世界之脊 第25章 神迹 (先发一半)
先发一半上来,这是最后一章了,后面还有个尾声
世界之脊 第25章 神迹
第 25 章
神迹
两天之后，莫里克预测的暴风雪真的来了,但由于天气已经开始变暖，所以不是那么猛烈——道路勉强还可以通过。这两个骑马者迈着沉重的步伐前进，同时小心的寻找着“路”。尽管天气恶劣，但由于沃夫加的努力，他们走的很快。没多久就到达一个分散者农场与石屋的区域。现在暴风雨帮了他们不少忙，因为这样的天气里中厚实的窗帘后面很少出现好奇的面孔，而且在穿过暴风雪后，他们的皮肤上粘满了血，几乎不可能被认出来。
不久，沃夫加躲在一块悬着的大石头后面，看着莫里克,深水城的布兰德博格公爵,骑马进入了村庄。现在天变得很长，暴风雨也还在继续，但是莫里克没有再回来。沃夫加离开了他的避风处转移到了一个能看见奥克城堡的地方。如果莫里克的身份被揭穿的话他想要知道。如果这样，他应该冲下去救他的朋友吗？
沃夫加对自己的处境感到可笑。莫里克现在很可能正在城堡温暖的火炉前，享受着美味的食物。野蛮人回到了他的避风处，开始刷他的马，并提醒他自己要有耐心。
最后莫里克回来了,一脸严肃。“我没被友好的接待,”他解释到。
“你的身份被揭穿了？”
“没有，不是因为这个。”盗贼说。“他们认为我是布兰德博格公爵,但是他们对你我同时消失感到怀疑。”
沃夫加点了点头，他们早就预见了这种情况。“如果他们怀疑你，你是怎么离开的？”
“我努力使他们相信这是个巧合。”他回答到, “我又为什么回到奥克尼呢？当然，为了享受一顿向他们解释我离开的大餐。”
“当然，”沃夫加狡猾地表示同意, 他的语调很冷淡。“那么马萝达和她的孩子怎么样了? 你见到她了吗?”野蛮人问到。
莫里克把马鞍从他的马身上扯了下来开始刷他的马,就像是准备上路。“我们该走了，”他平静的说到。“远远的离开这里。”
“你知道些什么？”沃夫加急切的问到，他真的很关心。
“我们在这里没有朋友,甚至没有认识的人，现在没有任何人有接待访客的心情, ”莫里克答到。“无论对于沃夫加、莫里克或者布兰德博格公爵,远离这快可怜的领地都是个好的选择。”
沃夫加弯身抓住盗贼的双肩,把他转了过来。“马萝达怎么了”他问。
“她昨天深夜生了个孩子。”莫里克好象很不愿意承认。沃夫加的眼睛因担心而瞪的很大，“两个人都活着，”莫里克很快补充到,“到现在为止。”盗贼转过身去，继续做他的工作。
感到沃夫加正急切的看着他，莫里克叹了都气又转了回去。“听着，她曾经诬告你强奸她。”他提醒到。“她是为了掩饰自己。”莫里克继续说到。“她的谎言判了你死刑,只是为了向自己的丈夫掩饰她的不忠。”沃夫加再一次点了点头，这些他都知道。
莫里克困惑的看着他的朋友，奇怪他对于这一切无动于衷,奇怪他一点也不愤怒，因为这个女人，他被折磨，差点就要被处死。
“好吧，现在他们对孩子的出生产生了怀疑。”莫里克解释到。“太快了,考虑到她被我们抢劫的时间, 这就是所有人都不相信她讲的故事的原因。”
沃夫加叹了口气。“我担心的都发生了。”
“我听说在弗林戈公爵和马萝达之间的婚礼的那一天有一个男人跳崖死了，死前叫着她的名字。”
“弗林戈公爵认为他给他戴了绿帽子?”沃夫加问到。
“不是很确定，”莫里克答复。“孩子在婚礼之前就被考虑到了——即使它是你的孩子 ,也上这样——但是他知道,当然, 她妻子曾经和另一个男人恋爱过，而现在，他可能认为她是自愿，而不是被强奸的。”
“一个被强奸的女人是无辜的。”沃夫加说出了他的看法,全凭自己的感觉。
“一个说谎的女人······”莫里克厌恶的补充到。
沃夫加又叹了口气，走出他的避风处,再次注视着城堡。“她会怎么样呢?”他回身对莫里克说到。
*****
“把孩子送走，就像你计划的那样。”泰米格斯特向正在房间里走来走去的弗林戈领主建议到。
“现在不一样了，”年轻的男人说到，同时无能为力的握紧双拳，他的目光越过老管家看着他的姐姐。
普里西拉很放松的靠在椅子里，她得意的笑容仿佛是在提醒着她一开始就反对自己的弟弟和一个农民结婚。
“我们不知道有什么改变的。”泰米格斯特说,依然是那种充满智慧的声音。
普里西拉哼了一声，说到“你不会计算时间吗？”她问。
“孩子一定是早产了。”泰米格斯特反对到。
“它是我见过的发育最完全的孩子。”普里西拉说。“没有早产, 泰米格斯特，你知道的。”普里西拉盯着他的兄弟，又开始叙述她的观点——这已经在城堡里导致了一整天的混乱了——“孩子是在夏至时怀上的。”她说到“在那次所谓的路上强盗攻击之前。”
“我不知道。”弗林戈公爵哀叹到。他用力扯着裤子边，而这正反应了他现在脑子里乱极了。
“你怎么会不知道。”普里西拉反问到“你已经成为全领地人的笑柄，一个懦夫，因为你软弱！”
“你仍然爱她。”泰米格斯特插嘴到。
“我爱吗？”弗林戈公爵说,他的表情显得很迷惑，“我不知道。”
“那么，驱逐她，”管家提议到。“把她和孩子一起驱逐。”
“那会使村民们嘲笑的更厉害，”普里西拉酸溜溜的说到“你想看着这个孩子在数年后回来然后继承你的领地吗？我们知道多少类似的事了？”
泰米格斯特怒视着这个女人，这样的事确实发生过，但他们自己的并不寻常。
“那我该怎么办？”弗林戈领主向她的姐姐寻求答案。
“审判她。”普里西拉斩钉截铁的答到“立刻，然后解决后顾之忧。”
“解决?”弗林戈疑惑的重复到。
“她想要你杀了孩子。”泰米格斯特解释到。
“把它丢到海里去。”普里西拉兴奋地继续到,同时离开椅子向她弟弟走来。“如果你现在表现的毫不软弱，人们将更加尊重你。”
“如果你杀了一个无辜的孩子，人们将会厌恶你”泰米格斯特愤怒地说,比弗林戈公爵的对普里西拉的愤怒更多。
“无辜？”普里西拉反问到，好象这完全是一个谬论。
“那就让他们厌恶你，”她的脸弗林戈公爵只有不到一寸的距离。“至少比嘲笑要好，你会让私生子活下来吗? 顺便提醒一下，你难道不该调查一下是谁让马萝达怀孕的吗？”
“闭嘴！”弗林戈公爵命令到,推开了她。
普里西拉没有放弃，“好吧，但是想象一下，她在贾克·斯库里怀里是怎样的开心呢，”她说到，这话气得她的兄弟浑身发抖，甚至无法说出话来。“我打赌一定努力向他展现自己最漂亮的地方。”普里西拉下流的说完。
年轻的领主嘴里发出了一声野性的怒吼。他用双手抓住了他姐姐的肩膀，粗暴的推开了他。她满意的笑着，看着这一切——她的被激怒的兄弟走过泰米格斯特身旁，冲向楼梯。通往马萝达和她孩子房间的楼梯。
*****
“她被保护着，你知道。”莫里克大声提醒到, 但他的声音在狂风中仍显得单薄。
沃夫加并没有注意到这个警告。他的眼睛一直盯着奥克城堡，目光纹丝不动。他把雪堆成世界之脊的样子,就好象这是现在的他与原来的他之间的屏障。当那一个障碍之时在男人之间他是和他变得的受害人。现在，他的大脑不在被酒精所麻痹,他用强烈的自我承认来抵挡他被囚禁时的那些恐怖画面, 沃夫加在内心深处清楚的作出了选择。他发现他在可以离开的情况下坚持着,他可以越过情绪的障碍,可以像以前那样战斗。
野蛮人用怒吼对抗暴风雪。当他接近桥时甚至开始加速，速度越来越快,全速奔跑起来,迅速转向右边，雪几乎是和城堡的城墙和护栏平行飘过。地面上的雪没过了沃夫加的膝盖,但是他怒吼着躺着雪不断前进。他从雪面上跳起，伸出手臂用战锤锤头勾住了城墙。沃夫加听到一声来自上方的惊呼，由于对着石头声音格外的大，但是他几乎没有减慢速度,强壮的肌肉瞬间绷紧,将自己向上拉动，顺势一滚，穿过了城墙上的垛口。他敏捷的落在了护栏里面,正好站在了两个惊呆了的守卫之间,他们为了使自己的手感觉暖和点都没有握着武器。
莫里克用和沃夫加相同的方法进入城堡，他以完美的平衡敏捷的跳过了剁口，而不是像沃夫加靠力量。即使这样,当他到达护栏的时候，沃夫加已经站在了城堡的大院里，两个守卫躺在地上呻吟着, 一个捂着下巴，另一个抱着肚子。
“守住门，”一个守卫努力大叫到。
门啪的一声打开了,一个男人向外张望。当看到沃夫加后,试图快速关上它。就在它被关上之前,沃夫加赶到了，用尽全力将门向后拉。他听到了男人大声求助的声音，感到又有一个守卫在里面拉门，用尽全力。
“我也来了。”莫里克喊到,“虽然只有诸神知道这是为什么！”
他的思想在很远的地方,一个充满黑色浓雾的地方,空气中传来了他孩子痛苦的哭声。沃夫加没有听到他朋友的喊叫,不需要他。伴随着一声怒吼，他用尽全里，在门被最后关上前拉开了他,随手将两个守卫甩到了前厅的墙上，就好象那是两个孩子一样。
“她在哪？”沃夫加问到,就在这时，前厅的另一个门被打开。莱恩·木门出现在门后，拿着剑冲了上来。
“现在咱们来算帐吧，狗东西。”车夫吼到,快速凶狠的将剑刺出，这只是一个佯攻。他将剑向后拉,突然转向,横扫剑锋迷惑对手,再迅速转回来，精准的刺出了足以致命的一击。
莱恩很出色,他也知道自己是整个奥克尼最好的战士。但是他很难理解沃夫加的锤子如此快速的挥出然后用锤头勾住了剑刃将这次攻击打偏，他是怎么使自己巨大的身体如此敏捷的移动到能够攻击到自己的地方，他怎么做到如此完美的转身，用他粗壮的手臂抬起了莱恩握剑的手臂，莱恩了解自己的剑术,所以他很难理解他如此聪明的攻击怎么就这样被完全的化解了。莱恩只感到自己的脸被按在了墙上，他的双臂被扭到背后拉紧，野蛮人呼出的热气喷在了他的脖子上。
“马萝达和她的孩子, ”沃夫加问到。“她们在哪?”
“我死也不会告诉你的。”莱恩回答到。沃夫加继续加力。老侏儒觉得自己马上就要死了，但是他用决心与怒吼对抗痛苦。
沃夫加把他转了过来连续猛击将他打倒在地上。莱恩几乎拌倒了刚刚从另一扇门进来的莫里克。
沃夫加跟在他后面，他们听到了声音，莫里克带路,他们撞碎一组两边开的门进入一个舒服起居室。
“布兰德博格领主?”普拉西里叫到。
当她看见沃夫加跟着盗贼进入房间后，普拉西里尖叫着从椅子里起身后退“马萝达和孩子在哪?”他吼到。
“你造成的伤害还不够多吗？”管家泰米格斯特说到,勇敢的站在了巨大男人的面前。
沃夫加注视着他。“太多了”，他承认,“但不会在这。”
泰米格斯特站了回去。
“她们在哪里?”沃夫加向普拉西里走近，问到。
“强盗，凶手！”普里西拉尖叫着倒在地上。
沃夫加看着泰米格斯特。令沃夫加惊异的是，老管家向楼梯点了点头然后走了过去。
就在这时, 普里西拉·奥克全速跑上了楼梯。
Chapter 25
EPIPHANY
Two days later, Morik's predicted snowstorm did come on, but its fury was somewhat tempered by the late season, leaving the road passable. The two riders plodded along, taking care to stay on the trail. They made good time, despite the foul weather, with Wulfgar driving them hard. Soon they came to a region of scattered farmhouses and stone cottages. Now the storm proved to be their ally, for few curious faces showed in the heavily curtained windows, and through the snow, wrapped in thick skins, the pair were hardly recognizable.
Soon after, Wulfgar waited in a sheltered overhang along the foothills, while Morik, Lord Brandeburg of Waterdeep, rode down into the village. The day turned late, the storm continued, but Morik didn't return. Wulfgar left his shelter to move to a vantage point that would afford him a view of Castle Auck. He wondered if Morik had been discovered. If so, should he rush down to find some way to aid his friend?
Wulfgar gave a chuckle. It was more likely that Morik had stayed on at the castle for a fine meal and was warming himself before the hearth at that very moment. The barbarian retreated again to his shelter to brush down his horse, telling himself to be patient.
Finally Morik did return, wearing a grim expression indeed. "I was not met with friendly hugs," he explained.
"Your disguise did not hold?"
"It's not that," said the rogue. "They thought me Lord Brandeburg, but just as I feared they considered it a bit odd that I disappeared at the same time you did."
Wulfgar nodded. They had discussed that very possibility. "Why did they let you leave if they were suspicious?"
"I convinced them it was but a coincidence," he reported, "else why would I return to Auckney? Of course, I had to share a large meal to persuade them."
"Of course," Wulfgar agreed archly, his tone dry. "What of Lady Meralda and her child? Did you see her?" the barbarian prompted.
Morik pulled the saddle from his horse and began brushing his own beast down, as if preparing again for the road. "It is time for us to be gone," he replied flatly. "Far from here."
"What news?" Wulfgar pressed, now truly concerned.
"We have no allies here, and no acquaintances even, in any mood to entertain visitors," Morik replied. "Better for all that Wulfgar, Morik, and Lord Brandeburg, put this wretched little pretend fiefdom far behind their horses' tails."
Wulfgar leaned over and grabbed the rogue's shoulder, roughly turning him from his work on the horse. "The Lady Meralda?" he demanded.
"She birthed a child late last night," Morik admitted reluctantly. Wulfgar's eyes grew wide with trepidation. "Both survived," Morik quickly added, "for now." Pulling away, the rogue went back to his work with renewed vigor.
Feeling Wulfgar's eyes on him expectantly, Morik sighed and turned back. "Look, she told them that you had ravished her," he reminded his friend. "It seems likely that she was covering an affair," Morik reasoned. "She lied, condemning you, to hide her own betrayal of the young lord." Again, the knowing nod, for this was no news to Wulfgar.
Morik looked at him hard, surprised that he was not shaken somewhat by the blunt expression of all that had occurred, surprised that he was showing no anger at all despite the fact that, because of the woman, he had been beaten and nearly brutally executed.
"Well, now there is doubt concerning the heritage of the child," Morik explained. "The birth was too soon, considering our encounter with the girl on the road, and there are those within the village and castle who do not believe her tale."
Wulfgar gave a profound sigh. "I suspected as much would happen."
"I heard some talk of a young man who fell to his death on the day of the wedding between Lord Feringal and Meralda, a man who died crying out for her."
"Lord Feringal believes he's the one who cuckolded him?" Wulfgar asked.
"Not specifically," Morik replied. "Since the child was surely conceived before the wedding-even if it had been your child, that would have been so-but he knows, of course, that his wife once lay with another, and now he may be thinking that it was of her own volition and not something forced upon her on a wild road."
"A ravished woman is without blame," Wulfgar put in, for it all made sense.
"While a cheating woman. . . ." Morik added ominously.
Wulfgar gave another sigh and walked out of the shelter, staring again at the castle. "What will happen to her?" he called back to Morik.
"The marriage will be declared invalid, surely," Morik answered, having lived in human cities long enough to understand such things.
"And the Lady Meralda will be sent from the castle," the barbarian said hopefully.
"If she's fortunate, she'll be banished from Feringal Auck's domain with neither money nor title," Morik replied.
"And if she's unfortunate?" Wulfgar asked.
Morik winced. "Noblemen's wives have been put to death for such offenses," the worldly rogue replied.
"What of the child?" an increasingly agitated Wulfgar demanded. The images of his own horrible past experiences began edging in at the corners of his consciousness.
"If fortunate, banished," Morik replied, "though I fear such an action will take more good fortune than the banishment of the woman. It is very complicated. The child is a threat to Auck's domain, but also to his pride."
"They would kill a child, a helpless babe?" Wulfgar asked, his teeth clenched tightly as those awful memories began to creep ever closer.
"The rage of a betrayed lord cannot be underestimated," Morik answered grimly. "Lord Feringal cannot show weakness, else risk the loss of the respect of his people and the loss of his lands. Complicated and unpleasant business, all. Now let us be gone from this place."
Wulfgar was indeed gone, storming out from under the overhang and stalking down the trails. Morik was quick to catch him.
"What will you do?" the rogue demanded, recognizing Wulfgar's resolve.
"I don't know, but I've got to do something," Wulfgar said, increasing his pace with the level of his agitation while Morik struggled to keep up. As they entered the village, the storm again proved an ally, for no peasants were about. Wulfgar's eyes were set on the bridge leading to Castle Auck.
*****
"Give the child away, as you planned," Steward Temigast suggested to the pacing Lord Feringal.
"It is different now," the young man stammered, slapping his fists helplessly at his sides. He glanced over at Priscilla. His sister was sitting comfortably, her smug smile a reminder that she'd warned him against marrying a peasant in the first place.
"We don't know that anything has changed," Temigast said, always the voice of reason.
Priscilla snorted. "Can you not count?" she asked.
"The child could be early," Temigast protested.
"As well-formed a babe as ever I've seen," said Priscilla. "She was not early, Temigast, and you know it." Priscilla looked straight at her brother, reiterating the talk that had been buzzing about Castle Auck all day. "The child was conceived mid-summer," she said, "before the supposed attack on the road."
"How can I know for sure?" Lord Feringal wailed. His hands tore at the sides of his pants, an accurate reflection of the rending going on inside his mind.
"How can you not know?" Priscilla shot back. "You've been made a fool to the mirth of all the village. Will you compound that now with weakness?"
"You still love her," Steward Temigast cut in.
"Do I?" Lord Feringal said, so obviously torn and confused. "I don't know anymore."
"Send her away, then," the steward offered. "Banish her with the child."
"That would make the villagers laugh all the harder," Priscilla observed sourly. "Do you want the child to return in a score of years and take your kingdom from you? How many times have we heard of such tales?"
Temigast glared at the woman. Such things had occurred, but they were far from common.
"What am I to do, then?" Lord Feringal demanded of his sister.
"A trial of treason for the whore," Priscilla answered matter-of-factly, "and a swift and just removal of the result of her infidelity."
"Removal?" Feringal echoed skeptically.
"She wants you to kill the child," Temigast explained archly.
"Throw it to the waves," Priscilla supplied feverishly, coming right out of her chair. "If you show no weakness now, the folk will still respect you."
"They will hate you more if you murder an innocent child," Temigast said angrily, more to Priscilla than Lord Feringal.
"Innocent?" Priscilla balked as if the notion were preposterous.
"Let them hate you," she said to Lord Feringal, moving her face to within an inch of his. "Better that than to laugh at you. Would you suffer the bastard to live? A reminder, then, of he who lay with Meralda before you?"
"Shut your mouth!" Lord Feringal demanded, pushing her back.
Priscilla didn't back down. "Oh, but how she purred in the arms of Jaka Sculi," she said, and her brother was trembling so much that he couldn't even speak through his grinding teeth. "I'll wager she arched that pretty back of hers for him," Priscilla finished lewdly.
Feral, sputtering sounds escaped the young lord. He grabbed his sister by the shoulders with both hands and flung her aside. She was smiling the whole time, satisfied, for the enraged lord shoved past Temigast and ran for the stairs. The stairs that led to Meralda and her bastard child.
*****
"It's guarded, you know," Morik reminded him, yelling though his voice sounded thin in the howling wind.
Wulfgar wouldn't have heeded the warning anyway. His eyes were set on Castle Auck, and his line to the bridge didn't waver. He pictured the mounds of snow as the Spine of the World, as that barrier between the man he had been and the victim he had become. Now, his mind free at last of all influence of potent liquor, his strength of will granting him armor against those awful images of his imprisonment, Wulfgar saw the choices clearly before him. He could turn back to the life he had found or he could press on, could cross that emotional barrier, could fight and claw his way back to the man he once was.
The barbarian growled and pressed on against the storm. He even picked up speed as he reached the bridge, a fast walk, a trot, then a full run as he picked his course, veering to the right, where the snow had drifted along the railing and the castle's front wall. Up the drift Wulfgar went, crunching into snow past his knees, but growling and plowing on, maintaining his momentum. He leaped from the top of the drift, reaching with an outstretched arm to hook his hammer's head atop the wall. Wulfgar heard a startled call from above as it caught loudly against the stone, but he hardly slowed, great muscles cording and tugging, propelling him upward, where he rolled around, slipping right over the crenelated barrier. He landed nimbly on his feet on the parapet within, right between two dumbfounded guards, neither of them holding a weapon as they tried to keep their hands warm.
Morik rushed up the same path as Wulfgar, using agile moves to scale the wall nearly as fast as his friend had done with brute strength. Still, by the time he got to the parapet Wulfgar was already down in the courtyard, storming for the main keep. Both guards were down, too, lying on the ground and groaning, one holding his jaw, the other curled up and clutching his belly.
"Secure the door!" one of the guards managed to cry out.
The main door cracked open then, a man peeking out. Seeing Wulfgar bearing in, he tried to close it fast. Wulfgar got there just before it slammed, pushing back with all his strength. He heard the man calling frantically for help, felt the greater push as another guard joined the first, both leaning heavily.
"I'm coming, too," Morik called, "though only the gods know why!"
His thoughts far away, in a dark and smoky place where his child's last terrified cry rent the air, Wulfgar didn't hear his friend, didn't need him. Bellowing, he shoved with all his strength until the door flew in, tossing the two guards like children against the back wall of the foyer.
"Where is she?" Wulfgar demanded, and even as he spoke the foyer's other door swung open. Liam Woodgate appeared, rushing in with sword in hand.
"Now you pay, dog!" the coachman cried, coming in fast and hard, stabbing, a feint. Pulling the blade back in, he sent it into a sudden twirl, then feigned a sidelong slice, turning it over again and coming straight in with a deadly thrust.
Liam was good, the best fighter in all of Auckney, and he knew it. That's why it was difficult to understand how Wulfgar's hammer came out so fast to hook over Liam's blade and take it safely wide of the mark. How could the huge barbarian turn so nimbly on his feet to get within reach of Liam's sword? How was he able to come around perfectly, sending his thick arm spiking up under Liam's sword arm? Liam knew his own skill, and so it was even harder for him to understand how his clever attack had been turned against him so completely. Liam knew only that his face was suddenly pressed against the stone wall, his arms pulled tight behind his back, and the snarling barbarian's breath was on his neck.
"Lady Meralda and the child," Wulfgar asked. "Where are they?"
"I'd die afore I'd tell you!" Liam declared. Wulfgar pressed in. The poor old gnome thought he surely would die, but Liam held his determined tongue and growled against the pain.
Wulfgar spun him around and slammed him once, then slammed him again when he managed somehow to hold his feet, launching him over to the floor. Liam nearly tripped up Morik, who skipped right on by through the other door and into the castle proper.
Wulfgar was right behind him. They heard voices, and Morik led the way, crashing through a set of double doors and into a comfortable sitting room.
"Lord Brandeburg?" Lady Priscilla asked.
She squealed in fright and fell back in her chair as Wulfgar followed the rogue into the room. "Where is Lady Meralda and the child?" he roared.
"Haven't you caused enough harm?" Steward Temigast demanded, moving to stand boldly before the huge man.
Wulfgar looked him right in the eye. "Too much," he admitted, "but none here."
That set Temigast back on his heels.
"Where are they?" Wulfgar demanded, rushing up to Priscilla.
"Thieves! Murderers!" Priscilla cried, swooning.
Wulfgar locked stares with Temigast. To Wulfgar's surprise, the old steward nodded and motioned toward the staircase.
Even as he did, Priscilla Auck ran full-out up the staircase.
