fs.thethirdbookofswords-第31部分

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　But　Mark's　mother　lingered。　There　was　a　suppressed　urgency　in　her　manner。　〃Walk　me　home。　I　stay　nearby；　here　in　town；　while　Jord　is　gone。　It's　only　a　little　way。〃
　〃Of　course。〃
　Once　they　were　outside；　Mala　clung　to　her　son's　arm　as　if　she　needed　his　support　to　walk；　though　she　was　not　yet　forty　and　all　evening　had　seemed　full　of　energy；　rejoicing　in　their　reunion。　But　now　her　mood　became　suddenly　tinged　with　sadness。
　〃You've　just　e　back　to　us；〃　she　said。　〃And　before　we　can　begin　to　know　you；　you　must　go　off　again。〃
　〃I　must；　Mother。〃
　〃I　know；　I　know。〃　Mark　had　yet　to　encounter　anyone　at　all；　in　either　town　or　castle；　who　did　not　know　of　his　relationship　with　Kristin；　and　the　potential　problems　that　it　raised。
　Mother　and　son　walked；　slowly。　He　was　very　tired。　He　thought　that　his　mother　seemed　now　to　be　on　the　brink　of　telling　him　something。　She　kept　asking　him；　〃You'll　e　back　to　Tasavalta；　though？〃
　〃I'll　be　here　a　couple　of　days　yet。　I'll　see　you　again；　and　Marian；　before　I　go。〃
　〃Yes；　of　course。　Unless　the　plan　for　your　departure　is　changed。　In　these　matters　of　secrecy；　plans　can　change　very　quickly；　I've　learned　that。　But　after　this　mission；　you'll　e　back？〃
　〃To　report　on　my　mission；　I　suppose；　yes；　I'll　have　to。　And　be　sent　off　again。　I　can't　stay　here。　The　Princess's　moner　lover；　and　a　foreigner　to　boot。　If　my　father　had　been　the　Grand　Duke　Basil；　or　Prince　Something…or…other；　things　would　probably　be　different。〃
　They　were　at　her　door　now。　It　was　a　modest　place；　but　looked　fortable；　probably　the　government　here　provided　quarters　for　its　secret　agents'　families。
　Mala；　her　voice　quivering　as　if　she　were　doing　something　difficult；　said：　〃Mark；　e　in；　there's　something　I　must　tell　you；　while　I　have　the　chance。　The　gods　know　if　I'll　ever　have　the　chance　again。〃
　It　was　about　an　hour　later　when　he　emerged　from　the　humble　apartment　where　his　parents　lived。　He　stood　in　the　narrow　street　for　a　little　while；　looking　up　at　the　stars。　They　looked　the　same　as　always。　Beyond　tiredness　now；　Mark　remained　standing　there　in　the　street　for　what　felt　to　him　like　a　long　time。　And　then　he　went　to　his　modest　quarters　in　the　palace；　knowing　that　he　had　to　get　some　rest。
　Two　mornings　later；　well　fed；　well　dressed；　and　reasonably　rested；　armed　with　the　Sword　Coinspinner　at　his　side。。。　and　Woundhealer　left　safely　in　Karel's　care。。。　Mark　left　the　Palace。　His　departure　was　quiet；　without　fanfare　official　or　otherwise。　Mounted　on　a　fine　riding　beast　and　at　the　head　of　a　small　escort　similarly　well　equipped；　he　was　on　his　way　to　seek　the　Emperor。
　Mark　looked　back　only　once。　He　saw　a　figure　that　he　was　sure　was　Kristin；　watching　his　departure　from　a　distant　upper　window。　But　he　made　no　sign　that　he　had　seen　her。
　Chapter　10
　Over　the　long　decades　since　his　human　eyes　had　gone　in　sacrifice；　and　demonic　senses　had　been　engrafted　magically　upon　his　own；　the　Dark　King　had　e　to　be　unsure　sometimes　whether　he　was　awake　or　dreaming。　He　saw　the　Mindsword　the　same　way　in　either　case；　as　a　pillar　of　billowing　flame　long　as　a　spear；　with　his　own　face　glowing　amid　the　perfect　whiteness　of　the　flame。　He　could　tell　that　the　eyes　on　his　own　face　of　flame　were　open　and　seeing。　Whether　he　was　dreaming　or　awake；　that　fiery　stare　for　some　reason　always　reminded　him　that　he　had　never　seen　with　his　own　natural　eyes　any　of　those　who　were　now　his　closest　associates　and　chief　subordinates。　The　demon　showed　him　his　human　wizards　and　warlocks　as　strange；　hunched；　wizened　figures；　and　his　generals　as　little　more　than　animated　suits　of　armor；　but　all　of　them　appeared　with　exaggerated　caricature…faces；　that　amplified　all　of　their　subtleties　of　expression；　so　that　the　Dark　King　might　better　try　to　read　them。　Whereas　demons；　in　the　demonic　vision；　appeared　with　noble；　lusty；　youthful　bodies；　usually　naked　and　always　intensely　human；　except　in　their　very　perfection；　their　large　size；　and　in　the　bird…like　wings　they　often　sprouted。　The　Dark　King　knew　of　course　that　they　had　no　real　bodies；　or　wings　either；　and　he　did　not　believe　at　all　in　their　faces　as　they　were　presented　to　him；　shining　with　kindliness　and　honor。
　Now　that　the　King　was　in　the　field　with　his　army；　on　the　march　almost　daily；　the　demons　sometimes　appeared　to　him　on　a　smaller　scale；　fluttering　in　the　air　inside　his　tent　like　monkbirds。　Vilkata　dwelt　now　in　a　tent　much　smaller　than　his　grand　pavilion；　because　speed　was　of　importance。　And　he　thought　that　speed　was　vital　now；　because　of　the　reports　that　had　recently　e　in；　first　announcing　and　then　confirming　that　Sir　Andrew's　troops　were　at　last　out　of　the　swamp。　The　army　in　orange　and　black　was　moving　in　the　direction　of　Sir　Andrew's　old　lands；　as　if　the　Kind　Knight　for　some　reason　thought　the　time　might　be　ripe　to　reclaim　them。
　This　news　of　course　made　Vilkata　wonder　what　his　erstwhile　ally；　the　Silver　Queen；　might　now　be　planning。　As　far　as　he　knew　she　still　controlled　those　lands。
　The　report　of　Sir　Andrew's　movement　had　also　confirmed　Vilkata's　recent　decision　that　his　own　strategy　had　best　be　altered。　Now；　he　determined　to　destroy　Sir　Andrew　first；　before　turning　his　attention　to　his　other　surviving　enemies　and　rivals。　Vilkata　had　arrived　at　this　decision　to　change　his　plans　largely　out　of　the　feeling　that　his　enemies　must　now　know　too　much　about　them　as　they　stood。
　First　of　all；　the　Dark　King　was　now　convinced　that　he　had　entertained　a　spurious　Burslem；　some　damned　spy；　at　that　memorable　council　meeting　at　the　main　camp；　the　one　where　the　King　had　first　displayed　his　Mindsword；　and　which　the　gods　had　so　gratifyingly　attended　later。　The　real　wizard　Burslem；　Vilkata's　head　of　Security　and　Defensive　Intelligence；　had　at　last　returned；　and　had　been　positively　identified；　this　time；　by　careful　questioning。　How　the　spy　had　managed　to　resist　the　Mindsword's　influence；　as　he　or　she　evidently　had；　was　something　else　for　the　King　to　worry　and　wonder　about。　The　Sword　Sightblinder　was　so　far　the　only　really　convincing　explanation　to　be　suggested；　and　the　presence　of　that　in　one　of　his　enemies'　hands　was　far　from　reassuring。
　Today；　as　Vilkata　moved　about　his　small　field　tent　in　his　routine　of　morning　preparations；　the　small　demon　that　served　him　as　sensory　aid　presented　him　as　usual　with　a　vision　of　the　tent's　interior。　Certain　things；　in　accordance　with　his　own　long…standing　orders；　were　edited　out　of　the　scene　as　he　perceived　it。　For　example；　the　body　of　last　night's　concubine；　curled　now　at　the　foot　of　the。bed　in　sleep　or　a　good　imitation　thereof；　was　most　clearly　visible　by　its　shapely　torso；　the　breasts　and　buttocks　particularly　emphasized。　The　irrelevances　of　hands　and　feet；　and　especially　the　face　…　who　would　care　about　trying　to　read　the　innermost　thoughts　of　such　a　woman？　…　blurred　away　into　a　semi…transparent　obscurity。　In　the　case　of　a　bed…partner；　better　a　blur　than　a　face；　no　matter　how　well…formed　and　schooled　in　smiling。　Even　such　smiles　could　sometimes　be　disquieting。
　And　the　Dark　King　had　recently　ordered　that；　when　the　next　battle　came；　the　dead　should　be　edited　away　too；　out　of　his　perception。　He　had　observed　frequently；　on　other　battlefields　and　in　other　areas　where　much　killing　was　required；　that　the　dead　were　a　notable　distraction。　Obstacles　when　removed　ought　to　disappear；　resources　once　used　up　were　only　waste　materials。　The　dead　tended　to　stink；　and　were　in　general　esthetically　unpleasing。　He　had　finally　decided　to　order　them　filtered　out。　Someone　else　could　count　them　up　when　necessary。
　He　had　decided；　too；　that　many　of　the　wounded；　most　of　them　in　fact；　should　also　be　expunged　from　his　vision。　Those　remaining　should　be　only　the　ones　still　able　to　play　an　active　part　in　the　day's　events；　enough　to　present　some　possible　danger　to　the　Dark　King's　person；　or　his　cause。　This　might　not　always　be　easy　for　a　busy　demon　to　judge；　in　doubtful　cases　the　filtering　familiar　was　to　let　the　wounded　person　remain　visible；　even　if　esthetically　offensive。
　This　morning；　when　Vilkata　left　his　small　tent　and　mounted　his　war…steed；　amid　the　usual　thunderous　applause　of　his　troops　and　officers；　his　army　appeared　before　him　in　his　demon…sight　as　neat　ranks　of　polished　weapons；　the　human　form　attached　to　each　blade　or　bow　not　much　more　than　a　mere　uniformed　outline。
　A　look　at　the　best　maps　he　had　available　had　persuaded　him　that　it　ought　to　be　possible　to　intercept　Sir　Andrew's　force　if　he　moved　swiftly；　staring　at　first　daylight。　The　morning's　march　was　hard　and　long。　Scouts；　some　of　them　human　beings　mounted　or　afoot；　some　of　them　winged　beasts；　kept　ing　in　with　reports　of　what　appeared　to　be　the　rear　guard　of　Sir　Andrew's　force　not　far　ahead。　They　estimated　that　the　enemy　army　was　even　a　little　smaller　than　earlier　intelligence　estimates　had　made　it　out　to　be。
　But　Vilkata；　still　prudent　despite　the　overwhelming　advantage　that　he　thought　he　held；　ordered　his　infantry　forward　as　against　a　foe　possibly　almost　their　equal　in　numbers。　He　also　ordered　a　swift　cavalry　movement；　a　reconnaissance　in　force；　to　move　around　Sir　Andrew's　army；　to　try　to　engage　the　enemy　front　and　if　possible　prevent　successful　flight。　Meanwhile　he　maneuvered　the　main　body　of　his　own　troops　into　battle　array。　Stationing　himself　just　behind　the　front