Chapter 3 Chapter 3 Hult Town

In the darkness before dawn, Arren put on the clothes that had been prepared for him, a full sailor suit, old but clean.Once he was dressed, he walked quickly through the quiet hall of Hongxuan Pavilion, and walked to the east gate carved with dragon horns and a whole dragon tooth.The gatekeeper smiled slightly and let him go out, and showed him the way.He first took the highest street in the town, and then turned into a small path.The trail runs south of the Haven Shore, parallel to the wharf at Syl, and leads to the boathouses below the academy.He barely recognized the way to go.Trees, roofs, hills, etc., are still huge black masses in the darkness.The pitch-black space was completely silent and cold.Everything is motionless, shrunken and hazy.Only in the still dark sea in the east, a faint clear line can be seen, which is the sea level, patting the sun that has not yet shown its face.

He came to the steps of the boathouse. There was no one there, and there was no movement.His baggy sailor suit and wool beanie kept him warm enough, but he still stood on the stone steps, waiting in the dark, shivering. The boathouses floated faintly on the black water.Suddenly a hollow sound came out of it, it was a rumbling knocking sound, repeated twice.Arren felt his hairs stand on end.A long shadow slipped out and floated quietly on the water—it turned out to be a boat, sliding gently towards the pier.Arren ran down the steps, onto the dock, and leaped into the boat. "Hold the tiller," said a dark and soft figure in the bow, the Archmage, "hold steady, I'm going to hoist the sails."

They were out of the dock now, the sails unfurled from the masts like white wings to meet the crescendoing light. "The west wind saves us from rowing out of the bay. It must be a gift from Master Fengkey. Look at this boat, child, how easy she goes! Well, the west wind and the clear dawn are really the balance of wind and scenery in spring." day"." "Is this ship the Foresight?" Arren had heard songs and legends of the Archmage's ship. "Hey." The other replied, busy pulling the rope.As the wind picked up, the boat swooped and turned.Arren gritted his teeth and tried to steady the boat.

"Master, she moves very easily, but she is a bit willful." The archmage laughed. "Let her go as she pleases, she is wise too." Then he paused, kneeling on the beam of the ship, facing Arren. "Listen, Arren, from now on, I am not some master, and you are not a prince. I am a merchant, named Houying, and you are my nephew, named Arren, and learn the seas with me. We are Yingluck I’m from Tokushima. What kind of town? It’s better to be a big town, so as not to happen to meet people from the same town.” "How about Termere on the south coast? They do business with every Border District."

The archmage nodded. "However," Arren said cautiously, "you don't speak like Inlad." "I know, I speak with a Gont accent." His companion laughed, looking up at the fading east. "But I guess I can imitate you if necessary. So it's settled: we'll start from Te Come, Myr, this ship is called the Dolphin, and I'm not a master, nor a mage, nor a Sparrowhawk, so—what's my name?" "Hou Ying, master." Arren bit his lip. "Nephew, practice a lot." The archmage said: "Practice will do. You have never played any role other than a prince before. But I have appeared in many forms, the least role-perhaps the most insignificant , is to be the archmage... We are going south to find Elmo stone, which is the blue ore that people use to carve into amulets. I know that the Enlad people value that ore very much, and use it as a talisman to avoid catching cold , sprains, stiff necks, and gaffes.”

Arren laughed.After a while he looked up, and the boat was hanging just above a wave, and he saw the edge of the sun against the sea level.In a blink of an eye, a raging golden light radiated in front of them. As the waves rolled and the boat heaved with it, Sparrowhawk had to hold onto the mast with one hand while he stood.He faced the sunrise at the equinox and sang.Arren could not understand the Old Tongue of the wizards and dragons, but he could hear the praise and joy in the words, and the strong rhythm.The strong rhythm is like the continuous and eternal rhythm of the rising and falling of the tide or the alternation of day and night.The coast of the Firth of Suir was first to their right, then to their left, and then gradually fell behind them, and they rode the waves and the sun into the Inner Pole.

It was not a great voyage from Roke Island to Hult Town.But they still spent three nights at sea.The archmage was eager to set off, but when he set sail, he was very patient.Once they were out of the spell-checked weather of Roke, the wind turned all the way.In such a situation any weather master would have instantly summoned the spellwind to fill the sails, but the Archmage did not do that, instead taking the opportunity to teach Arren for hours on how to sail on Iser with a stubborn headwind. The rocky canine-toothed sea in the east of Erdao Island.On the second day at sea, it rained, a cold March rain, but he didn't use any magic to drive the rain away.The next night they lay outside the entrance to Hult Harbour, in quiet cold foggy darkness.Arens thought for a while, and thought that in just two or three days, he had learned about the Archmage: the Archmage did not practice spells at all.

Still, he was an unrivaled sailor.Sailing with him for three days, the driving skills I have learned are more than ten years in the boat competition in Berilla Bay.Wizards are comparable to sailors, both work with the forces of the sky and the sea, and sometimes bend the winds to their own advantage so as to turn distance into nearness.Therefore, whether it is the "Great Master" or the sea merchant Hou Ying, there is really no difference. Although he is very humorous, he is quite quiet.However clumsy Arren may be, he is not irritable, and he is very tolerant.There was no better shipmate than he, Arren thought.But the archmage would be lost in his own thoughts for hours on end, and when he had to speak, his voice, though hoarse, could see right through Arren.Although these circumstances did not weaken the boy's love for him, I'm afraid it somewhat softened his liking for him, making that love a little awe-inspiring.

Sparrowhawk might have sensed it, so he told Arren here and there on that foggy night off the coast of Vasor. "Tomorrow, I don't want to join the crowd again right away," he said. "I've been pretending that I'm free...pretending that everything is all right, that I'm not an archmage, or even a warlock. No responsibility or privilege, no debt to anyone..." He paused before continuing: "Arren, when it comes to great choices and decisions, try to be as careful as you can. When I was young, I was faced with two choices: The life choice of "doing nothing" and "doing something". As a result, like a trout leaping to a fly, I recklessly threw myself into the latter. However, every action and action connects you with it and its result, Tightly bound together to keep you moving. Rarely is there a time like now when you come across a gap between action and action where you can stop, simply be, or think through: Are you Who."

Arren thought to himself, since this man is an archmage, how could he still have doubts about who he is and what he has done in life?Arren had always believed that such doubts belonged only to young people who had not yet experienced the world. Their ship rocked in the cold great darkness. "So, I like the sea." The voice of a sparrowhawk sounded in the darkness. Arren understood, but his thoughts, as they had been these days and nights, jumped forward to consider the purpose of their voyage.Seeing that his companions were having a lively conversation, he finally seized the opportunity to ask: "Do you think we can find what we are looking for in Huot Town?"

Sparrowhawk shook his head, maybe he couldn't find it, maybe he didn't know. "Could it be a plague, an infectious disease, spreading from one island to another, destroying agriculture, animal husbandry and the human heart?" "Plague is an operation of 'the balance of one'. But now it is different. It has an evil stench. When the balance of all things returns to right, it may require us to suffer a little, but it will not cause people to lose hope, or give up. Absolute skill, forgetting the language of creation. "Nature" will not be so unreasonable. The current situation is not Zhiheng's "returning to normal", but Zhiheng's "overturning". Only one kind of creature can do it." "Did someone do it?" Arren asked tentatively. "We humans did it." "How did you do it?" "By an unbridled desire to live." "Survival? But is it wrong to try to survive?" "That's right. However, if we aspire to control our existence, we cannot help longing for endless wealth, for unassailable security, for immortality, and so on. In this way, existence becomes greed. If we combine knowledge with this greed If you want to form an alliance, evil will be born, and the balance of the world will also be shaken. At that point, the degree of damage will be considerable." Arren thought for a moment, then said: "Then you think we are interviewing a man?" "Yes, I think it is such a person, a mage." "However, according to the teachings of my father and other teachers, I have always thought that the high-strength skills of witchcraft depend on "great balance", that is, the "one balance" that encompasses everything. If so, it is impossible for people to use it for nefarious purposes." "This is a hotly debated point." Sparrowhawk said with a bit of sarcasm: "'The debate of mages never ends'...Every island in the Earth Sea knows that some witches will cast unclean spells , some warlocks will use their skills to gain wealth. Not only that. The "Fire Lord" who tried to eliminate the darkness and stop the noon sun at noon was also a powerful mage. Rhett's enemy is another powerful mage. As long as that mage appears, the whole city kneels down to him, and the army dies for him. The spell he uses against Morad is so powerful that he When he was killed, the mana could not be stopped. In the end, Surya Island sank to the bottom of the sea because it could not bear it, and everything on the island was destroyed. This is an example of a man with great power and knowledge serving evil and using it to grow stronger. Therefore , Whether the witchcraft of obedience to the good will prove to be always the stronger side, we really don't know, at most we can only hold such hopes." Hopes for an affirmative answer are always dashed.Arren found himself reluctant to accept the chilling truth, and said after a while: "I guess I can see why you say only men are capable of evil. After all, even sharks kill when necessary. They Naturally simple and ignorant.” "That is why there is nothing in the world against us to do evil. There is only one thing in the world against the evil-minded man--and that is another. Our glory is hidden in our shame; our hearts can do evil, But only our own minds can overcome evil." "But the dragons?" said Arren. "Have they not done great evil? Are they innocent?" "Dragon! Dragons are greedy, insatiable, rebellious, have no pity, no mercy. But are they evil? Who am I to judge the actions of dragons?  …Arren, they are wiser than men, and with them, It's like living with dreams. Humans dream, cast spells, do good, but also do evil. Dragons don't dream, they are dreams themselves. They don't cast magic, magic is their essence, their being. They don't do anything: they just exist. " "Baorth's dragon hide was abandoned in Sherillon," said Arren. "That dragon was slain three hundred years ago by Prince Kevor of Enlad. Since that day no dragon has come to Enlad again. Tokushima has played a trick. I have seen the skin of Baous, which is as thick as iron and huge. It is said that if it is fully unfolded, it can cover the entire Cherillon Market. A single tooth is as long as my arm, but they said , Baous is a young dragon, not yet fully developed." "It sounds like you'd love to see the dragon," Sparrowhawk said. "Yes." "Their blood is cold and poisonous. You must never look into their eyes. They are older than humans..." The archmage was silent for a moment, and then said: "Although some of my past deeds have been forgotten, some are still alive today. Still sorry, but I'll always remember seeing dragons dance in the sunset wind over the western islands once. I've had enough." After finishing speaking, both of them were silent, except for the murmur of sea water beating the boat, there was no sound, and there was no light around.In the end, above the deep sea, they finally fell asleep. In the bright mist of the morning they sailed into Holt Harbour.There are hundreds of ships moored or about to set sail in the port, including fishing boats, crab boats, trawlers, merchant ships, two large ships with 20 oars, a large ship with 60 oars to be repaired, and some long and narrow boats. sailboat.That kind of sailboat is equipped with specially designed jib sails, which is good for catching the wind in the hot and calm waters around the southern border. "Is that a ship of war?" Arren asked as one of the twenty-oared ships passed.His companion replied: "Judging from the chain latch in the cabin, I judge that it is a slave ship. There are people engaged in slave trade in the southern border area." Arren thought for a moment, then went to the engine chest, and drew his sword.When boarding the ship, he packed the sword tightly, put it away in the engine box, and took it when he was about to leave the ship.Now he opened the parcel, the sword in its scabbard was in his hand, and the hanging sash dangled, but he stood there, undecided. "It's not like a sea merchant's sword," he said. "The scabbard is too delicate." Sparrowhawk, busy at the tiller, glanced at him. "If you want to wear it, wear it." "I thought it might be intelligent." "As far as the sword of the world is concerned, it is indeed a sword with wisdom." His companion said, raising his vigilance and paying attention to the crowded bay road he was crossing. "Isn't it the sword that you don't want to be used?" Arren nodded. "That's what the legend says. But it has already started to kill, and it has killed people." He looked down at the long, slender but worn-out hilt of the sword. "It has killed people, but I haven't. This makes me feel that I am too young. It is too old for me...I'd better carry a knife." After finishing speaking, he rewrapped the sword and stuffed it in the engine case Underneath, the expression is dispirited.Sparrowhawk didn't say anything, but after a while he said, "Could you hold the oars, boy? We're heading for the pier by the steps." The town of Huot is one of the seven major ports throughout the archipelago.The port city starts from the noisy shore and extends upwards to three hills and steep slopes. The whole city looks like a mass of strange colors.The mud walls of the dwellings were red, orange, yellow, white;Gaudy striped awnings, one after the other, provide shade for the narrow marketplace.The pier is brightly sunny, and the streets behind the shore seem to be dark blocks, full of shadows, crowds and city noises. When they had fastened the boat, Sparrowhawk stooped as if examining the knots, and said to Arren who was beside him, "Arren, I am known to many in Vasso, so look now to see that you do Me." When he straightened up, the scars on his face disappeared, his hair was rather gray, his nose was thick and turned up a little, and the yew witch's staff that was his height was reduced to a thin ivory stick stuck in his coat. "Do you know me?" He grinned and asked with an Inlad accent: "Have you never met your uncle before?" Arren had seen the wizard change his face in Berilla's palace, during the pantomime of The Morad's Fellowship.Therefore, knowing that "face changing" is just an illusion, he can calmly respond: "Oh, I know, Uncle Hou Ying!" But Arren kept watching him as the Archmage and the harbor militia negotiated for the berthing and guarding fees of the ships, hoping to remember his face.But during this period of observation, the archmage's disguise made him feel more and more headaches instead of seeing it more and more clearly, because it had become too thorough, and it was not the archmage himself, nor the wise mentor and The leader... the militia demanded a high fee, and Sparrowhawk complained as he paid it, and continued to complain when he paid it and left with Arren. "It's a test of my patience," he said, "to pay that man-eating thief to watch over my ship! I can do twice as much work as he does with half a spell! Oh, that's what disguise is all about." The price of tolerance... Ah, I forgot the tone of speech, didn't I, nephew?" They climbed through a crowded, smelly, vain street, lined with shops little bigger than stalls, and the shopkeepers stood at the doorway where they stacked their wares, loudly advertising that they were selling good and cheap goods. , including pots and pans, socks, hats, shovels, pins, purses, jugs, baskets, knives, ropes, screws, bed sheets and other hardware and clothing items. "Is this a market?" "Huh?" The gray-haired man with a lion's nose lowered his head and asked. "Uncle, is this a market?" "The market? No, no. They sell here all year round. Don't sell me fish cakes, miss, I've had my breakfast!" Arren also tried to get away from a man holding a tray of small brass containers.The man followed him all the time, peddling in a low voice: "Buy it, buy it, Master Jun, this thing will not let you down, it smells so good like Numima's roses, it can confuse women and make them throw themselves into their arms Hug, give it a try, young ship master, young prince..." Suddenly Sparrowhawk stood between Arren and the peddler with a sudden lunge, and said, "What's the curse on this thing?" "No magic spell!" The man flinched back. "I don't sell spells, Captain! It's just maple syrup. Use it to freshen your breath after drinking or inhaling psychedelic roots. It's just maple syrup, sir!" He backed away until he fell on the slate , the entire container was dumped on the ground, some of them were dumped, and the viscous liquid contained inside leaked from the container lid, and the color of the liquid was close to pink or pinkish purple. Sparrowhawk said nothing more, turned around and continued walking with Arren.Before long, the crowd thinned out and the shops shabby.The products are displayed in dilapidated kennels, and they are all just a bunch of bent nails, a broken pestle, and an old comb.This shabby appearance was not what made Arren most uncomfortable; it was the pressure of the stacks of wares and the cries of wares that had suffocated him just now on the wealthier side of the street.He was also shocked by the desolation of the hawker: he could not help but recall the cool and bright streets of his hometown in the north.He thought to himself, there would never be anyone in Berilla who clings to strangers like this, begging to sell goods in a low voice. "The people of this town are disgusting!" he said. His companion simply replied, "This way, nephew." They turned into an alleyway that was wedged between the tall, windowless red walls of the house that ran along the foot of the hill.Then, through an arched entrance and exit decorated with worn flags, you step into the sunshine of a steep square.Here is another market, with many sheds and stalls, crowded with people and flies. There are some men and women around the square, either sitting or lying down, all of them are motionless.Their mouths were strangely black, like bruises; flies gathered around their lips, like clusters of raisins. "There are so many." Sparrowhawk's voice was speaking, low and urgent, as if he, too, had been taken aback.But when Arren looked at him, he still had the rough and kind face of the sturdy businessman Hou Ying, without any expression of worry. "What happened to those people?" "Smoking psychedelic grass roots. It has calming and numb effects, which can separate the body from the brain and allow the brain to roam freely. But after roaming back, the body will need more psychedelic grass... and the desire to smoke continues to increase, and life is relatively smooth Briefly, because the thing is poisonous: first trembling, then paralysis, and finally death." Arren looked at a woman sitting with her back against a sunny wall, and she raised her hand as if to shake the fly off her face, but the hand only twitched and arced in the air, as if it had been forgotten long ago. Moved by repeated paralysis or tremors in the muscles.The action was like a spell without purpose, a spell without meaning. Hou Ying was also looking at her, but his face was expressionless. "Go!" he said. He led the way across the market to a stall with an awning.Sunlight draws stripes through the awning, green, orange, lemon yellow, bay red, light blue.Colors are projected on the clothes, shawls, and ribbons on display, and even in the small mirrors that adorn the feathered headdresses of merchant women.The fat merchant woman raised her voice loudly and repeatedly peddled: "Silk, satin, canvas, fur, felt, wool, wool from Gont, rosary from Shore, silk from Loganary! , you two from the north, take off your tweed coats, don't you see the sun come out? Look, this is the real silk of the south, as soft as insect wings! Take it back to Havnor Island far away, How about giving it to a girl?" As she spoke, she dexterously shook off a roll of pink silk mixed with silver threads as thin as a cicada's wing. "No, ma'am, the wife we ​​married is not a queen." After hearing Hou Ying's words, the merchant woman raised her voice: "Then what do you make your wife wear, burlap? Canvas? Poor, my wife is trembling in the snowstorm in the north , who refuses to buy some silk for her, what a miser! Now, how about this? The cashmere fur from Gont Island, to keep her warm in winter nights!" She threw it on the countertop, revealing a beige square material, which is Produced in the northeast islands, it is woven from silky wool.The disguised businessman reaches for it and smiles. "Hey, are you from Gont?" asked the high-pitched voice, and the dangling headdress cast a thousand colorful dots on the awning and cloth. "This is a product of Andro Island, do you know? Because each finger width is only four warp threads, Gont Islanders will use six or more warp threads to weave. But tell me why you changed your career from performing magic to selling Clothes? When I came here years ago, I saw you make flames out of people's ears, and turn them into birds and golden bells. That business is better than this." "That's not a business at all." The moment the fat woman answered, Arren noticed that her eyes were looking straight at him and Hou Ying as hard as onyx, and the feathers on her head were fluttering, trembling, and shining brightly. The small mirror shines frequently. "It's very clever to be able to draw flames from the ears." Hou Ying's tone sounded stern and simple: "I originally hoped that my nephew would see it." "Listen carefully, both of you," the business woman's voice became less harsh, and she put her two fat arms and her thick chest on the table. "We don't play that kind of trick anymore. Because everyone has seen through it a long time ago and doesn't want to see it anymore. I know, you can still remember me, thanks to these mirrors-you have memories of these small mirrors." She said deliberately Shaking their heads and brains, the mottled light spots around them kept circling. "Oh, just the glint of these little mirrors and a few words can fool a man's mind. As for the rest of the tricks, I won't tell you—unless someone thinks he's seeing something that's invisible to the naked eye and isn't actually there. things like flames and golden bells, or the costumes I used to dress up sailors: cloth of gold and diamonds the size of almonds. Dressed up, they all looked like kings of the islands—but, that was Tricks, things that blind people's eyes. People can be fooled, just like chickens are fooled by a snake hooked on their fingers. Yes, people are like chickens. It's just that they don't understand until the end, they are fooled and fucked Stupid, so pissed off afterwards, not having fun with this kind of thing anymore. That's why I've switched to selling these things. Maybe, all this silk isn't silk, and Gont cashmere fur isn't Gont cashmere Fur, but people will buy them and wear them after all—they will! These things are real, not like suits of gold cloth, which are nothing but fraud and air.” "Oh, oh," Hou Ying said, "It seems that the magic of making flames from ears can no longer be found in the whole of Huote Town?" Hearing the last sentence, the merchant woman frowned.She straightened up and began carefully folding the cashmere fur. "People who want to see lies and visions chew psychedelic weed," she said. "If you're interested, talk to them!" She nodded to the motionless figures around the plaza. "But some sorcerers used to help sailors hex the wind and infuse their cargo with luck. Have they all changed?" The business woman was suddenly annoyed at what Hou Ying said: "If you must find a warlock, there is one left, an excellent wizard who has a wand to kill him—see that man over there? He himself said that he once Going to sea with Captain Egger, responsible for making wind for Egger, finding big boats for him. But that's nonsense. So Captain Egger will pay him his fair return in the end: cut off his right hand. So now he sits on the There. Look at him, full of psychedelic weed, but full of air. Air and lies! Air and nonsense! All the magic you're looking for is over there, Captain Goat!" "Oh, oh, ma'am," Hou Ying said calmly, "I'm just asking." She turned around, her plump back turned outward, and the rotating mirror highlights on the headdress made people dazzled for a while.Hou Ying walked away slowly, and Arren followed beside him. He deliberately walked slowly so as to slowly approach the person the business woman was pointing at.He sat with his back against the wall, seeing nothing with his glazed-staring eyes.With a dark face with a beard, it can be seen that he was quite handsome before.The wrinkled stump of the right wrist lay across the pavement in the hot, bright sunlight. There was a bit of commotion in the stall behind them, but Arren found it hard not to stare at the man, and a wave of disgusted confusion rose within him. "Is he really a wizard?" he asked in a low voice. "He may be that Hor, weatherman who used to be Egg the pirate. They're a gang of thieves with a reputation. Ah, Arren, get out of the way!" The two of them bumped into each other.Another person walked past at a quick half-sprint, struggling to hold a flat collapsible tray containing thread, rope, lace, and so on.One stall collapsed with a crash, and the awning flipped over while being pulled like this.Crowds are pushing and shoving in the market, and the chaotic voices are shouting endlessly.The merchant woman with the mirrored head had the loudest and most prominent voice, and Arren caught a glimpse of her holding a pole or club like a swordsman in a siege, driving the crowd away.Whether this was a riot that had grown from a quarrel, or an attack devised by a gang of thieves, no one could tell.I saw the masses embrace the goods one by one, which may have been plundered, or they may be protected from plundering.In the chaos of the square, there were knife fights, fights, and fights. "Go over there." Arren pointed to the nearest side street, from which he could walk out of the square. Seeing the situation, it would be best to leave immediately.When he was about to leave, his companion grabbed his arm.Arren turned to see the man named Hal struggling to get to his feet.When he stood up straight, his body swayed for a while, without looking around for a while, he walked along the edge of the square.His one arm is always pressed against the wall of the house, as if for guidance or support. "Watch him," Sparrowhawk said, and the two began to follow.No one came to stop them or the man being followed. In a minute they were out of the Market Square, and then down the narrow winding streets, very quiet.Overhead, the attics of the houses on both sides of the street almost meet, blocking the daylight; underfoot, the pavement is slippery from the accumulation of sewage and garbage.Although Hall walked like a blind man leaning against a wall, his pace was not slow.They followed behind and had to follow suit so as not to get lost at a fork in the road.Arren suddenly felt a thrill of tracking, and his whole body was in a state of alertness, just like hunting stags in Enlad's forest before.He clearly saw every face he passed by, and he breathed the town's friendly smell of garbage, incense, carrion, and flowers.As they followed through a wide, crowded street, he heard the beating of drums and saw a line of naked men and women pass by, their wrists and waists chained, their heads and faces covered by unkempt hair.But with just a glimpse, the entire row of men and women disappeared, because they were behind Ho Er at that time, cleverly dodging and walking down a flight of stairs, and entered a narrow square. Only a few women were standing in the fountain while chatting. Here Sparrowhawk caught up to Hall, putting his hand on his shoulder.Hor shrank back, as if scalding, into the shadow of a large door.He stood trembling, staring at them with the blind eyes of hunted prey. "Is your name Hal?" Sparrowhawk asked.His questioning voice was his own, cold but gentle.The man didn't answer, as if he didn't come back to his senses, or didn't hear him. "I want to ask you something," Sparrowhawk said, but there was still no reply. "I'll pay." He responded slowly: "Ivory or gold?" "gold." "How many?" "Wizards know the value of spells best." Hall's face flinched, and his expression changed, becoming more energetic.But the change was as quick as a flame flickering for a moment, and then immediately returned to a dull expression of haze. "The spells are all gone," he said. "All gone." A cough made him bend over, spitting black phlegm.By the time he straightened his back, his energy was quite weak, and he was trembling just looking at it, as if he had forgotten what he was talking about just now. Arren was fascinated to watch him again.The place where the man stood was in the middle of the two statues on either side of the gate.The necks of the two statues slanted against the gable of the building, and only part of the muscular knot protruded from the wall. It seemed as if they had been struggling to get out of the rock and enter the living world, but failed halfway.The hinges of this door they guard are rotten; this house that was a palace is empty.The protruding gloomy face of the big stone statue has been chipped away and covered with moss.The man stood between the two massive statues, shriveled and frail, with eyes like the dark windows of an empty house.He raised his crippled hand to Sparrowhawk, and begged in a low voice: "Give some alms to the poor crippled man, sir..." The mage frowned, both pained and ashamed; Arren felt for a moment that he saw the real face behind the mage's disguise.The mage put his hand on Hal's shoulder again, and whispered a few words in a wizard's language that Arren could not understand. But Hall understood.He held Sparrowhawk tightly with one hand, stuttering, "Can you still talk... talk... come with me, come..." The mage glanced at Arren and nodded. They descended the steep street and entered the valley between the three hills of Holt.The downhill streets passing by became narrower, darker and quieter.The overhanging eaves reduced the sky to a gray band, and the houses on both sides were cold and damp.At the bottom of the valley was a stream that stinks like an uncovered sewer.Between several arch bridges, homes are concentrated along the banks of the stream.In one of the rooms, Hall turned and entered the dark door, and disappeared like a candle suddenly blown out.They followed inside. The unlit steps not only creaked but wobbled when they stepped on them.At the top of the stairs, it was only because Hall pushed open a door that they could see where they were: an empty room with straw mattresses in the corner, and an unpainted plain window that let in some dim light. Hal turned to Sparrowhawk, clutching Sparrowhawk's arm again.His lips were moving, but he hesitated for a long time before saying: "Dragon...Dragon..." Sparrowhawk looked at Hall with stable eyes, but didn't speak. "I can't cast spells anymore." He Er said, let go of Sparrowhawk's arms, crouched on the ground and cried. The mage knelt beside him and spoke softly to him in the Old Tongue.Arren stood by the closed door, one hand on the hilt of his knife.The misty light, the two kneeling figures in the dusty room, the strange voice of the mage whispering in Draconic, all these are like dreams, and have nothing to do with the outside world or the passing time. Hal got up slowly, patted the dust on his knees with one hand, moved the stump behind his back, looked around, looked at Arren: now, at last, he was "seeing".After a while, he turned and went to sit on the straw mattress.Arren still stood, keeping watch; but Sparrowhawk, from his childhood in such a desolate home, sat down on the bare ground with his legs crossed, and said, "Tell me how you lost your art, how you forgot it. the language used." Hall did not reply for a long time.He just kept beating his thighs with severed limbs, and finally forced out the words in his heart: "They cut off my hands, so that I couldn't weave spells. They cut off my hands, and the blood flowed out and dried up." "But that's after you lose your power, Hal, otherwise they wouldn't be able to cut off your hand at all." "strength……" "It is the power to control the wind, the waves, and the people. By calling their names, you can make them obey you." "That's right. I remember that I was alive," the man said in a hoarse voice, "And I also know those languages, those names..." "Are you dead now?" "No, alive, alive. I was once a dragon... I'm not dead. I just fall asleep now and then. Everyone knows that sleep is like death. Everyone knows that the dead walk in dreams and they come alive to seek你，对你说话。他们脱离死域，进入梦境。有条通路可以去。要是你走得够远，还有路可以回来，没问题。只要知道去哪里找，就找得到——要是你愿意付代价。” “付什么代价？”雀鹰的声音飘浮在幽暗的空中，宛如落叶影子。 “生命呀！还会有什么代价。除了用生命，你还能用什么去买生命？”贺尔坐在草褥上前后摇晃，露出狡猾诡诈的目光。“你瞧，”他说：“他们可以砍去我的手，他们可以砍去我的头。无所谓，我能找到回来的路，我晓得到哪里找。有力量的人才可能去那里。” “你是指——巫师？” “对。”贺尔迟疑道，样子好像曾尝试几次，却没办法说出“巫师”两字。“有力量的男人，”他重复道：“而且他们必须——他们必须放弃力量，做为代价。” 说完，他变得不高兴起来，仿佛“代价”两个宇终于引发某些联想，也才使他明白，他这么做只是在提供信息，而不是交易。所以，他们再也无法从贺尔那里获得更多讯息。雀鹰认为“回来的路”特具意义，便暗示着、结巴着想多套点东西出来，贺尔却不肯再说什么。不久，法师放弃，站了起来。“唉，只得一半答案，还不如都没有。”他说：“但是，钱仍照付。”说着，他丢了一锭金子到贺尔面前的褥子上，动作如魔法师般灵巧。 贺尔把金子捡起来，望望金子、望望雀鹰、还有亚刃，甩甩头。“等等。”他咕噜道。然而情势这么一变，害他顿失掌控，只得狼狈苦思原本想讲的话。“今天夜里，”他终于说：“等等……今天夜里。我有迷幻草。” “我不需要迷幻草。” “为了带你……为了带你看路。今天夜里，我带你去，我会带你去看。你能去那里，因为你……你是……”他苦思那个字，雀鹰替他说：“我是巫师。” “对了！所以我们……能……我们能去那里。去那条路。等我做梦的时候，在梦中，懂吗？我会带你，你跟我去，去……去那条路。” 雀鹰在这间阴暗的房内立定深思。“或许吧，”他好久才说：“如果要来，我们天黑以前就会来。”说完，他转身面向亚刃，亚刃马上打开房门，急于离开。 相较于贺尔的房间，那条阴暗潮湿的街道好像花园般明亮。他们抄快捷方式，往城镇上方走。快捷方式是一道陡梯，夹在长着藤蔓的住屋墙壁问。亚刃爬得气喘如牛——“呼！您打算再回去那里吗？” “嗳，我会去的。要是不能从一个比较不冒险的来源获得相同信息，我就要去。但，到时候他可能会设埋伏。” “您不是有做点防卫，防备窃贼之类的伤害吗？” “防卫？”雀鹰说：“你指什么？是不是你认为，我随时用法术包裹着，像老婆婆怕风湿那样吗？我根本没有时间那样做。我隐藏面孔，以便掩饰我们的查访，这就行了。我们可以互相为对方留神提防。但事实上，这趟旅程绝没办法避免危险。” “那当然，”亚刃僵僵说着，因拉不下脸而暗中生怒。“我才没那样期望。” “那就好。”法师说道，虽无转寰余地，但态度和悦，倒也平息了亚刃的怒火。老实说，亚刃为自己的怒意感到震惊，他从没想过这样子对大法师说话。不过，这个人既是大法师、也不是大法师，他是侯鹰，长了狮子鼻、方颊乱须，声音忽儿像这个人、忽儿像那个人，变来变去，是个不可靠的陌生人。 “那男人刚才对你说的事，你听起来有意义吗？”亚刃问道，因为他不希望重回那个在臭溪上方的阴暗房间。“什么……活呀、死呀，回来时被砍了头等等的。” “我不晓得那些话有没有意义，我当时只是想跟一个丧失力量的巫师谈一谈。他说他没有丧失力量，而是把力量交了出去——做为交换。交换什么呢？他说，用生命交换生命，用力量交换力量。不，我不懂他的话，但值得听一听。” 雀鹰沉着推断的理性，让亚刃益感惭愧。他觉得自己像小孩一样使性子，像小孩一样雀躁不安。自从碰到贺尔之后，他就感觉恍惚出神，但现在，那股出神感中断了，变得十分嫌恶，好像吃了什么脏东西。他于是决定，除非等到控制好自己的情绪，否则不再说话。但决定后的下一刻，老旧平滑的阶梯害他没踩好步伐，溜了一下，赶紧靠两手抓住旁边岩石才稳住自己。“噢，诅咒这个龌龊的城镇！”他气得大叫。法师淡然答道：“大概没必要吧。” 霍特镇真的有什么地方不对劲，连空气本身都不对劲，糟到这种地步，恐怕会让人以为它真的受了诅咒。问题是，它的不对劲并非“存在”什么质感，而是“缺乏”什么质感所致——因为所有质感都日益薄弱，变成有如一种疾病，即使到访未几的旅客，也受感染。连午后太阳也沉重燠热得让人不舒服，一点也不像三月天。各广场和街道熙来攘往，一派生意兴隆的样子，但论秩序和繁荣，则一点也谈不上。商品质地差，价格高，窃贼充斥、帮派出没，对小贩和往来买客都不安全。街上少见妇人，若有，也都结伴而行。这是个没有法治的城镇。亚刃与雀鹰同镇民交谈几回下来，已知霍特镇没有议会、镇长或领主。以前治理该镇的人，有的已作古，有的退隐，有的遭暗杀；现在是不同的首领在不同的地区划地称王，港口则由港口卫兵一手管理，中饱私囊；诸多现象不一而足。总之，镇上没有中心，镇民往来奔忙，似乎毫无目的。工人好像普遍缺乏工作意愿；强盗抢劫，因为他们只知这种生存方式。大港市特有的喧嚷与明灿，霍特镇都具备，但只流于表面；城镇边缘有一大堆嚼食迷幻草的人，呆滞不动。这样的表面底下，一切都好像不真实，包括脸孔、声音、气味都一样。那个漫长炎热的下午，雀鹰与亚刃沿街漫步，偶尔与人交谈，一直觉得景物渐渐退隐！包括条纹遮阳篷、肮脏的圆石街道、涂颜色的墙壁。所有鲜活的存在，行将消逝，仅余空泛沉寂的梦幻城市留置于氤氲迷蒙的阳光之中。 接近傍晚时，他们走到城镇最高处略事休息，才稍微打破那种罹病似的白日梦之感。“这不是个招好运的城镇。”好几个时辰以前，雀鹰就这么表示，在这个城里漫无目的步行数小时、与陌生人随意交谈下来，他已显得疲乏而寡情。他的乔装易容稍微败露了：海上商人的方脸上，已可见到几分本有的严峻与黝黑。亚刃一直还无法卸除早上的兴奋躁动之感。他们坐在山顶粗草铺地的潘第可树林荫下，那些树有深绿色叶子和红色花苞，有的已绽放花朵。他们坐在那高处，所见的城镇只是无数屋顶栉比鳞次沿山坡层层降至海湾。开展双臂的海湾在春天雾霭中呈蓝灰色，上接天际，两相交融，无间无际。他们坐观那片无尽的蓝，亚刃心门大敞，迎会并赞美这世界，感觉心清智澄。 他们在附近一条小溪喝水，小溪源头在山后头某大户人家的花园里，溪水清澈地流越土褐色的岩石。亚刃不但大口喝水，还把整个头浸入凉水中，起身时，不由得夸张地朗诵《莫瑞德行谊》中的词句： 虚里丝之泉，银色水琴弦，深赞美兮； 溪水止我渴，吾名永祝颂，恒久远兮。 雀鹰笑他，亚刃也跟着笑，并学小狗用力甩头，灿亮的水珠在最后一抹金色暮光中四散飞溅。 他们得离开树林，再度下坡走回街道。在一个卖油腻鱼饼的摊子吃了晚餐之后，已是夜色笼罩。狭窄街道暗得特别快。“孩子，我们差不多该走了。”雀鹰说。亚刃应道：“回船上？”但他知道雀鹰不是指回船，而是要去那间位在溪河之上，一无陈设、肮脏烦人的小屋。 贺尔正在门口等他们。 他点燃油灯，好让他们看见阶梯。他掌灯时，油灯微细的火焰一直抖动，墙壁投射出巨大阴影。 他已为两位客人多准备一处草堆，但亚刃决定坐在门边没铺草的地板上。这扇门是向外开的，若要守卫，其实应该坐在门外才对，但他无法忍受门外漆黑的穿堂，何况他还想留意着贺尔。雀鹰的注意力——说不定还包括他的巫力——会专注在贺尔告诉他、或带他去看的事情上；所以，保持警觉以防诡诈的责任，都得靠亚刃。 贺尔比早上坐直了些，也不那么发抖，而且洗了嘴巴和牙齿。起初讲话时，虽然仍有点兴奋，但还算清醒。他注视油灯的那双眼睛很黑，看起来像动物的眼睛，不见眼白。他拼命跟雀鹰争论，一直鼓吹雀鹰嚼食迷幻草。“我要带你去，带你和我一起去。我们必须同路，等一下不管你准备好没有，我都要去，所以你得吃点迷幻草，以便跟随我。” “我可以跟随，没问题。” “你到不了我要去的地方。这不是……施法术。”他好像没办法说出“巫师”或“巫艺”两个字。“我晓得你能去到那……那个地方，嗳，就是那道墙。但你要看的东西不在那里，要走另外一条路。” “只要你去了，我就能跟随。” 贺尔摇头，他原本俊秀、而今不复的脸庞，红了一下，并不时瞥瞥亚刃——虽然他只对雀鹰讲话：“你看，世上有两种人，不是吗？我们这种，以及其它人。那些——龙，以及其余的。没有力量的人只是半死半活，他们不算数，他们不清楚自己的梦，他们怕黑。但他们以外那些人中之贵，就不怕进入黑暗。我们有力量。” “只要我们知道事物的名字就不会害怕。” “可是，名字在那边一点也不关紧要——这是要点所在，这是要点所在！你需要的不是『作为』，不是『所知』。法术没有用。你必须忘记全部法术，随它去。迷幻草可以帮点忙，吃了它就会忘记名字，就会放掉事物的形式，直接进入真实。我很快就要去了，要是你想去我所说的那里探看，以便知道该怎么做的话，就留神喽。像我，都遵照他所说的去做。要成为生命的主人之前，必须先成为凡人的主人。你必须去发现其中的奥秘。我虽然能告诉你它的名字，但名字有什么用呢？名字不真实，它不是永恒的真实。连龙都没办法去那里，龙已经死了，全死了。今晚我吃了这么多迷幻草，你一定跟不上我，差太远了。你可以指出我在哪里迷失。记得那个奥秘吗？记得吗？没有死亡，没有死亡。没有！没有汗臭的床铺和腐烂的棺木？没有了，永远不再有了。鲜血如干河床枯涸，而且不见了巾没有惧怕，没有死亡。名字消逝，咒语和恐惧都消逝。指出我可能在哪里迷失，指出来，主人……” 他继续在一种狂喜状态中胡言乱语，听起来像诵念法术，却什么也没有呈现出来：没有魔法、没有完整、也没有意义呈现出来。亚刃听着，听着，努力想理解。要是能理解有多好！雀鹰真该遵照贺尔说的，至少这一回吃点迷幻草，那样他才能发现贺尔所说的那些事情内幕——那个他不愿、或无法讲出来的秘密。不然的话，他们何必跑这一趟？（亚刃看看贺尔狂喜的面孔，再看看另一人的侧面。）法师大概已经明了了——因为他的侧面看起来坚定如岩石。那个狮子鼻呢？那个漠然的表隋呢？海上商人侯鹰不见了，被忘记了。坐在那里的，是法师，大法师。 这时，贺尔的声音转为低声咕哝，并摆动迭腿而坐的上身。他的面孔显得狂野起来，嘴巴松弛张开。他与面前那人的中间地上，放着那盏小油灯，一直没说话的那人，这时伸手握住贺尔的手。但亚刃没看见他伸手。事情的顺序有点不衔接——因为有了“不存在的间隙”出现。想必是昏昏欲睡的关系。肯定已经几个时辰过去了，大概接近午夜了吧。要是他睡着，会不会因而也能跟随贺尔进入他的梦，去到那个“所在”，那个秘密通道？说不定可以呢。现在看起来很有可能。但他得看守大门呀。虽然他和雀鹰事前没怎么商量，但两人都明白，贺尔要他们夜里重回小屋，可能有什么埋伏的不轨计谋。此人当过海盗，晓得强盗行径。他们虽然一点也没提到守卫的事，但亚刃知道他应该负责守卫，因为法师去进行奇特的心灵之旅时，一定毫无防卫。可是为什么自己偏像个傻瓜，把剑留在船上？要是房门突然在后头迸开，他的刀子能有多少用处？不过，那种情况下会发生，因为他可以注意听。贺尔这时已经不讲话了，两人都全然安静，整个房子都安静，要是有人爬上那个摇摇欲坠的阶梯，不可能不弄出一点声音。要是听见什么声音，他可以大喊，届时，恍惚的迷离幻境可以打破，雀鹰会回来，使出“巫师之怒”的复仇闪电，保卫自己和亚刃……亚刃刚才在门边落坐时，雀鹰曾注视他，虽然只是一眼，却是赞赏的一眼——赞赏与信任。他既然负责守卫，那么，只要他继续看守就不会有危险。可是，这个任务真不容易啊，要一直注意那两张脸、注意两人中间地板那盏如豆的灯火。这时，两人都没说话，两人都没移动，眼睛都张开，但没在看灯火，也没看这个脏房间，没看这世界，而是看某个梦幻世界或死亡世界……注意看着他们就好，别妄想跟着去…… 在那个无边枯燥的黑暗中，有个人站着向他招手，并说：来呀。那是魁梧的冥界之主。他手中持握的灯火小如珍珠，他把灯火伸向亚刃，供给生命。亚刃慢慢向他靠近一步，随他走去。