fs.thethirdbookofswords-第39部分

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ee　into　the　inward　nature　of　the　gods；　you　and　the　others　there。　And　since　then　I　have　known。。。　if　I　could　not　kill　you　the　last　time　we　fought；　and　I　cannot　kill　you　now；　it　is　because　there　is　in　you　too　much　of　humanity。〃
　〃Bah。　That　I　cannot　believe。〃　Mars　waved　his　spears。
　Stalking　his　enemy；　bleeding；　Draffut　said　it　again。　〃You　did　not　create　them。〃
　〃Hah。　That　I　can　believe。　What　sort　of　god　would　be　bothered　to　do　that？〃
　〃They　created　you。〃
　Mars　snorted　with　divine　contempt。　〃How　could　such　vermin　ever　create　anything？〃
　〃Through　their　dreams。　Their　dreams　are　very　powerful。〃
　The　two　titans　closed　with　each　other　again；　and　fought；　and　again　both　of　them　were　wounded。　And　again　they　both　were　weakened。
　The　only　human　observer　left　to　watch　them　now　was　the　man　named　Birch。　He　would　certainly　have　crept　away　by　now；　too；　with　his　wife　and　children；　if　he　had　been　able　to　move。　But　he　could　not　move。　And　by　now　he　was　no　longer　even　thinking　particularly　of　his　own　fate。　He　watched　the　fight　until　he　fainted；　and　when　he　recovered　his　senses　he　watched　again；　for　the　fight　was　still　in　progress。　When　his　thirst　became　overpowering；　he　made　a　great　effort　and　managed　to　turn　and　twist　himself　enough　to　get　a　drink　from　the　muddied；　bloodied　water　of　the　small　stream。　Then　he　lay　back　and　kept　his　mind　off　his　own　pain　and　injury　by　watching　the　fight　some　more。
　The　sun　set　on　the　struggle。　It　went　on；　with　pauses　…　Birch　supposed　that　even　gods　in　this　kind　of　agony　must　rest　…　through　the　night。　The　dark　was　filled　with　titanic　thrashings　and　groanings；　and　splashing　in　the　river　where　it　gurgled　gorily　and　patiently　over　and　around　the　new　dam　that　had　been　made　out　of　human　disaster。
　At　least；　Birch　told　himself　in　his　more　lucid　moments；　he　was　not　going　to　have　to　worry　about　predatory　animals　ing　and　trying　to　make　a　meal　of　him　as　he　lay　wounded。　What　ordinary　beast　would　dare　approach　this　scene？
　When　dawn　came；　Birch　found　himself　still　alive；　somewhat　to　his　own　surprise。　In　the　new　daylight　he　beheld　the　ground；　over　the　entire　area　around　the　ford；　littered　with　broken　spearshafts　and　spearheads；　and　with　monstrous　dead　or　lethargic　serpents　that　had　once　been　spears；　all　relics　of　the　fight　that　still　went　on。
　Or　did　it？　This　latest　interval　of　silence　seemed　to　be　lasting　for　a　longer　time　than　usual。
　There　was　a　great；　startling；　earth…quivering　crash；　somewhere　nearby；　just　out　of　Birch's　sight；　behind　some　overturned　and　smashed…up　wagons　that　screened　a　large　part　of　his　field　of　vision。　The　ground　shook　with　the　renewed　fight；　which　once　more　seemed　to　terminate　in　a　final　splash。　In　a　moment　the　watching　human　was　able　to　see　and　feel　the　waves　indicating　that　the　two　batants；　still　locked　together；　had　plunged　into　the　partially　dammed　pool　of　the　river。
　Now　for　a　time　Birch　could　no　longer　hear　them　fighting；　except　for　occasional　splashes　that　gradually　decreased　in　violence。　But　now　he　could　hear　the　two　gods　breathing。　Ought　gods　to　have　to　breathe？　Birch　wondered　groggily。　Maybe　they　only　did　it　when　they　chose；　like　eating　and　drinking。　Maybe　they　only　did　it　when　they　needed　extra　strength。
　Time　passed　in　near　silence。　Then　as　the　newly　risen　sun　crept　higher　in　the　sky；　a　shadow　fell　across　Birch　where　he　lay。　The　man　opened　his　eyes；　to　behold　the　figure　of　yet　another　god。　Thank　Ardneh；　this　one　had　not　yet　noticed　the　surviving　human　either。
　Birch　knew　at　once；　by　the　leather…like　smith's　apron　worn　by　the　newer；　and　by　the　twisted　leg；　that　this　was　Vulcan。　The　lame　god　was　wearing　at　his　side　two　great；　blackhilted　Swords；　looking　like　mere　daggers　against　the　gray　bulk　of　his　body。　He　squatted　on　his　haunches；　looking　down　into　the　pool　where　the　two　fighters　had　gone　out　of　Birch's　field　of　vision。　Now　there　was　a　renewed　stirring　in　the　pool；　at　last。　A　muttering；　a　splash。　A　great　grin　spread　across　the　face　of　the　Smith　as　he　stood　up　and　leisurely　approached　the　bat　a　little　more　closely。　Before　he　sat　down　again；　on　a　rock；　he　kicked　a　broken　cart　out　of　his　way。　This　incidentally　cleared　the　field　of　view　for　the　injured　man；　of　whose　existence　none　of　the　three　giants　had　yet　taken　the　least　notice。
　〃Hail；　oh　mighty　Wargod！〃　The　salutation　came　from　Vulcan　in　tones　of　gigantic　mockery。　〃The　world　awaits　your　conquering　presence。　Have　you　not　dallied　here　long　enough？　What　are　you　doing　down　there；　exactly　…　bathing　your　pet　dog　in　the　mud？〃
　Birch　could　see　now　how　red　the　mud　and　water　were　around　them　both。　Of　the　two　batants；　Draffut　could　no　longer　fight；　could　hardly　move。　The　God　of　War　was　little　better　off　than　his　bedraggled　foe。　But　now；　slowly；　terribly；　with　great　gasping　efforts；　Mars　dragged　himself　free　of　his　opponent's　biting；　crushing　grip；　and　stood　erect；　ankle…deep　in　mud。
　When　the　Wargod　tried　to　speak　his　voice　was　half…inaudible；　failing　altogether　on　some　words。　It　seemed　that　he　could　barely　lift　the　arm　that　he　stretched　out　to　Vulcan。　〃A　spear　…　a　weapon　…　I　have　no　more　spears。　Lend　me　your　Sword；　Smith。　One　of　them；　I　see　that　you　have　two。　This　business　must　be　finished。〃
　Vulcan　sighed；　producing　a　sound　like　that　of　wind　rushing　through　a　smoldering　forge。　He　remained　where　he　was；　still　some　twenty　meters　or　so　distant　from　the　other　two。　〃Give　you　a　weapon；　hey？　Well；　I　suppose　I　must；　since　you　appear　to　be　the　victor　in　this　shabby　business　after　all。　How　tiresome。〃
　Mars；　though　tottering　on　his　feet；　managed　to　draw　himself　a　little　more　fully　erect。
　〃How　mannered　you　suddenly　grow；　Blacksmith。　How　fond　you　suddenly　are　of　trying　to　appear　clever。　Why　should　that　be？　But　never　mind。　Put　steel　here　in　my　hand；　and　I'll　finish　this　dirty　job。〃
　〃I　grant　you；〃　said　Vulcan；　〃there　is　a　need　that　certain　things　be　finished。〃　And　the　Smith　stood　up　from　where　he　had　been　sitting；　and　his　ornaments　of　dragons'　scales　tinkled　as　he　chose　and　drew　one　of　his　Swords。
　〃'For　thy　heart'；〃　he　quoted　softly；　clasping　and　hiding　the　black　hilt　delicately　in　his　great；　gray；　hardened　blaksmith's　hand。　He　held　the　Sword　up　straight；　looking　at　it　almost　lovingly。　''For　thy　heart；　who　hast　wronged　me。'〃
　〃Wait；〃　said　Mars；　staring　at　him　with　a　suddenly　new　expression。　〃What　Sword　is。。？〃
　His　answer　did　not　e　in　words。　Vulcan　was　moving　into　a　strange　revolving　dance；　his　whole　body　turning　ponderously；　great　sandaled　feet　stamping　rock　and　mud　along　the　wagon　trail；　flattening　earth　that　was　already　trodden　and　beaten　and　bloody　from　the　fight；　squashing　the　already　dying　serpents　that　had　once　been　spears。　The　Sword　in　the　Smith's　extended　arm　was　glowing　now；　and　it　was　howling　like　the　bull…roarer　of　some　primitive　magician。
　Mars；　half…dead　or　not；　was　suddenly　galvanized。　He　sprang　into　motion；　fleeing；　running　away。　Running　as　only　a　god　can　run；　Mars　went　ducking　and　twisting　his　way　through　the　remnants　of　the　hillside　grove。　He　dodged　among　great　splintered　treetrunks；　and　splintering　further　those　trees　that　got　in　his　way。
　Birch　saw　Vulcan　throw　the　Sword；　or　rather　let　it　go。　After　the　Smith　released　it；　the　power　that　propelled　it　came　only　from　within　itself。　The　speed　of　Mars'　flight　was　great；　but　the　Sword　was　only　a　white　streak　through　the　air。　Virtually　instantaneously　it　followed　the　curving　track　of　the　War…god's　flight。
　At　the　last　moment；　Mars　turned　to　face　doom　bravely；　and　somehow　he　was　able　to　summon　yet　one　more　spear　into　his　hand。　But　even　his　magic　spear　of　war　availed　him　nothing　against　the　Sword　of　Vengeance。　The　white　streak　ended　abruptly；　with　the　sound　of　a　sharp　impact。
　Even　with　Farslayer　embedded　in　his　heart；　Mars　raised　his　spear；　and　took　one　stumbling　step　toward　the　god　who　had　destroyed　him。　But　then　he　could　only　cry　a　curse；　and　fall。　He　was　dead　before　he　struck　the　earth；　and　he　demolished　one　more　live　tree　in　his　falling。　That　last　tree　deflected　the　Wargod's　toppling　body；　so　that　he　turned　before　his　landing　shook　the　earth；　and　ended　sprawling　on　his　back。　Only　the　black　hilt　and　a　handsbreadth　of　Farslayer's　bright　blade　protruded　from　the　armored　breastplate　on　his　chest。
　Chapter　14
　At　the　largest　land　gate　in　the　walls　of　Tashigang；　which　was　the　Hermes　Gate　giving　onto　the　great　highway　called　the　High　Road；　one　thin　stream　of　worried　citizens　was　trying　to　get　out　of　the　city　when　Mark　and　Denis　arrived；　while　another　group；　this　one　of　country　refugees；　worked　and　pleaded　to　get　in。　There　was　obviously　no　general　agreement　on　the　safest　place　to　be　during　the　war　that　everyone　thought　was　ing。　The　Watch　on　duty　at　the　Hermes　Gate　were　implacably　forbidding　the　removal　of　foodstuffs；　or　anything　that　could　be　construed　as　military　or　medical　supplies；　while　at　the　same　time　denying　entrance　to　many　of　the　outsiders。　To　gain　entrance　to　the　city　it　was　necessary　to　show　pressing　business　…　other　than　that　of　one's　own　survival；　which　did　not　necessarily　concern　the　Watch　…　or　to　bring　in　some　substantial　material　contribution　to　the　city's　ability　to　withstand　a　siege。　Denis；　on　identifying　himself　as　an　agent　of　the　House　of　Courtenay；　was　admitted　with　no　further　argument。　And　Mark；　along　with　his　escort；　was　passed　as　a　r