fs.thethirdbookofswords-第7部分

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strong　fingers　on　the　fancy　carving。　In　a　moment；　the　wood　had　opened　like　a　shell；　revealing　a　velvet…lined　cavity　inside。　Hidden　there；　straight　iron　hilt　within　wooden　crosspiece；　was　a　great　Sword。　The　plain　handle；　of　what　Denis　took　to　be　some　hard　black　wood；　was　marked　in　white　with　a　small　symbol；　the　outline　of　an　open　human　hand。　The　Sword　was　in　a　leather　sheath；　that　left　only　a　finger's…breadth　of　the　blade　visible；　but　that　small　portion　of　metal　caught　the　eye。　It　displayed　a　rich　mottling；　suggesting　centimeters　of　depth　in　the　thin　blade；　beneath　a　surface　gleam　of　perfect　smoothness。　Only　the　Old　World；　or　a　god；　thought　Denis；　could　have　made　a　blade　like　that。。。　and　Denis　had　never　heard　of　any　Old　World　swords。
　〃Behold；〃　the　elder　priest　of　Ardneh　said；　even　as　the　hand　of　the　younger　drew　forth　the　blade　out　of　its　sheath。　〃The　Sword　of　Mercy！〃
　And　still　Denis　needed　another　moment　…　but　no　more　than　that　…　to　understand　fully　what　he　was　being　allowed　to　see。　When　understanding　came；　he　first　caught　his　breath；　and　then　released　it　in　a　long　sigh。　By　now　almost　everyone　in　the　world　had　heard　of　the　Twelve　Swords；　though　there　were　probably　those　who　still　doubted　their　reality；　and　most　had　never　seen　one。　The　Swords　had　been　forged　some　twenty　years　ago；　the　more　reliable　stories　had　it；　created；　all　the　versions　of　the　legend　agreed；　to　serve　some　mysterious　role　in　a　divine　Game　that　the　gods　and　goddesses　who　ruled　the　world　were　determined　to　enjoy　among　themselves。　And　if　this　wonderous　weapon　were　not　one　of　those　twelve　Swords；　thought　Denis。。。　well；　it　was　hard　to　imagine　what　else　it　could　be。　In　his　time　at　the　House　of　Courtenay　he　had　seen　some　elegant　and　valuable　blades；　but　never　before　anything　like　this。　There　were　twelve　of　them；　all　of　the　stories　agreed　on　that　much。　Most　of　them　had　two　names；　though　some　had　more　names　than　two；　and　a　few　had　only　one。　They　were　called　Wayfinder；　and　Farslayer；　and　the　Tyrant's　Blade；　there　were　the　Mindsword；　and　Townsaver；　and　Stonecutter；　called　also　the　Sword　of　Siege。　There　were　Doomgiver；　Sightblinder；　Dragonslicer；　Coinspinner　and　Shieldbreaker　and　the　Sword　of　Love；　that　last　thrice…named；　also　as　Woundhealer　and　the　Sword　of　Mercy。
　And；　if　any　of　the　tales　had　truth　in　them　at　all；　each　Sword　had　its　own　unique　power；　capable　of　overwhelming　all　lesser　magics；　bestowing　on　its　owner　some　chance　to　rule　the　world；　or　at　least　to　speak　on　equal　terms　with　those　who　died。。。
　The　older　priest　had　carefully　accepted　the　naked　Sword　from　the　hands　of　the　younger；　and　now　Denis　observed　with　a　start　that　the　old　man　was　now　approaching　him；　Denis；　with　the　heavy　weapon　held　out　before　him。　Half…raised　as　if　in　some　clumsy　system　of　attack；　it　wobbled　slightly　in　the　elder's　hands。
　Even　in　the　mild　lamplight　the　steel　gleamed　breathtakingly。　And　Denis　thought　that　a　sound　was　ing　from　it　now；　a　sound　like　that　of　human　breath。
　Whether　he　was　manded　to　hold　out　his　wounded　arm；　or　did　so　automatically；　Denis　could　not　afterwards　remember。　The　room　was　very　quiet；　except　for　the　faint　slow　rhythmic　hiss　that　the　Sword　made；　as　if　it　breathed。　The　old　man's　thin　arms；　that　looked　as　if　they　might　never　have　held　a　weapon　before　in　all　his　life；　reached　out。　The　blade；　looking　keener　than　any　razor　that　Denis　had　ever　seen；　steadied　itself　suddenly。　It　moved　now　as　if　under　some　finer　control　than　the　visibly　tremulous　grip　of　the　old　priest。
　And　now　the　broad　point　had　somehow；　without　even　nicking　flesh；　inserted　itself　snugly　underneath　the　tight　bandage　binding　Denis's　forearm。　The　bloodstained　white　cloth；　cut　neatly；　fell　away；　and　the　Sword's　point　touched　the　wound　directly。　Denis；　expecting　pain；　felt　instead　an　intense　moment　of　something　else；　a　sensation　unique　and　indescribable。　And　then　the　Sword　withdrew。
　Looking　down　at　his　arm；　Denis　saw　dried　blood；　but　no　fresh　flow。　The　dried；　brownish　stuff　brushed　away　readily　enough　when　he　rubbed　at　it　with　his　fingers。　Where　the　dried　blood　had　been；　he　saw　now　a　small；　fresh；　pink　scar。　The　wound　looked　healthy；　easily　a　week　or　ten　days　healed。
　It　was　at　this　moment；　for　some　reason；　that　Denis　suddenly　remembered　something　about　the　man　who；　the　legends　said；　had　been　forced　to　assist　Vulcan　in　the　forging　of　the　Swords。　The　stories　said　of　that　human　smith　that　as　soon　as　his　work　was　done　he　had　been　deprived　of　his　right　arm　by　the　god。
　〃It　is　shameful；　of　course；〃　the　elder　priest　was　saying；　〃that　we　must　keep　it　hidden　so；　and　sneak　through　the　night　with　it　like　criminals　with　their　plunder。　But　if　we　did　not　take　precautions；　then　those　who　would　put　Woundhealer　to　an　evil　use　would　soon　have　it　in　their　possession。〃
　〃We　will　do　our　best；〃　the　lady　of　the　house　assured　him；　〃to　keep　it　from　them。〃
　〃But　at　the　moment；〃　said　the　master；　〃we　have　a　problem　even　more　immediate　than　that。　Sirs；　if　you　will；　bring　the　Sword　this　way　with　you；　and　quickly。　A　man　lies　dying。〃
　Denis　led　the　way；　and　quickly　opened　the　door　to　his　own　room。　The　master　stepped　in　past　him；　and　indicated　the　still　figure　on　the　bed。　〃He　arrived　here　not　an　hour　ago；　much　as　you　see　him。　And　I　fear　he　is　the　courier　who　was　to　have　carried　on　what　you　have　brought。〃
　The　two　priests　moved　quickly　to　stand　beside　the　bed。　The　young　one　murmured　a　prayer　to　Draffut；　God　of　Healing。　The　first　quick　touch　of　the　Sword　was　directly　on　the　wound　still　bleeding　in　the　side　of　the　unconscious　man。　Denis；　despite　his　own　experience　of　only　moments　ago；　could　not　keep　from　wincing　involuntarily。　It　was　hard　to　imagine　that　that　keen；　hard　point　would　not　draw　more　blood；　do　more　harm　to　human　flesh　already　injured。　But　the　slow　red　ooze　from　the　wound；　instead　of　increasing；　dried　up　immediately。　As　the　Sword　moved　away；　the　packing　that　Denis　had　put　into　the　wound　pulled　out　with　it。　The　cloth　hung　there；　stuck　by　dried　blood　to　the　skin。
　Feeling　a　sense　of　unreality；　Denis　passed　his　hand　over　his　eyes。
　Now　the　Sword；　still　in　the　hands　of　Ardneh's　elder　servant；　moved　down　to　touch　the　wound　on　the　exposed　knee。　This　time　when　the　bare　metal　touched　him；　the　man　on　the　bed　drew　in　his　breath　sharply；　as　if　with　some　extreme　and　exquisite　sensation；　a　moment　later　he　let　out　a　long　sigh；　eloquent　of　relief。　But　his　eyes　did　not　open。
　And　now　the　tip　of　the　Sword　was　being　made　to　pass　back　and　forth　over　his　whole　body；　not　quite　touching　him。　It　paused　again；　briefly；　right　above　the　heart。　Denis　could　see　how　the　arms　of　the　old　priest　continued　to　tremble；　as　if　it　strained　them　to　hold　this　heavy　weapon　…　not；　Denis　supposed；　that　this　Sword　ought　to　be　called　a　weapon。　He　wondered　what　would　happen　if　you　swung　it　against　an　enemy。
　The　tip　of　the　blade　paused　just　once　more；　when　it　reached　the　scarred　stump　of　the　long…lost　arm。　There　it　touched；　and　there；　to　Denis's　fresh　surprise；　it　did　draw　blood　at　last；　a　thready　red　trickle　from　the　scarred　flesh。　Again　a　gasp　came　from　the　unconscious　man。
　The　bleeding　stopped　of　itself；　almost　as　quickly　as　it　had　started。　The　old　priest　now　slid　the　blade　back　into　its　sheath；　and　handed　it　to　his　assistant；　who　enclosed　it　once　again　within　the　staff　of　wood。
　The　elder's　face　was　pale　now；　as　if　the　healing　might　have　taken　something　out　of　him。　But　he　did　not　pause　to　rest；　bending　instead　to　examine　the　man　he　had　been　treating。　Then　he　pulled　a　blanket　up　to　the　patient's　chin　and　straightened。
　〃He　will　recover；〃　the　elder　priest　announced；　〃but　he　must　rest　for　many　days；　he　was　nearly　dead　before　the　Sword　of　Mercy　reached　him。　Here　you　can　provide　him　with　the　good　food　he　needs；　even　so　his　recovery　will　take　some　time。〃
　Master　Courtenay　told　the　two　priests　of　Ardneh　softly；　〃We　thank　you　in　his　name　…　whatever　that　may　be。　Now；　will　you　have　some　food？　And　then　we'll　find　you　a　place　to　sleep。〃
　The　elder　declined　gravely。　〃Thank　you；　but　we　cannot　stay；　even　for　food。〃　He　shook　his　head。　〃If　this　man　was　to　be　the　next　courier；　as　you　say；　I　fear　you　will　have　to　find　a　replacement　for　him。〃
　〃We　will　find　a　way；〃　the　lady　said。
　〃Good；〃　said　the　elder；　and　paused；　frowning。　〃There　is　one　thing　more　that　I　must　tell　you　before　we　go。〃　He　paused　again；　a　longer　time；　as　if　what　he　had　to　say　now　required　some　gathering　of　forces。　〃The　Mindsword　has　fallen　into　the　hands　of　the　Dark　King。〃
　An　exhausted　silence　fell　over　the　people　in　the　workshop。　Denis　was　trying　desperately　to　recall　what　the　various　songs　and　stories　had　to　say　about　the　weapon　called　the　Mindsword。
　There　was；　of　course；　the　verse　that　everyone　had　heard：
　The　Mindsword　spun　in　the　dawn's　gray　light
　And　men　and　demons　knelt　down　before
　The　Mindsword　flashed　in　the　midday　bright
　Gods　joined　the　dance；　and　the　march　to　war
　It　spun　in　the　twilight　dim　as　well
　And　gods　and　men　marched　off　to…
　〃Gods　and　demons！〃　Master　Courtenay　swore　loudly。　His　face　was　grave　and　gray；　with　a　look　that　Denis　had　never　seen　on　it　before。
　Moments　later；　having　said　their　last　farewells；　the　two　white…robed　men　were　gone。
　Denis　closed　and　barred　the　door　behind　them；　and　turned　round。　The　master　of　the　house　was　standing　i