〃I'm　just　tired。〃
　　　　　　　Mollified；　he　finished　his　careful　rewinding　of　the　cloth；　then　dropped　the　ball　of　dusty　fabric　into　his　saddlebag　before　ing　to　join　her　beside　the　unlit　fire。　〃I　just　wanted　you　to　be　careful。　I　told　you　that　you　lean　too　far。〃
　　　　　　　〃I　know；　Simon。　You　did　tell　me。〃　
　　　　　　　〃You　can't　let　someone　bigger　than　you　get　that　close。〃
　　　　　　　Miriamele　found　herself　wishing　silently　that　he　would　stop　talking　about　it。　〃I　know；　Simon。　I'm　just　tired。〃
　　　　　　　He　seemed　to　sense　that　he　had　annoyed　her　again。　〃But　you're　good；　Miriamele。　You're　strong。〃
　　　　　　　She　nodded；　absorbed　now　with　the　flint。　A　spark　fell　into　the　curls　of　tinder；　but　failed　to　produce　a　flame。　Miriamele　wrinkled　her　nose　and　tried　again。
　　　　　　　〃Do　you　want　me　to　try？〃
　　　　　　　〃No；　I　don't　want　you　to　try。〃　She　struck　again　without　result。　Her　arms　were　getting　weary；　Simon　looked　at　the　wood　shavings；　then　up　at　Miriamele's　face；　then　quickly　back　down　again。　〃Remember　Binabik's　yellow　powder？　He　could　start　a　fire　in　a　rainstorm　with　that。　I　saw　him　make　one　catch　when　we　were　on　Sikkihoq；　and　there　was　snow；　and　the　wind　was　blowing。。。。〃
　　　　　　　〃Here。〃　Miriamele　stood；　letting　the　flint　and　the　steel　bar　tumble　to　the　dirt　beside　the　tinder。　〃You　do　it。〃　She　walked　to　her　horse　and　began　hunting　through　the　saddlebags。
　　　　　　　Simon　seemed　about　to　say　something；　but　instead　applied　himself　to　the　task　of　fire…lighting。　He　had　no　better　luck　than　Miriamele　for　a　long　time。　At　last；　when　she　had　returned　with　a　kerchief　full　of　the　things　she　had　found；　he　finally　caught　a　small　spark　and　provoked　it　into　flame。　As　she　stood　over　him　she　saw　that　his　hair　was　getting　quite　long；　hanging　down　onto　his　shoulders　in　reddish　curls。
　　　　　　　He　looked　up　at　her　shyly。　His　eyes　were　full　of　concern　for　her…　〃What's　wrong？〃
　　　　　　　She　ignored　his　question。　〃Your　hair　wants　cutting。　I'll　do　it　after　we　eat。〃　She　undid　the　kerchief。　〃These　are　our　last　two　apples。　They're　getting　a　little　old；　in　any　case…I　don't　know　where　Fengbald　found　them。〃　She　had　been　told　about　the　source　of　much　of　Josua's　confiscated　foodstuffs。　There　was　an　obscure　pleasure　in　eating　what　had　once　been　destined　for　that　strutting　braggart。　〃There's　still　some　dried　mutton；　too；　but　we're　almost　through　with　it。　We　may　have　to　try　out　the　bow　sometime　soon。〃
　　　　　　　Simon　opened　his　mouth；　then　shut　it。　He　took　a　breath。　〃We'll　wrap　the　apples　in　leaves　and　bury　them　in　the　coals。　Shem　Horsegroom　used　to　do　that　all　the　time。　Then　it　doesn't　matter　if　they're　a　little　old。〃
　　　　　　　〃If　you　say　so；〃　Miriamele　replied。

　　　　　　　Miriamele　leaned　back　and　licked　her　fingers。　They　still　smarted　a　little　from　the　hot　apple　skin；　but　it　had　been　worth　it。　〃Shem　Horsegroom；〃　she　said；　〃is　a　man　of　astonishing　wisdom。〃
　　　　　　　Simon　smiled。　His　beard　was　sticky　with　juice。　〃It　was　good。　But　now　we　don't　have　any　more。〃
〃I　couldn't　eat　any　more　tonight；　anyway。　And　tomorrow　we'll　be　on　the　road　to　Stanshire。　I'm　sure　we　can　find　something　almost　as　good　along　the　way。〃
　　　　　　　Simon　shrugged。　〃I　wonder　where　old　Shem　is；〃　he　asked　after　a　few　moments　had　passed。　The　fire　popped　and　spat　as　the　leaves　in　which　the　apples　had　cooked　began　to　blacken。　〃And　Ruben。　And　Rachel。　Do　you　think　t