蛛后之战(被遗忘的国度系列英文版)-第68章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


The　rogues　made　their　departure。　With　his　spidery　lower　body；　Tsabrak　had　to　squeeze　through　the　door。　The　last　one　out；　the　bard　gave　Ryld　a　wry　smile　and　a　shrug。　The　door　slammed　shut。
Ryld　licked　the　salty　taste　of　blood　from　his　gashed　lower　lip。
〃Pharaun；〃　he　said　in　a　low　tone。　〃Are　you　truly　unconscious；　or　is　it　a　trick？〃
Slumped　with　the　steel　harness　clamped　around　his　head；　the　Master　of　Sorcere　didn't　respond。　If　not　for　the　rise　and　fall　of　his　chest；　Ryld　would　have　feared　him　dead。
The　swordsman　tried　to　go　to　Pharaun；　but　his　chains　were　too　short。　He　undertook　an　examination　of　the　shackles。　The　cuffs　fit　tightly；　and　the　locks　were　strong。　The　links　were　heavy；　well　fed；　and　anchored　securely　in　the　wall。　Ryld　had　broken　free　of　bonds　a　time　or　two　in　his　turbulent　early　years；　but　without　tools　or　a　miracle；　he　wouldn't　be　sundering　these。
Nor；　denied　the　use　of　his　voice　and　hands；　was　Pharaun　likely　to　fare　any　better。　Still；　Ryld　suspected　the　mage　was　his　only　hope。　Pharaun　was　clever。　Perhaps　he　could　think　of　a　workable　ploy；　if　only　he　was　conscious。
〃　Wake　upr　Ryld　roared。　〃Wake　up；　curse　it。　You've　got　to　get　us　out　of　here〃
To　add　to　the　din；　he　beat　a　length　of　chain　against　the　wall。
To　no　avail。　He　shouted　until　his　throat　was　raw；　but　Pharaun　didn't　stir。
〃Bleed　it〃　the　weapons　master　swore。
He　hunkered　down　on　the　floor　and　tried　to　work　up　some　saliva　to　wash　away　the　dryness　in　his　mouth。　As　the　renegades　hadn't　bothered　to　provide　a　water　jug；　spit　was　the　best　he　could　do。
〃You　have　to　wake　up；〃　he　said　in　a　softer　voice。　〃Otherwise；　they've　beaten　us；　and　we've　never　let　anyone　do　that。　Do　you　remember　when　we　hunted　that　cloaker　lord？　We　found　out　too　late　that　it　had　sixtyseven　other　chasm　rays　in　its　raiding　party；　many　more　than　our　little　band　of　thirdyear　students　was　prepared　to　confront。　But　you　said；　'It's　all　right；　it　just　takes　the　proper　spells　to　even　the　odds。'　First　you　conjured　a　wall　of　fire　。　。　。〃
Ryld　rambled　on　for　hours；　talking　his　throat　raw；　recounting　their　shared　experiences　as　they　occurred　to　him。　Perhaps　the　stories　would　strike　a　spark　in　Pharaun's　unconscious　mind；　and　in　any　case；　it　was　better　than　just　sitting　and　wondering　what　life　would　be　like　after　Syrzan　corrupted　his　mind。
Finally　the　wizard's　chin　jerked　up　off　his　chest。　His　eyes　were　wild；　and　he　tried　to　cry　out。　The　bit　turned　the　sound　into　a　strangled　gurgle　even　as　it　cut　into　the　corners　of　his　mouth。　Beads　of　blood　blossomed　from　the　wounds。
〃It's　all　right；〃　Ryld　said。　〃Whatever　the　lich　did　to　you；　it's　over。〃
Pharaun　took　a　deep　breath　and　let　it　out　slowly。　Rationality　returned　to　his　eyes。　Ryld　got　the　feeling　that　if　not　for　the　harness；　the　wizard　would　have　smiled　his　usual　cheery　smile。　He　nodded　to　the　weapons　master；　thanking　him　for　the　reassurance；　then　he　inspected　the　sheath　constraining　his　hands。　He　bashed　it　on　the　floor　a　few　times　to　see　if　he　could　jolt　the　catches　open。　They　held　with　nary　a　rattle。　He　shook　his　head；　sat　still　for　several　seconds；　then　closed　his　eyes　and　settled　back　against　the　wall；　no　doubt　pondering　their　plight。
After　several　minutes；　the　wizard　straightened　up。　He　started　scraping　the　heel　of　one　boot　against　the　side　of　the　other。
Ryld　felt　a　stir　of　excitement。　He　could　only　assume　his　fellow　master　had　a　talisman　hidden　inside　the　footwear。　It　was　odd　the　wizard　hadn't　remembered　until　then；　but　perhaps　it　was　a　result　of　the　seizure。
Like　all　drow　boots；　Pharaun's　were　high　and　fit　snugly。　By　the　time　it　slid　off　the　mage's　foot；　Ryld　was　avid　with　curiosity　to　see　。　。　。　nothing。　Nothing　but　trews　and　a　stocking。
Pharaun　set　to　work　shoving　off　the　other　boot。　Ryld　wished　he　knew　what　his　friend　had　in　mind；　but　knew　it　would　be　pointless　to　ask。　With　his　hands　concealed；　the　spellcaster　couldn't　answer　even　in　the　silent　drow　sign　language。
Eventually　the　second　boot　slipped　free；　whereupon　Pharaun　pushed　off　his　socks。　His　bare　feet　were　of　a　piece　with　his　hands；　slender　and　long；　the　digits　included。
The　wizard　lifted　his　right　foot；　stared　at　it　intently；　and　started　curling　and　crossing　the　toes。　He　fumbled　through　a　sequence　of　moves；　then　repeated　it。　It　took　Ryld　another　few　moments　to　prehend；　and　he　didn't　know　whether　to　laugh　or　cry。
In　point　of　fact；　the　Underdark　abounded　in　creatures；　Syrzan　included；　whose　extremities　differed　notably　from　a　dark　elf's；　yet　who　worked　magic　nonetheless。　So　maybe　Pharaun　had　a　chance。　Maybe　he　could　cast　one　of　those　spells　that　only　required　movement；　not　an　incantation　or　material　ponents。
But　only　if　he　could　shift　his　feet　and　toes　through　the　proper　patterns；　those　precise　and　intricate　passes　he'd　spent　years　learning　to　execute　with　his　hands。
When　the　toes　of　his　right　foot　grew　tired；　he　started　working　with　those　of　his　left。　After　that；　he　shifted　his　weight　back；　lifted　his　legs；　and　practiced　twining　them　together。　Ryld　might　have　found　it　quite　a　ical　spectacle　had　his　life　not　depended　on　the　mage's　success。
Soon　Pharaun　began　to　sweat　and　occasionally　to　tremble；　which　always　forced　him　to　stop　and　rest　for　a　bit。　After　an　hour；　he　moved　on　to　the　next　phase　of　his　experiment：　putting　the　elements　of　the　spell　together；　moving　everything　at　the　same　time　with　the　proper　sequence　and　timing。
Ryld　watched　the　process　intently。　He　was　no　wizard；　but　to　his　untutored　eye；　it　appeared　that　after　a　while；　Pharaun　was　producing　exactly　the　same　pattern　two　times　out　of　three。　The　rest　he　fumbled　in　one　way　or　another。
Finally；　breathing　hard；　he　looked　at　the　weapons　master　and　shrugged。
〃That's　all　right；〃　the　swordsman　replied。　〃Two　out　of　three　is　good　odds。〃
Pharaun　slumped　back　and　spent　the　next　few　minutes　resting。　When　he　sat　up　and；　heedless　of　the　fresh　blood　that　started　from　the　corners　of　his　mouth；　he　growled　through　the　mask。　He　banged　the　box　encasing　his　hands　twice　against　the　floor；　then　looked　at　Ryld。
〃I　understand；〃　the　warrior　said。　〃Make　noise。　Bring　someone。〃
Pharaun　nodded。　The　cage　around　his　head　clinked。
〃Ho　I'm　a　Master　of　MeleeMagthere。　I　know　secrets　about　the　defenses　of　the　great　Houses；　secrets　you　must　know　for　your　plans　to　succeed。　I'll　trade　them　for　my　freedom〃
He　continued　in　the　same　vein　for　several　minutes；　clashing　his　chains　against　the　wall　for　emphasis。　Meanwhile　Pharaun　lay　motionless；　as　if　he　were　still　unconscious。
Finally；　eyes　appeared　at　the　little　barred　window　in　the　door。
〃What？〃　the　newer　snarled。　It　wasn't　a　voice　Ryld　had　heard　before。
〃I　need　to　talk　to　you；〃　the　weapons　master　said。
〃I　heard；〃　said　the　other　drow。　〃You　have　secrets。　The　alhoon　will　rip　them　out　of　you；　no　bargain　required。〃
〃Syrzan　said　it　would　take　time　to　turn　us　into　mindslaves；〃　Ryld　replied。　〃I　have　information　you　need　before　you　unleash　the　undercreatures。　Their　rebellion　will　do　you　no　good　if　the　weapons　masters　strike　them　all　dead　before　they　even　get　started。〃
〃How　could　the　mastersofarms　do　that？〃　asked　the　rogue。
〃A　secret；〃　said　Ryld；　〃that　we　brothers　of　the　pyramid　teach　to　a　chosen　few。〃
〃I　don't　believe　you。〃
〃We've　been　studying　war　for　millennia。　Do　you　think　we　impart　all　we　know　to　every　young　dullard　who　enrolls　in　the　Academy；　or　is　it　likely　we　hold　greater；　deadlier　mysteries　in　reserve？〃
The　rogue　hesitated。
〃All　right；　tell　me。　If　there's　anything　to　it；　I'll　set　you　free。〃
Ryld　shrugged；　rattling　his　fetters。　They　were　already　rubbing　his　wrists　raw。
〃Shout　it　through　a　closed　door？〃　the　weapons　master　asked。　〃Is　that　what　you　really　want？〃
〃Wait。〃
The　contempt　in　the　prisoner's　tone　had　reminded　the　rogue　of　a　basic　principle。　It　was　best　to　keep　information　to　yourself；　at　least　until　you　figured　out　how　to　reap　a　benefit　from　sharing　it。　This　rogue　didn't　want　anyone　overhearing　what　Ryld　had　to　say。
The　door　clacked　as　a　key　turned　in　the　lock。　It　creaked　open；　and　the　renegade　stepped　through。　He　was　stocky；　with　a　broken　nose　squashed　across　an　angular　face。　He'd　decorated　rather　nondescript　clothing　with　gaudy　ornaments；　including　a　silver　fillet　set　with　garnets。　His　rapier　hung　from　a　baldric；　the　hilt　of　a　dagger　protruded　from　the　top　of　either　boot；　and　a　hand　crossbo