uleg.thefarthestshore-第24部分

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ot　been　holding　it　when　Arren　first　saw　it；　it　had　been　standing　out　from　the　hollow　of　his　shoulder　where　the　point　had　gone　in。　He　was　scanning　the　water　between　them　and　the　white　beach；　where　some　tiny　figures　hopped　and　wavered　in　the　heat…glare。　At　last　he　said；　〃Go　on。〃
　　〃Sopli…〃
　　〃He　never　came　up。〃
　　〃Is　he　drowned？〃　Arren　asked；　unbelieving。
　　Sparrowhawk　nodded。
　　Arren　rowed　on　until　the　beach　was　only　a　white　line　beneath　the　forests　and　the　great　green　peaks。　Sparrowhawk　sat　by　the　tiller；　holding　the　wad　of　cloth　to　his　shoulder　but　paying　no　heed　to　it。
　　〃Did　a　spear　hit　him？〃
　　〃He　jumped。〃
　　〃But　he…　he　couldn't　swim。　He　was　afraid　of　the　water！〃
　　Aye。　Mortally　afraid。　He　wanted。。。　He　wanted　to　e　to　land。
　　〃Why　did　they　attack　us？　Who　are　they？〃
　　〃They　must　have　thought　us　enemies。　Will　you。。。　give　me　a　hand　with　this　a　moment？〃　Arren　saw　then　that　the　cloth　he　held　pressed　against　his　shoulder　was　soaked　and　vivid。
　　The　spear　had　struck　between　the　shoulder…joint　and　collarbone；　tearing　one　of　the　great　veins；　so　that　it　bled　heavily。　Under　Sparrowhawk's　direction；　Arren　tore　strips　from　a　linen　shirt　and　made　shift　to　bandage　the　wound。　Sparrowhawk　asked　him　for　the　spear；　and　when　Arren　laid　it　on　his　knees　he　put　his　right　hand　over　the　blade；　long　and　narrow　like　a　willow　leaf；　of　crudely　hammered　bronze；　he　made　as　if　to　speak；　but　after　a　minute　he　shook　his　head。　〃I　have　no　strength　for　spells；〃　he　said。　〃Later。　It　will　be　all　right。　Can　you　get　us　out　of　this　bay；　Arren？〃
　　Silently　the　boy　returned　to　the　oars。　He　bent　his　back　to　the　work；　and　soon；　for　there　was　strength　in　his　smooth；　lithe　frame；　he　brought　Lookfar　out　of　the　crescent　bay　into　open　water。　The　long　noon　calm　of　the　Reach　lay　on　the　sea。　The　sail　hung　slack。　The　sun　glared　through　a　veil　of　haze；　and　the　green　peaks　seemed　to　shake　and　throb　in　the　great　heat。　Sparrowhawk　had　stretched　out　in　the　bottom　of　the　boat；　his　head　propped　against　the　thwart　by　the　tiller；　he　lay　still；　lips　and　eyelids　half…parted。　Arren　did　not　like　to　look　at　his　face；　but　stared　over　the　boat's　stern。　Heat…haze　wavered　above　the　water；　as　if　veils　of　cobweb　were　spun　out　over　the　sky。　His　arms　trembled　with　fatigue；　but　he　rowed　on。
　　〃Where　are　you　taking　us？〃　Sparrowhawk　asked　hoarsely；　sitting　up　a　little。　Turning；　Arren　saw　the　crescent　bay　curving　its　green　arms　about　the　boat　once　more；　the　white　line　of　the　beach　ahead；　and　the　mountains　gathered　in　the　air　above。　He　had　turned　the　boat　around　without　knowing　it。
　　〃I　can't　row　any　more；〃　he　said；　stowing　the　oars　and　going　to　crouch　in　the　prow。　He　kept　thinking　Sopli　was　behind　him　in　the　boat；　by　the　mast。　They　had　been　many　days　together；　and　his　death　had　been　too　sudden；　too　reasonless　to　be　understood。　Nothing　was　to　be　understood。
　　The　boat　hung　swaying　on　the　water；　the　sail　slack　on　the　spar。　The　tide；　beginning　to　enter　the　bay；　turned　Lookfar　slowly　broadside　to　the　current　and　pushed　her　by　little　nudges　in　and　in；　toward　the　distant　white　line　of　the　beach。
　　〃Lookfar；〃　the　mage　said　caressingly；　and　a　word　or　two　in　the　Old　Speech；　and　softly　the　boat　rocked　and　nosed　outward　and　slipped　over　the　blazing　sea　away　from　the　arms　of　the　bay。
　　But　as　slowly　and　softly；　in　less　than　an　hour；　she　ceased　to　make　way；　and　again　the　sail　hung　slack。　Arren　looked　back　in　the　boat　and　saw　his　panion　lying　as　before；　but　his　head　had　dropped　back　a　little；　and　his　eyes　were　closed。
　　All　this　while　Arren　had　felt　a　heavy；　sickly　horror；　which　grew　on　him　and　held　him　from　action　as　if　winding　his　body　and　mind　in　fine　threads。　No　courage　rose　up　in　him　to　fight　against　the　fear；　only　a　kind　of　dull　resentment　against　his　lot。
　　He　should　not　let　the　boat　drift　here　near　the　rocky　shores　of　a　land　whose　people　attacked　strangers；　this　was　clear　to　his　mind；　but　it　did　not　mean　much。　What　was　he　to　do　instead？　Row　the　boat　back　to　Roke？　He　was　lost；　utterly　lost　beyond　hope；　in　the　vastness　of　the　Reach。　He　could　never　bring　the　boat　back　through　those　weeks　of　voyage　to　any　friendly　land。　Only　with　the　mage's　guidance　could　be　do　it；　and　Sparrowhawk　was　hurt　and　helpless；　as　suddenly　and　meaninglessly　as　Sopli　was　dead。　His　face　was　changed；　lax…featured　and　yellowish；　he　might　be　dying。　Arren　thought　that　he　should　go　move　him　under　the　awning　to　keep　the　sunlight　off　him；　and　give　him　water；　men　who　had　lost　blood　needed　to　drink。　But　they　had　been　short　of　water　for　days；　the　barrel　was　almost　empty。　What　did　it　matter？　There　was　no　good　in　anything；　no　use。　The　luck　had　run　out。
　　Hours　went　by；　the　sun　beat　down；　and　the　greyish　heat　wrapped　Arren　round。　He　sat　unmoving。
　　A　breath　of　cool　passed　across　his　forehead。　He　looked　up。　It　was　evening：　the　sun　was　down；　the　west　dull　red。　Lookfar　moved　slowly　under　a　mild　breeze　from　the　east；　skirting　the　steep；　wooded　shores　of　Obehol。
　　Arren　went　back　in　the　boat　and　looked　after　his　panion；　arranging　him　a　pallet　under　the　awning　and　giving　him　water　to　drink。　He　did　these　things　hurriedly；　keeping　his　eyes　from　the　bandage；　which　was　in　need　of　changing；　for　the　wound　had　not　wholly　ceased　to　bleed。　Sparrowhawk；　in　the　languor　of　weakness；　did　not　speak；　even　as　he　drank　eagerly；　his　eyes　closed　and　he　slipped　into　sleep　again；　that　being　the　greater　thirst。　He　lay　silent；　and　when　in　the　darkness　the　breeze　died；　no　magewind　replaced　it；　and　again　the　boat　rocked　idly　on　the　smooth；　heaving　water。　But　now　the　mountains　that　loomed　to　the　right　were　black　against　a　sky　gorgeous　with　stars；　and　for　a　long　time　Arren　gazed　at　them。　Their　outlines　seemed　familiar　to　him；　as　if　he　had　seen　them　before；　as　if　he　had　known　them　all　his　life。
　　When　he　lay　down　to　sleep　he　faced　southward；　and　there；　well　up　in　the　sky　above　the　blank　sea；　burned　the　star　Gobardon。　Beneath　it　were　the　two　forming　a　triangle　with　it；　and　beneath　these；　three　had　risen　in　a　straight　line；　forming　a　greater　triangle。　Then；　slipping　free　of　the　liquid　plains　of　black　and　silver；　two　more　followed　as　the　night　wore　on；　they　were　yellow　like　Gobardon；　though　fainter；　slanting　from　right　to　left　from　the　right　base　of　the　triangle。　So　there　were　eight　of　the　nine　stars　that　were　supposed　to　make　the　figure　of　a　man；　or　the　Hardic　rune　Agnen。　To　Arren's　eyes　there　was　no　man　in　the　pattern；　unless；　as　starfigures　are；　he　was　strangely　distorted；　but　the　rune　was　plain；　with　hooked　arm　and　cross…stroke；　all　but　the　foot；　the　last　stroke　to　plete　it；　the　star　that　had　not　yet　risen。
　　Watching　for　it；　Arren　slept。
　　When　he　woke　in　the　dawn；　Lookfar　had　drifted　farther　from　Obehol。　A　mist　hid　the　shores　and　all　but　the　peaks　of　the　mountains；　and　thinned　out　into　a　haze　above　the　violet　waters　of　the　south；　dimming　the　last　stars。
　　He　looked　at　his　panion。　Sparrowhawk　breathed　unevenly；　as　when　pain　moves　under　the　surface　of　sleep　not　quite　breaking　it。　His　face　was　lined　and　old　in　the　cold；　shadowless　light。　Arren　looking　at　him　saw　a　man　with　no　power　left　in　him；　no　wizardry；　no　strength；　not　even　youth；　nothing。　He　had　not　saved　Sopli；　nor　turned　away　the　spear　from　himself。　He　had　brought　them　into　peril　and　had　not　saved　them。　Now　Sopli　was　dead；　and　he　dying；　and　Arren　would　die。　Through　this　man's　fault；　and　in　vain；　for　nothing。
　　So　Arren　looked　at　him　with　the　clear　eyes　of　despair　and　saw　nothing。
　　No　memory　stirred　in　him　of　the　fountain　under　the　rowan　tree；　or　of　the　white　magelight　on　the　slave…ship　in　the　fog；　or　of　the　weary　orchards　of　the　House　of　the　Dyers。　Nor　did　any　pride　or　stubbornness　of　will　wake　in　him。　He　watched　dawn　e　over　the　quiet　sea；　where　low；　great　swells　ran　colored　like　pale　amethyst；　and　it　was　all　like　a　dream；　pallid；　with　no　grip　or　vigor　of　reality。　And　at　the　depths　of　the　dream　and　of　the　sea；　there　was　nothing　…　a　gap；　a　void。　There　were　no　depths。
　　The　boat　moved　forward　irregularly　and　slowly；　following　the　fitful　humor　of　the　wind。　Behind；　the　peaks　of　Obehol　shrank　black　against　the　rising　sun；　from　which　the　wind　came；　bearing　the　boat　away　from　land；　away　from　the　world；　out　onto　the　open　sea。
　
　The　Children　Of　the　Open　Sea
　
　　Toward　the　midd