世界之脊第十八章用心合作(页 1) - 文字翻译室 - 龙骑士城堡奇幻论坛奇幻文学,翻译,原创,龙与地下城

jarod 发表于 2006-5-26 09:37

世界之脊第十八章用心合作

第十八章用心合作   “我们的第一批顾客。”莫里克宣称着。他和沃夫加站在一条高高的山脊上俯瞰着进入冰风谷的通道。一个马车队正在沿着小路向着远处的群山缓缓前进，他们的步伐稳固坚定丝毫不乱。   “旅行者还是商人？”沃夫加询问的口气中透露着怀疑。   “商人，还有满车的财富，”盗贼回答，“马车沉重的车辙暴露了他们的身份，而身边缺乏护卫的警卫则明显是在邀请我们的光临。”   商人会在没有一批全副武装的警卫护送下进行这样艰苦的长途跋涉？这对沃夫加来说简直就是愚蠢的行为，但是他并没有质疑莫里克的话。毕竟他还记得自己最后一次离开冰风谷时的旅行，身边只有几个同伴，跟随着一辆商人的马车，没有大批警卫，危机四伏。   “感到很奇怪吗？”莫里克问，他注意到了朋友的表情。   “白痴总会让我感到奇怪。”沃夫加回答。   “他们雇不起警卫，”莫里克解释道，“很少有人愿意护卫别人跑到冰风谷去，而那些愿意去的也经常会选择西边那些安全的道路。这些是小商人，你看，交易的货物量非常少。他们极有可能是想依靠好的运气，或者是碰巧能找到想要搭便车的强力战士，抑或是仅凭一条相对宽阔的山路来通过危险的群山。”   “这样的话看起来我们很容易搞定。”   “很容易的！”莫里克狂热地回答道，“当然了，你会明白的，让我们给这些商旅来个惊喜吧。”但沃夫加的样子还是有些犹豫。   “想想吧，”盗贼提示，“如果我们没有杀掉那些巨人，那么这些商人此刻就很可能会发现有一些巨石正从头顶上落下来，”莫里克解释，“不但他们的发财梦会因此破灭，而且他们的皮都会从骨头上被撕下来，就在巨人们的大煎锅里。”他笑道，“所以不要烦恼，我的大朋友，”盗贼继续说，“我们唯一想要的就是他们的钱，算是我们为了他们的安全而做的这些工作的工钱吧。”   奇怪的是，这些话激起了沃夫加的某些感触。从尊重的角度考虑，这个“工作”同几年前他和崔斯特以及那些伙伴们所做的事很像：帮助旅客们通过野蛮荒芜的地方。不过区别他们从没有索取报酬，而莫里克则很明显想要这么做。   “毫不费力地向他们展示我们的力量对咱们来说可是最简单的工作了，”盗贼解释，“我们只是在为自己的努力要一些小报酬罢了，一些补给品，也许还可以来些金币，然后就让他们继续上路。尽管有两辆马车，但是没有警卫，我们可以完美地从后面上去敲昏他们，精确地控制好时机，如果干得漂亮，连目击者都不会有的。”但当他注意到沃夫加紧皱的眉头后,解释计划后半部分时所露出的微笑消失了。   “那就只收一点小税好了，就一点儿吧。”莫里克妥协道，“那是对我们辛勤工作的最公正的报酬。”   尽管这个建议仍使野蛮人感到忧心忡忡，但他还是点了点头表示了同意。 *****   盗贼选择了小径乱石丛生的一段路，在这里马车将会不得不减慢速度，否则他们就必须冒着损失一只轮子或者一批马的风险。路的左边有一棵小树，这是为沃夫加准备的道具，当他作为攻击的主力上场时就会用得到了——如果真的不得不这么做的话。   莫里克等在路边视野清晰的地方，而马车则越驶越近。   “欢迎！”他叫喊着步向道路中央，双臂举得高高的。但是下一瞬间莫里克立刻缓下了脚步，因为他看到车夫座位旁边的那个男子正举着一把不算小的十字弩。不过这样一来，盗贼也没有办法退得很远，因为他不得不令马车在适当的距离外就停下来。   “从路上让开，否则我就射你的头了！”那个弩手喊道。   作为回答，莫里克探手将一颗巨大的头颅——一个被杀巨人的脑袋——拎到了空中。“我想那样可不是明智的做法，”他答道，“不管是精神上还是肉体上。”   马车跳了一下，停住了，同时也迫使后面的一辆停了下来。   莫里克吃力地扭动着他的膝盖，用脚将第二颗巨人头颅从一块岩石后拨弄出来：“我很高兴地通知您，现在这条路前面是干干净净的了。”   “那么就从我的路上滚开吧，”第一辆马车的车夫回答道，“或者让他把你射倒在地，然后我的车辙就会清楚地印在你的脸上。”   莫里克吃吃笑着，将方才自己放在路边的大布袋挪了过来，露出第三颗巨人的脑袋。尽管那些家伙还在虚张声势，但他发现，对于这些头颅展览物的目击已经起到了更甚一筹的作用，给他们留下了深刻印象——以及恐惧。不管是谁，如果能够干掉三个巨人，那他肯定不是很好对付的。   “我和我的朋友们可是花了整整一星期的时间来清理这条道路的。”莫里克解释道。   “朋友们？”   “你认为这些都是我一个人干的？”莫里克露出一道笑容，“你真是抬举我了。不，我有很多朋友帮忙的。”莫里克说着向身后怪石嶙峋的方向投去一道装模作样的凝视，仿佛在对那些数不尽的“朋友”表示感谢。“你最好能忘了他们，因为他们很害羞的。”   “继续前进！”马车里传出命令的喊声，而车夫位置上的两个人则还在面面相觑。   “你的那些朋友就像盗贼般躲在那里，”车夫冲着莫里克喊道，“让开路！”   “盗贼？”莫里克用怀疑的口吻重复着，“要不是我们，你早就在巨人的大石头下变成一张肉饼，死翘翘了。”   马车门吱的一声打了开来，一个年纪较大的人一只脚留在车里，一只脚踏在车板上斜靠着站在那里。“你这是在为你的工作向我们勒索报酬啊。”他说道，很明显这个人对此类的规矩十分清楚（就像费伦北地的绝大部分商人一样）。   “勒索这个词可真让人讨厌。”莫里克回答。   “就像你的名字一样让人讨厌，小贼。”那个商人回敬道。   莫里克威胁地眯起了眼睛，有别有用心地撇了一眼那三颗巨人头颅。   “那么好吧，”那商人勉强让步，“您英勇行为的价格是多少呢？”   “我们需要一些补给，以便继续维护我们自己的生计以及这条道路的安全。”莫里克煞有其事地解释道，“然后可能的话，再来一些金币，作为我们努力工作的报酬。”这下子轮到这个商人的脸色阴转多云了，“当然也用于补偿那些在这次对巨人部族的围剿中牺牲掉丈夫的寡妇们。”莫里克临时补充了一句。   “我很难把三个巨人理解成为一个部族，”商人干巴巴地回答，“但是我不会还价了。我为你和你躲在那里的朋友们提供一顿美餐，并且如果你同意护送我们去路斯坎的话，我就给你们一天一个金币作为报酬。”商人补充道，同时为自己的慷慨感到骄傲，当然还有自己的随机应变——现在形式已经转变得对他有利了。   莫里克的目光在眯缝的双眼中盘算着这脆弱的建议，“我们现在一点都不想去路斯坎。”   “那么带上你的美餐，并祝你愉快。”对方简略地作出了回答。   “白痴。”莫里克低语地骂了一句。接着他以很大的声音驳回了商人提供的价码，“我们所能接受的是不少于五十个的金币以及为七个人准备的三顿的食物。”   商人笑了起来。“你应该感谢我们让你留着小命回家去。”他说道，同时猛地打了个响指，有一对保镖立刻从第二辆车上跳了下来，拔出了短剑。头辆马车的车夫也握紧缰绳做好了准备。   “现在，给我消失！”他结束了对话，消失在了马车里。“撞过去。”这是给车夫的命令。   “白痴！”莫里克尖叫一声，这是给沃夫加的暗号。   车夫在犹豫不决，这使得他浪费了宝贵的时间。悬挂在一条绳索末端的沃夫加从左手边岩壁上的隐蔽处突然出现，如同一个巨大的摆锤飞扑而来，同时还不忘发出一声令人恐惧的怒吼。那名弩手旋转身体试图开火，他做到了，但是准头却已经差了十万八千里。沃夫加像一枚全速射来的炮弹，放开手中绳索的同时张开了自己充满肌肉的双臂，双双扫中了座位上的弩手和车夫，野蛮人着陆的时候两个家伙已经摔倒下马车滚成一堆。接着他起身的时候顺便一记手肘正中地上车夫的脸颊。之后一个转身，沃夫加的拳头砰地迎上了弩手的下颚，那一瞬间的手感很确定地告诉了他：鲜血飞溅的同时那个人的下巴已经碎了。   三个从尾随马车上下来的剑士冲了上来，两名出现在头辆马车左边，一名在右。莫里克迎向右边的敌人，手中是一把细长苗条的细身剑，而匕首就像变魔术一样无声无息地出现在另一只手中，在那个剑士冲向沃夫加之前便将他拦截了下来。   那名男子冲着盗贼来了个简单有效的刺击。莫里克的细剑害怕似的避开对方强有力的剑锋，但是实际却是进行了旋转牵引，将刺击化解于无形。他向前踏进，在敌人的剑身上转动着匕首，消除了来自这件武器的一切威胁，与此同时，另一只手中的细剑则在精确的计算之下发出了它的第一次戳刺攻击，一头迎向剑士的咽喉。盗贼可以就此杀了他，或者说是曾经可以就此杀了他，因为莫里克的胳膊突然停止了动作，仿佛刚才他是在将剑全力刺向坚硬的岩石一样。   “你在干什么？”他向沃夫加吼道，而野蛮人此时正大步上前挥拳猛击那个警卫，这使得他的耳朵差点被莫里克的剑和匕首削掉。剑士抬起他那自由的一只手试图挡格，但是沃夫加的重拳轻而易举地穿透了他的防御，将自己的拳头连同那人的前臂一同轰在了他的脸上，将他打得飞了出去。但是，这样的胜利只是短暂存在的。   尽管挨了沃夫加的一记重肘，但那个车夫还是努力站了起来拔出了武器。更糟的是，另外两名剑手已经占领了优势位置，一名站在驾驶座上，另外一个在马车前。而这还不是最遭的，那个商人从车内冲了出来，手中还握着一根魔杖。   “现在我们变成白痴了！”莫里克一边狼狈躲避着马车座上剑士的攻击一边冲沃夫加喊道。从对手颇有章法的削砍戳刺中莫里克可以看出，这个家伙可不是刚刚参加战斗的新手。   沃夫加冲向商人。突然他发现自己向后飞了出去，他的头发末端狂舞一般竖了起来，心脏像野马一样狂跳不止。   “好了，现在我们终于知道这把魔杖的作用效果了，”莫里克在闪过一次攻击后品论道，“我讨厌巫师。”   他冲向地面上的剑手，但对方用一次灵巧的旋转防御了他最初认为是必中的杀招，这使得盗贼几乎失去平衡。“快回来这里！”莫里克对沃夫加喊道，随后他猛蹲下来，手中的剑疯狂地戳向车上的那名敌人，那家伙正盘踞在车顶寻找着机会试图刺穿他的脑袋。   车夫攻向了沃夫加，同时他刚刚击倒的那名警卫也上来继续动手，野蛮人快速地探手从背后拔出那把从巨人山洞中拣来的锤子。他开始准备面对车夫的冲锋，但是却又突然停了下来，调转手腕的方向，将锤子旋转着扔向了商人，因为他已经不想再挨一次闪电箭了。   战锤全力击中了目标，但是不是商人，而是马车门，车门猛地弹起撞上了魔杖主人伸展出来的手臂，此时他正准备释放第二波攻击。商人最终还是挥出了魔杖，但是这一次咝咝作响的闪电却错误地击中了另一个正冲向沃夫加的警卫。   “全体冲锋！”莫里克喊道，他的目光正投向左边的乱石堆。一瞬间，这个动作很好地转移了敌人们的注意力。当他们回过神来的时候，发现盗贼已经飞也似的逃掉了——当生死攸关之时，莫里克的确是一个动作迅速的逃跑者。   车夫正陷入犹豫不决之中，他已经被沃夫加的力量震慑了。但是另外那个剑手则选择继续冲向目标，直到野蛮人转过身猛跳向他并发出一声怒吼，才惊惶失措地停了下来。沃夫加几乎是在突然间转换方向，逼向背后的车夫，以连自己都不敢相信的敏捷抓住了这个惊恐之中的人。他忍受着胳膊上来自猎物手中武器针扎一般的刺砍，向对待一根树干般的将他拖了过来。沃夫加弯下腰，用另一只空闲的手夹住车夫的腰带，将这个正连撕带打的白痴高举过头顶。随着野蛮人腰部的旋转，车夫像一块石头般被扔了出去，重重地砸在了他那个正打算继续冲上前来的同伴身上。   沃夫加停下了动作，他注意到莫里克正在全力飞掠逃窜。对于这次战斗的结果来说，这是一个合情合理的选择，但是野蛮人的热血沸腾了起来，他转过身重新面对马车和两个剑手，与此同时，另一道闪电也重锤般击中了他。于是，靠着一双长腿，沃夫加迅速地超过了莫里克五十码，向着岩石山顶爬去。   第四记魔法箭在两人不远处爆炸开来，被击中的石块都裂开了。   随后而至的是一支嗖嗖作响的十字弩箭，伴随着山下的辱骂和威胁，但是并没有追击，很快，两人便跑到了山崖上很高的安全之处。当他们敢上气不接下气地停下来时，沃夫加看着外衣上的两个伤口，摇了摇头。   “要是你当时按照计划在放到车夫和弩手后直接去攻击那个商人，我们早就成功了。”莫里克责备道。   “对，然后你就会切断那个男人的喉咙，不是吗？”沃夫加反唇相讥。   莫里克对他这句反话嗤之以鼻：“什么？如果你这么不重视自己的生命，那么我们为什么还要跑到这里来？”   “那是因为你，是你选择了被当作路斯坎的杀人犯这条路，而不是我。”沃夫加提醒道，两人冰冷的目光遭遇到了一起。莫里克把手移向他的武器，他猜测这个大个子或许正想要攻击他。   实际上沃夫加的确正想这么做来着。   他们俩是分开独自回到洞穴的。莫里克抢先钻了进去。于是沃夫加改变主意选择待在了外面，他步向附近的一条小溪，在那里可以更好地处理自己的那些伤口。他发现胸口的伤并不是很严重，只是头发因为那道小闪电而烧焦了一些。但是，肩膀的旧伤却重新被严重地撕裂了开来。此时仅凭外衣上的痕迹，野蛮人就已经能明白自己到底流了多少血了。   几个小时后，莫里克出来找他了，两人坐在了一块大岩石上。盗贼用手肘轻轻推了推野蛮人。“我们目前的确生活拮据，”他评论道，同时举起了手中的一对酒瓶，“但是我们还活着，而这就可以称为庆祝的原因了。”   “我们需要原因吗？”沃夫加回答道，但是脸上不带一丝微笑，随后他转过身背对着这个同伴。   “第一次战斗总是会有损失的。”莫里克掌握火候地解释道，“我们必须习惯彼此的攻击方式，这是唯一的解决方法。”   沃夫加以他自己的经验思索着这个建议，回忆起同崔斯特合作的第一次实战。确实，不止一次，他低扔出的艾吉斯之牙差之毫厘就要击中卓尔乌木般的皮肤了，但是他同崔斯特之间就像是存在着一种共生的关系，一种心心相印使得他们共享着同一种战斗程序。他能说自己和莫里克也能做到这种程度吗？他能够做到吗？   沃夫加的目光重新投向盗贼，这个家伙正微笑着冲他举着酒瓶子。是的，他必须同莫里克形成配合。他们的战斗必须要变成同心同德。或许仅这一点就即将成为沃夫加目前最大的麻烦了。   “过去的就不再存在了，而未来的还没有存在，”莫里克朗诵般说道，“所以，生活在现实里吧，享受它，我的朋友。享受这每一刻吧。”   沃夫加的脑子思考着这些话，这是那些日复一日生活在路斯坎街道上的人们所使用的一句通用咒语。他举起了酒瓶。

jarod 发表于 2006-5-26 09:42

原文 Chapter 18 THE HEART FOR IT "Our first customers," Morik announced. He and Wulfgar stood on a high ridge overlooking the pass into Icewind Dale. A pair of wagons rolled down the trail, headed for the break in the mountains, their pace steady but not frantic. "Travelers or merchants?" Wulfgar asked, unconvinced. "Merchants, and with wealth aboard," the rogue replied. "Their pace reveals them, and their lack of flanking guardsmen invites our presence." It seemed foolish to Wulfgar that merchants would make such a dangerous trek as this without a heavy escort of soldiers, but he didn't doubt Morik's words. On his own last journey from the dale beside his former friends, they had come upon a single merchant wagon, riding alone and vulnerable. "Surprised?" Morik asked, noting his expression. "Idiots always surprise me," Wulfgar replied. "They cannot afford the guards," Morik explained. "Few who make the run to Icewind Dale can, and those who can usually take the safer, western pass. These are minor merchants, you see, trading pittances. Mostly they rely on good fortune, either in finding able warriors looking for a ride or an open trail to get them through." "This seems too easy." "It is easy!" Morik replied enthusiastically. "You understand, of course, that we are doing this caravan a favor." Wulfgar didn't appear convinced of that. "Think of it," prompted the rogue. "Had we not killed the giants, these merchants would likely have found boulders raining down on them," Morik explained. "Not only would they be stripped of their wealth, but their skin would be stripped from their bones in a giant's cooking pot." He grinned. "So do not fret, my large friend," he went on. "All we want is their money, fair payment for the work we have done for them." Strangely, it made a bit of sense to Wulfgar. In that respect, the work to which Morik referred was no different than Wulfgar had been doing for many years with Drizzt and the others, the work of bringing justice to a wild land. The difference was that never before had he asked for payment, as Morik was obviously thinking to do now. "Our easiest course would be to show them our power without engaging," the rogue explained. "Demand a tithe in payment for our efforts, some supplies and a perhaps a bit of gold, then let them go on their way. With only two wagons, though, and no other guards evident, we might be able to just knock them off completely, a fine haul, if done right, with no witnesses." His smile as he explained that latter course disappeared when he noted Wulfgar's frown. "A tithe then, no more," Morik compromised. "Rightful payment for our work on the road." Even that sat badly with the barbarian, but he nodded his head in agreement. ***** He picked a section of trail littered with rocks where the wagons would have to slow considerably or risk losing a wheel or a horse. A single tree on the left side of the trail provided Wulfgar with the prop he would need to carry out his part of the attack, if it came to that. Morik waited in clear view along the trail as the pair of wagons came bouncing along. "Greetings!" he called, moving to the center of the trail, his arms held high. Morik shrank back just a bit, seeing the man on the bench seat beside the driver lifting a rather large crossbow his way. Still, he couldn't back up too much, for he had to get the wagon to stop on the appropriate mark. "Out o' the road, or I'll shoot ye dead!" the crossbowman yelled. In response, Morik reached down and lifted a huge head, the head of a slain giant, into the air. "That would be ill-advised," he replied, "both morally and physically." The wagon bounced to a stop, forcing the one behind it to stop as well. Morik used his foot, nearly straining his knee in the process, to move a second severed giant head out from behind a rock "I am happy to inform you that the trail ahead is now clear." "Then get outta me way," the driver of the first wagon replied, "or he'll shoot ye down, and I'll run ye into ruts." Morik chuckled and moved aside the pack he had lain on the trail, revealing the third giant head. Despite their bravado, he saw that those witnessing the spectacle of the heads were more than a little impressed-and afraid. Any man who could defeat three giants was not one to take lightly. "My friends and I have worked hard all the week to clear the trail," Morik explained. "Friends?" "You think I did this alone?" Morik said with a laugh. "You flatter me. No, I had the help of many friends." Morik cast his gaze about the rocky outcroppings of the pass as if acknowledging his countless "friends." "You must forgive them, for they are shy." "Ride on!" came a cry from inside the wagon, and the two men on the bench seat looked at each other. "Yer friends hide like thieves," the driver yelled at Morik. "Clear the way!" "Thieves?" Morik echoed incredulously. "You would be dead already, squashed flat under a giant's boulder, were it not for us." The wagon door creaked open and an older man leaned out standing with one foot inside and the other on the running board. "You're demanding payment for your actions," he remarked, obviously knowing this routine all too well (as did most merchants of the northern stretches of Faerun). "Demand is such a nasty word," Morik replied. "Nasty as your game, little thief," the merchant replied. Morik narrowed his eyes threateningly and glanced pointedly down at the three giant heads. "Very well, then," the merchant conceded. "What is the price of your heroism?" "We need supplies that we might maintain our vigil and keep the pass safe," Morik explained reasonably. "And a bit of gold, perhaps, as a reward for our efforts." It was the merchant's turn to scowl. "To pay the widows of those who did not survive our raid on the giant clan," Morik improvised. "I'd hardly call three a clan," the merchant replied dryly, "but I'll not diminish your efforts. I offer you and your hiding friends a fine meal, and if you agree to accompany us to Luskan as guards, I will pay each of you a gold piece a day," the merchant added, proud of his largesse and obviously pleased with himself for having turned the situation to his advantage. Morik's eyes narrowed at the weak offer. "We have no desire to return to Luskan at this time." "Then take your meal and be happy with that," came the curt response. "Idiot," Morik remarked under his breath. Aloud he countered the merchant's offer. "We will accept no less than fifty gold pieces and enough food for three fine meals for seven men." The merchant laughed. "You will accept our willingness to let you walk away with your life," he said. He snapped his fingers, and a pair of men leaped from the second wagon, swords drawn. The driver of that wagon drew his as well. "Now be gone!" he finished, and he disappeared back into the coach. "Run him down," he cried to his driver. "Idiots!" Morik screamed, the cue for Wulfgar. The driver hesitated, and that cost him. Holding the end of a strong rope, Wulfgar leaped from his concealment along the lefthand rock wall and swooped in a pendulum arc with a bloodcurdling howl. The crossbowman spun and fired but missed badly. Wulfgar barreled in at full speed, letting go of the rope and swinging his mighty arms out wide to sweep both crossbowman and driver from the bench, landing atop them in a pile on the far side. An elbow to the face laid the driver low. Reversing his swing, Wulfgar slammed the crossbowman on the jaw, surely breaking it as blood gushed forth. The three swordsmen from the trailing wagon came on, two to the left of the first wagon, the third going to the right. Morik went right, a long and slender sword in one hand, a dagger in the other, intercepting the man before he could get to Wulfgar. The man came at the rogue in a straightforward manner. Morik put his sword out beside the thrusting blade but rolled it about, disengaging. He stepped ahead, looping his dagger over the man's sword and pulling it harmlessly aside while he countered with a thrust of his own sword, heading for the man's throat. He had him dead, or would have, except that Morik's arm was stopped as surely as if he were trying to poke his sword through solid stone. "What are you doing?" he demanded of Wulfgar as the barbarian stepped up and slugged the guard, nearly losing his ear to the thrashing sword and dagger. The man got his free hand up to block, but Wulfgar's heavy punch went right through the defense, planting his fist and the man's own forearm into his face and launching him away. But it was a short-lived victory. Though staggered by Wulfgar's elbow, the driver was up again with blade in hand. Worse still, the other two swordsmen had found strong positions, one atop the bench, the other in front of the wagon. If that weren't bad enough, the merchant burst from the door, a wand in hand. "Now we are the idiots!" Morik yelled to Wulfgar, cursing and spinning out from the attack of the swordsman on the bench. From the man's one thrust-and-cut routine, Morik could tell that this one was no novice to battle. Wulfgar went for the merchant. Suddenly he was flying backward, his hair dancing on end, his heart palpitating wildly. "So that's what the wand does," Morik remarked after the flash. "I hate wizards." He went at the swordsman on the ground, who defeated his initial attempt at a quick kill with a circular parry that almost had the rogue overbalancing. "Do hurry back!" Morik called to Wulfgar, then he ducked and thrust his sword up frantically as the swordsman from the bench leaped atop the horse team and stabbed at his head. The driver came at Wulfgar, as did the man he had just slugged, and the barbarian worked fast to get the hammer off his back. He started to meet the driver's charge but stopped fast and reversed his grip and direction, spinning the hammer the merchant's way instead, having no desire to absorb another lightning bolt. The hammer hit the mark perfectly, not on the merchant, but against the coach door, slamming it on the man's extended arm just as he was about to loose yet another blast. Fire he did, though, a sizzling bolt that just missed the other man rushing Wulfgar. "All charge!" Morik called, looking back to the rocky cliff on the left. The bluff turned his opponents' heads for just an instant. When they turned back, they found the rogue in full flight, and Morik was a fast runner indeed when his life was on the line. The driver came in hesitantly, respectful of Wulfgar's strength. The other man, though, charged right in, until the barbarian turned toward him with a leap and a great bellow. Wulfgar reversed direction almost immediately, going back for the driver, catching the man by surprise with his uncanny agility. He accepted a stinging cut along the arm in exchange for grabbing the man's weapon hand. Pulling him close with a great tug, Wulfgar bent low, clamped his free hand on the man's belt, and hoisted the flailing fool high over his head. A turn and a throw sent the driver hard into his charging companion. Wulfgar paused, to note Morik skittering by in full flight. A reasonable choice, given the course of the battle, but the barbarian's blood was up, and he turned back to the wagons and the two swordsmen, just in time to get hammered by another lightning stroke. With his long legs, Wulfgar passed Morik within fifty yards up the rocky climb. Another bolt slammed in near to the pair, splintering rocks. A crossbow quarrel followed soon after, accompanied by taunts and threats, but there came no pursuit, and soon the pair were running up high along the cliffs. When they dared to stop and catch their breath, Wulfgar looked down at the two scars on his tunic, shaking his head. "We would have won if you had gone straight for the merchant after your sweep of the driver and crossbowman as planned," Morik scolded. "And you would have cut out that man's throat," charged Wulfgar. Morik scowled. "What of it? If you've not the heart for this life, then why are we out here?" "Because you chose to deal with murderers in Luskan," Wulfgar reminded him, and they shared icy stares. Morik put his hand on his blade, thinking that the big man might attack him. Wulfgar thought about doing just that. They walked back to the cave separately. Morik beat him there and started in. Wulfgar changed his mind and stayed outside, moving to a small stream nearby where he could better tend his wounds. He found that his chest wasn't badly scarred, just the hair burned away from what was a minor lightning strike. However, his shoulder wound had reopened rather seriously. Only then, with his heavy tunic off, did the barbarian understand how much blood he had lost. Morik found him out there several hours later, passed out on a flat rock. He roused the barbarian with a nudge. "We did not fare well," the rogue remarked, holding up a pair of bottles, "but we are alive, and that is cause for celebration." "We need cause?" Wulfgar replied, not smiling, and he turned away. "First attacks are always disastrous," Morik explained reasonably. "We must become accustomed to each other's fighting style, is all." Wulfgar considered the words in light of his own experience, in light of the first true battle he and Drizzt had seen together. True, at one point, he had almost clobbered the drow with a low throw of Aegis-fang, but from the start there had been a symbiosis with Drizzt, a joining of heart that had brought them to a joining of battle routines. Could he say the same with Morik? Would he ever be able to? Wulfgar looked back at the rogue, who was smiling and holding out the bottles of potent liquor. Yes, he would come to terms with Morik. They would become of like heart and soul. Perhaps that was what bothered Wulfgar most of all. "The past no longer exists, and the future does not yet exist," Morik reasoned. "So live in the present and enjoy it, my friend. Enjoy every moment." Wulfgar considered the words, a common mantra for many of those living day-to-day on the streets. He took the bottle.

基拉发表于 2006-5-26 10:31

欢迎回家 <img src='http://www.cndkc.net/bbs_en/html/emoticons/biggrin.gif' border='0' style='vertical-align:middle' alt='biggrin.gif' />

diabloo 发表于 2006-5-26 13:01

世界之脊应该在剑之海之前吧？ 在无声之刃之前，还是之后呢？

基拉发表于 2006-5-26 23:52

无声之刃，世界之脊，魔晶仆从，剑之海

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龙骑士城堡奇幻论坛's Archiver

世界之脊 第十八章 用心合作

世界之脊第十八章用心合作