竖琴手同盟：焦灼之海 第一章[下]
Finally dusk faded to night. The camels were tied up, the children called to their parent's tents, the noisy birds drawn to the hunt, and the bats lured away to distant clouds of insects. The desert again grew as quiet as it had been during the day. In camp, the men plucked their reba-bas and sang stories to amuse each other. The women, as always, were more silent than gazelles, but Ruha did not need to hear to know they were serving hot salted coffee to the men.
After allowing the camp to settle into the comfort of darkness, the young wife tied her belt around her waist, slipping her jambiya into an empty scabbard. The curved, double-edged dagger was Ruha's prized possession, for Qoha'dar had given it to her on her twelfth birthday. Next, she wrapped herself in a billowing, black robe that would camouflage her in the darkness. It would also keep her warm, for the desert was as cold at night as it was hot dur¬ing the day.
Ruha started to leave the khreima, then realized she had forgotten Ajaman's meal. She returned and put a skin of camel's milk into a kuerabiche, then filled the rest of the shoulder sack with wild apricots. Carrying supper to her husband would hardly have seemed a valid reason for visit¬ing his post if she forgot the food.
The young wife returned to the door and paused to study the camp. A hundred feet ahead, the full moon glistened off the oasis pond. As a steady breeze rippled the water, the tiny waves sparkled like white diamonds. The tangled branches of wild apricot trees ringed the pool, perfuming the air with the scent of ripe fruit. Above the apricot trees towered thirty majestic palms, their fernlike fronds splayed like open fingers against the starry sky.
Scattered amongst the trees were the silhouettes of nearly one-hundred khreimas. Robe-clad figures moved among the tents like specters. Outside the doors, men sat in small groups, singing and drinking salted coffee, yet si¬multaneously listening for the distant blare of an alarm horn.
With a bright moon overhead, there were precious few shadows in which to hide. Fortunately, there was wind enough to cast an illusion if need be, so Ruha felt confident of reaching Ajaman undetected. She slipped out of the doorway, then cast a sand-whisper spell that allowed her to move across the desert in complete silence. She circled to the back of her khreima, careful to stay downwind of camp lest a camel or dog catch her scent:
A few moments later, she left the oasis. The trees gave way to spindly chenopods spaced at such even intervals it almost looked as if men had panted them. Beyond the low¬lying bushes, the terrain became completely desolate. Without tree or chenopod roots to hold the soil in place, the wind shaped the sand into an endless sea of towering cres¬cent dunes that stretched to the horizon and beyond.
Ruha knew that the sand sea spanned more than twenty-¬five thousand square miles. When the dunes finally waned, they abdicated only to a land of baked earth and wind¬scoured bedrock, even more desolate and lifeless than the sands themselves. This bleak expanse stretched, as far as Ruha knew, to the ends of the world itself.
Of course, she had heard stories of a kingdom beyond the desert, but she had also heard tales of lands beneath the sands and beyond the clouds. To Ruha, who had met only three tribes in a year of riding across the most heavily populated part of Anauroch, tales of ten-thousand people living in a camp that never moved were unthinkable.. She could not envision a pasture that would support all of their camels month after month.
As Ruha stalked toward the dunes, the biting odor of the chenopods stung her nose more sharply, drawing her thoughts back to the desert. She returned her attention to the sand sea.
The moon shone brightly on the gentle slopes of the dunes' convex sides, but the steep slip-fxes on the con¬cave sides were plunged into darkness as black as Ruha's robe. Between the crescent-shaped hills ran a gloomy labyrinth of barren and rocky troughs.
A mile away, El Ma'ra rose a hundred feet over the sands. Ruha knew that Ajaman lay on top of the one-¬hundred foot pillars, his eyes scouring the shadowy desert for raiders from rival tribes. Several hundred yards to ei¬ther side of the high rock, more sentries would be crouch¬ing on the dark sides of the highest dune crests. Ruha paused to cast a sand-shadow spell on herself. The spell would render her invisible as long as she was in any shadow. To avoid Ajaman's fellow sentries, all she would have to do was stay on the unlit sides of the dunes: She only hoped that her husband had left the rope dangling on the dark side of the pillar.
As Ruha studied the desolate scene ahead, a cold sense of dread settled over her. It might have been the night's cooling air that sent a shiver down her spine, or it might have been the steady drone of the desert wind. The young wife did not know the reason. She only knew that she wanted to be with her husband.
Ruha slipped into the trough at the base of the first dune. Even taking care to stay in the shadows, the young woman made good progress. Before long, she had traveled half a mile into the barren labyrinth between the hills of sand.
A distant boom sounded to the south. In the desert, such noises were not uncommon. Sometimes they were caused by faraway thunder, sometimes by a thousand tons of sand sloughing down the slip-face of a high dune. The supersti¬tious Bedine even attributed the roars to the knelling alarms of long-buried fortresses. All those sounds were rumbles, though. Ruha had heard something more like a sharp crack. It had not been a natural noise, and the young wife's anxiety gave way to panic.
The shrill whine of an amarat horn rang from the post south of Ajaman's. Ruha glanced at the top of the sand¬stone pillar. Her husband's silhouette rose, then faced south.
Discarding her shoulder bag, Ruba slipped her jambiya from its scabbard: She stated for EI Ma'ra at the best pace her heavy robe allowed. The bride felt certain the amarat alarm was related to her vision. No raiding party would have made the sharp sound that bad preceded the siren. Even if a Bedine raider could have created such a noise, he would not have given his enemy time to prepare by an¬nouncing his arrival.
Ruha was within one hundred yards of the high rock when she heard the sonorous tones of Ajaman's amarat. She looked up in time to see him drop his horn, then nock an arrow and loose it at something near the base of the pillar.
As she watched her husband attack, Ruha felt guilty for her panic. Ajaman was a Bedine warrior who had grown to, manhood in the desert. He had honed his prowess by raid¬ing other tribes and by defending his own camels against those who came to steal from his herds. Doubting Ins abil¬ity to defend himself almost seemed a violation of wifely duty.
Ajaman nocked a second arrow and fired again. Ruha stopped running, realizing that her presence would only disturb her husband. From the sands just beyond EI Ma'ra, a brilliant Bash erupted and shot toward the top of the pillar, momentarily binding the young wife. A thunderous clap crashed over the dunes, nearly sweeping her off her feet.
Ruha's vision cleared just as Ajaman's limp body tumbled off El Ma'ra. It landed in the sand at the base of the pillar, then lay motionless in the moonlight.
"Ajaman!" Ruha gasped. For a long moment she stood motionless, knowing she had been right to fear for her hus¬band. Ajaman had fallen not to a raider's arrow, but to something no Bedine could shoot from his bow a bolt of light.
Ruha shook her head and rushed toward her husband, her mind functioning on two tracks at once. Ruha longed to take Ajaman in her arms, to hear him speak her name. Ra¬tionally, she knew this would do no good, for if the flash had not killed him, the hundred-foot fall certainly had. Still, she could not-would not-believe it until she kissed his lifeless lips.
At the same time, Ruha realized the Qahtan were under attack, and not by another khowwan. She felt sure that the blinding flash that had killed Ajaman was magical, for she had once seen Qoha'dar destroy a mad jackal with a similar bolt. Even if he felt compelled to assault another tribe so openly, a Bedine tribesman would never have cast such a magic bolt. His fear of sorcery would not allow it.
It was this line of thought that made Ruha pause before stepping out of the last trough. The hesitation saved her life. She stopped just in time to see a gruesome creature scramble up the dune upon which Ajaman lay.
Ruha had never seen anything like it. Though the thing could obviously walk on two legs, it scurried up the moonlit slope on all fours, moving as swiftly as a snake. The beast was shaped like a lizard, with sinewy arms and legs that protruded from its body at right angles and moved with quick, ungainly gestures. Its narrow skull had a sloping forehead that ended in a protruding brow, and sat atop a thin, awkward neck that swung from side to side as it clawed at the sand. Despite its brutish appearance, the thing was clearly intelligent. It carried a sword, had a crude crossbow slung across its back, and wore a faded leather corset.
When it reached Ajaman, the creature extended a long, forked tongue and touched the body in several places. Af¬ter inspecting the dead man in this manner for several mo¬ments, the thing glanced toward the far side of the high rock, then waved a clawed hand. A moment later, several more of the beasts scurried into view.
After seeing the ugly creature touch her dead husband, a weighty sorrow settled over Ruha. Realizing that she could do nothing more for Ajaman, the young widow retreated the way she had come. She had spent enough time in the desert to know that, even with her sand-shadow spell, she would be easy to spy if she ran. Ruha did not even consider fleeing ahead of the creatures. Instead, she took shelter in the shadows of the nearest sand dune's slip-face. She leaned back against the steep slope and pulled a layer of sand over her body, leaving only her dark eyes exposed. The sand could do nothing more than her sand-shadow spell to hide her visually, but she hoped that it would help to mask her scent.
Clutching her jambiya tightly. Ruha. focused her thoughts on calming her pulse and breathing evenly She did not even consider trying to return to the Qahtani camp, for she knew she would eventually be discovered if she started moving. Besides, she had no doubt that the warriors had heard the amarat warnings and were even now preparing for combat.
A moment later, the first creature stepped into the trough in front of Ruha, crossbow cocked and ready to fire. It paused to study the terrain, looking directly at Ruha's hiding place. The young widow summoned a wind-lion spell to mind, hoping she would not have to give away her pres¬ence by using it.
After several seconds of indecisive scrutiny, the hard thing finally flicked its tongue and moved on. Ruha let a silent sigh of relief escape, then remained absolutely mo¬tionless as a river of similar creatures flowed past. They poured through the trough ahead of her without any pre¬tension of organization. Several times, the beasts passed so close that Ruha could see their yellow, egg-shaped eyes. One even stopped to flick its tongue at the sand next to her. The thing had slit pupils that sat horizontally in the iris. Its skin was rough and pebbly, with narrow gashes where its ears and nose should have been.
The ugly creature left, then a long line of baggage camels followed. Black-robed men with turban-swathed heads led the caravan. At their belts hung long thin swords with curved blades. The weary procession seemed to continue forever, but the last camel finally passed out of the trough. A handful of humans scattered ten to twenty yards apart came next. This rearguard was composed of fatigued stragglers who could do little more than stare at their own feet as they shuffled through the dark labyrinth, and Ruha dared to hope she would survive the strange group's pass¬ing.
Then, as one of the last men shuffled within a foot of Ru¬ha's hiding place, he stumbled. He reached out to catch himself against the steep slope, pressing his hand against Ruha's sand-covered body. He gasped and jerked himself upright, then peered into the black shadows.
Ruha did not hesitate. She clamped her free hand over the straggler's mouth, then thrust her jambiya into his stomach. He uttered an astonished and pained groan, but Ruha's hand muffled the sound. The young widow drove the blade of her weapon toward his heart, simultaneously pulling him onto the slip-face beside her. She quickly dragged several armfuls of sand over his head and body. In an instant the man was dead and buried.
Her heart beating madly, Ruha turned her attention back to the trough, fearing that one of the dead man's compatri¬ots might have witnessed the struggle. The last stragglers were more than fifteen yards away, and they were all as lethargic as ever. Relieved at the carelessness of the strange procession, Ruha again leaned against the dune and covered herself with a thin layer of sand.
She stayed in hiding for what seemed an eternity, even after the last straggler had gone. She could hardly control her breathing, and found herself alternately struggling to stifle mournful sobs for Ajaman's death and joyful chortles celebrating her own survival. At the same time, Ruha re¬mained terrified that the dead straggler would be missed or that one last group of attackers would shuffle into view just as she left the shadows.
Finally Ruha conquered the indecision born by these fears and dared to leave her hiding place. In the same in¬stant, she heard the patter of sand sloughing down the steep slip-face above her. The young women spun around, and looked toward the crest, jambiya poised to strike.
Fifty feet above her, kneeling atop the dume and silhouet¬ted against the moon, was one last man. His face was turn¬ed toward the oasis, and he seemed oblivious to Ruha's presence. Unlike the men who had passed ahead of him, he wore only a yellowish aba that matched the desert sand. Even in the pale moonlight, it was clear that his face was red, sun-blistered, and peeling. And though he presented only his profile to her, enough of his face was visible that Ruha could see his eyepatch and the pole, golden bar that protruded from beneath his keffiyeh. His features wet drawn and hagard, though there was still a certain boyish softness to them.
Ruha's heart began to pound like the hooves of a camel, and her knees grew as weak as those of a calf. The man atop the dune was the one she had seen in her premonition.
最后黄昏退入了黑夜中。骆驼被拴牢了，孩子们被叫回了他们父母的营帐，吵躁的鸟儿外出捕猎，蝙蝠也被远处的虫群吸引走了。沙漠又恢复了白天的宁静。营地中，男人们拨起reba-bas唱着叙事的歌互相取乐。女人们像平常一样，比瞪羚还安静，而露哈不必听就知道她们在为男人们提供加盐的咖啡。
等到营地陷入黑暗的安适之中后，年轻的妻子系紧腰间的腰带，把她的jambiya插入一个空鞘。这把弯曲的双刃匕首是露哈珍爱的财产，因为这是蔻哈达在她12岁生日时送她的。然后，她把自己包进了一条能够在黑暗中掩护她的宽松的黑袍中。它也可以为她保暖，因为沙漠有着与酷热的白天相当的严寒的夜晚。
露哈开始离开营帐，然后发现自己忘了带阿扎曼的晚餐。她回身在kuerabiche里放了一包骆驼奶，然后又用野杏填满这个肩包。如果她忘记带食物，为丈夫送饭就太像个正当的理由了。
年轻的妻子回到门口，停下来观察营地。一百英尺外绿洲的水塘反射着满月的光芒。习习的微风撩动着水面，细小的浪花如白色的钻石般闪耀。野杏树的纠结的枝干环绕着水塘，在空气中留下成熟的水果的香气。杏树之上耸立着三十株庄严的棕榈树，它们蕨状的叶子如伸开的手指般在星空下散开。
近百只营帐的黑影散落在树间。穿着长袍的人影如鬼怪般在帐间游走。门外，男人们小群的聚坐在一起，边唱边饮着加了盐的咖啡，同时又聆听着远处警卫号角的高升鸣响。
明月当空，可供躲藏的影子实在不多，幸运的是风力足够施用有可能需要的幻象，因此露哈有十分的信心能神不知鬼不觉地找到阿扎曼。她溜出门口，施展了一个让她在沙漠中完全无声移动的sand-whisper（沙之低语）术。她绕到帐后，为了不被哪只骆驼或者狗闻到而小心地保持在下风处。
不一会儿她便离开了绿洲。树木被细长的藜类植物取代，它们之间有着如此均匀的间隔，简直像人种下的。这些低矮的灌木之外，这片区域变得完全荒凉。没有了树木和藜类植物的根来固定土壤，风把沙塑造为一片直达地平线之外的耸立的半月形的沙丘所形成的无尽之海。
露哈知道沙海绵延超过二万五千平方英里。当沙丘最终消退时，它们只是让位给了一片烤焦的泥土和风蚀的基石所构成的土地，那甚至比沙海本身还要荒凉和缺乏生气。据露哈所知，这片荒地一直延伸到世界的尽头。
当然，她听说过关于沙漠之外的国度的故事，可是她也听说过沙漠下和云上的国家的传说。对于在Anauroch（蛮牛沙漠）人口最密集的区域里转了一年才只遇到了三个部落的露哈来说，一万人住在从不迁移的营地中的故事是不可思议的。她无法想象出一片可以月复一月地供养他们所有的骆驼的草场。
露哈朝着沙丘偷偷走去，藜类植物的辛辣的气味更加猛烈的刺激着她的鼻子，把她的思绪带回了沙漠。她把注意力转回沙海。
月光明亮的照在沙丘和缓的凸面上，凹侧陡峭的滑坡却陷入了如露哈的长袍般漆黑的暗影中。半月形的沙丘间蔓延着荒凉多石的沟谷构成的阴暗迷宫。
一英里外，El Ma'ra在沙漠中耸立百尺。露哈知道阿扎曼就躺在百尺高的柱顶，他的眼睛正扫视着幽暗的沙漠防备着敌对部落的入侵者。在这块高大的岩石四周几百码的地方，还会有更多守卫躲在最高的沙丘的暗面中。露哈停下来对自己施展了一个sand-shadow（沙影）术。这个法术会让她在暗影中隐形。为了避开阿扎曼的同僚守卫们，她只需保持在沙丘的背光面：她只是希望她的丈夫把绳子垂在了石柱的暗面。
当露哈研究着面前的荒凉景象是，一阵寒意袭过她。也许是夜里的寒气，或者是沙漠风的持续的嗡鸣让她脊背发凉。年轻的妻子不清楚这原因。她只知道自己想和丈夫在一起。
露哈潜入了第一个沙丘脚下的沟谷中。即便要留意着保持在阴影中，这个年轻女人还是行动迅速。不久她就行进了半英里来到沙丘间的荒凉的迷宫中。
南方远远响起隆隆声。这种声音在沙漠中并不奇怪。有时是远处的雷引起的，有时是几千吨沙从高大的沙丘的坡面落下造成的。迷信的贝都因人甚至把这轰鸣归咎于埋葬已久的堡垒的警钟声。然而所有的那些声音都很低沉。露哈所听到的则更像是尖锐的爆裂声。那不是自然的声音，年轻的妻子由担忧转变为了恐慌。
阿扎曼南面的岗位上响起了尖锐的号角的哀鸣声。露哈瞥见砂石柱顶她丈夫的身影站起来面向南方。
露哈扔下肩包从鞘中抽出jambiya。她以她的沉重的长袍允许的最大速度朝EI Ma'ra跑去。新娘觉得号角的警报一定和她的看见的幻象有所关联。没有任何一支突袭队会在警报发出前弄出那种尖锐的声音。就算有哪个贝都因突袭者能够制造这种响声，他也不会宣告自己的到来给敌人时间作准备。
听到阿扎曼的号角那响亮的音色时露哈离高大的石柱已不足百码。她抬头正好看见他扔下号角搭弦射向石柱基部附近的某物。当看到她的丈夫的攻击时，露哈为自己的恐慌感到内疚。阿扎曼是在沙漠中长大的贝都因战士，他靠掠夺其他部落和抵御那些来偷他放养的畜群中的骆驼的人而磨练了高超的本领。怀疑他保护自己的能力几乎就是对妻子职责的背叛。
阿扎曼再次搭弓射击。露哈停止了奔跑，意识到自己的存在只会打扰她的丈夫。从EI Ma'ra旁边的沙中爆发出一道亮光射向柱顶，令年轻的妻子暂时失明。重重的一击撞在沙丘上，几乎把她扫倒在地。
当阿扎曼的身体无力地从EI Ma'ra上滚下时，露哈看到的幻象成真了。他落在了石柱基部的沙中，之后就一动不动的躺在月光下。
“阿扎曼！”露哈倒抽一口气。她一动不动的站了很长时间，知道自己为丈夫感到的恐惧是正确的。阿扎曼不是死于入侵者的箭，而是死于没有任何一个贝都因人能够用弓射出的闪电之矢。
露哈摇摇头奔向她的丈夫，心里同时想着两件事。露哈渴望抱住阿扎曼，听他叫她的名字。理性上，她知道这没用，因为就算那道闪光没有，百尺的坠落也绝对会杀了他。尽管如此，她还是不能、也不想相信这点，直到她亲吻了他那无生命的嘴唇。
同时，露哈意识到Qahtan遭到了袭击，而且敌人并不是另一个部落。她确定杀死阿扎曼的那道耀眼的闪光是魔法，因为她曾经看过蔻哈达用相似的飞弹摧毁一只发疯的胡狼。无论多么迫切的公开袭击另一个部落，一个贝都因族人都不会施展这样的魔法飞弹。他对巫术的恐惧不会允许此种做法。
这个想法让露哈在走出最后一条沟谷前顿了一下。这一顿救了她的命。她停下来刚好看到一只可怕的生物爬上阿扎曼所在的沙丘。
露哈从未见过类似的东西。虽然这东西明显可以用两条腿行走，它却是用四条腿像蛇般迅速的窜上月色下的斜坡的。这畜牲形状像只蜥蜴，强壮的臂和腿以和身体垂直的角度突出，移动起来虽然难看却很迅速。它狭长的头骨有着坡形的额，额的末端是突出的眉骨。当它刨着沙子时，它那细而笨拙的脖子两边摇摆。虽然长得野蛮，这东西明显有智慧。它拿着一把剑，背着一把粗糙的十字弓，还穿着一件磨损的皮质紧身外套。
当它到达阿扎曼身边时这生物伸出长长的分叉的舌头触碰了遗体的几处。以这种方式检查了死尸一会儿后，那东西朝高大的岩石的远端瞥了瞥，然后挥挥爪子。过了一会儿，另外几只动物窜入了视线。
看过那只丑陋的生物触碰她死去的丈夫后，露哈感到一阵沉痛的哀伤。意识到她无法为阿扎曼做更多事，年轻的寡妇沿原路撤回了。她在沙漠中度过的时日足以让她明白，即使有沙影术的协助，如果她跑起来也是很容易被发现的。露哈根本没想过要先于这些生物逃跑。她反而躲在了最近的一个沙丘的背面。她背靠陡坡，在身上洒了一层沙，仅留下黑色的眼睛露在外面。沙子在视觉上并不能比沙影术更好的隐藏她，但她希望能够掩盖她的体味。
露哈紧紧握住她的jambiya，集中思想来平抚脉搏和呼吸。她甚至从未想过试着回到Qahtan营地，因为她知道只要她一开始移动就早晚会被发现。另外，她确信战士们已经听到了号角声，甚至现在就准备好迎战了。过了一会儿，第一只生物端着引弦待发的十字弓踏进了露哈面前的沟谷。它停下来观察地域，直视着露哈的藏身处。年轻的寡妇在心中默诵召唤沙狮的咒语，希望实施这个法术不会暴露自己。
犹豫的检查了几秒钟后，这难缠的家伙终于吐吐舌头前进了。露哈默默松了口气，然后就保持完全不动。类似的生物像河流般涌过露哈面前的沟谷，完全是没有组织的样子。有几次，这些动物走近到露哈都能看到它们黄色的卵状眼睛。有一支甚至停下来在她旁边的沙子上吐舌头。这东西的虹膜上有着水平的狭长瞳孔。它的皮肤粗糙，长着卵石状花纹，耳朵和鼻孔处是几条细缝。
这丑陋的生物离开了，后面跟着是一长串载行李的骆驼。带领车队的是包着头巾的黑袍人。他们腰带上挂着细长的弯刃剑。这令人疲惫的队伍似乎会永远持续下去，但最后一头骆驼终于通过了沟谷。接下来是一群间隔十几二十码的分散的人类。这只后卫部队由累得除了盯着自己的脚挪过黑暗的迷宫之外什么都做不了的落伍者构成，露哈敢于期望她会逃过这奇怪的队伍通行。
然后，当最后这群人中之一挪到李露哈的藏身处不足一英尺的时候，他绊倒了。他伸手去扶陡坡来支撑自己，把手压在了露哈被沙覆盖的身体上。他倒吸一口气，猛地站直身体，然后盯住了黑影。
露哈毫不犹豫，她用空闲的手捂住落伍者的嘴，然后把她的jambiya刺进了他的肚子。他发出了一声惊讶痛苦的呻吟，可是露哈的手蒙住了声音。年轻的寡妇把她的武器捅向他的心脏，同时把他拉到了自己旁边的斜坡上。她迅速拉过几捧沙撒在他的头上和身上。只消一刻这人就死掉埋掉了。
她的心脏狂跳不止，露哈把注意力转回沟谷，害怕死去的那个人的同伴之一目击了这场搏斗。最后的落伍者还在15码开外，他们都是一如既往的昏昏欲睡。放心于这条奇怪队伍的粗心，露哈又一次躺回了沙丘并用一层薄沙覆盖了自己。
甚至在最后一个落伍者离开后，露哈还在躲藏着，仿佛要永远都躲藏着一般。她几乎无法控制自己的呼吸。她发现自己努力轮流压抑着哀悼阿扎曼死亡的悲哀的啜泣和庆祝自己生还的快乐的笑。同时露哈仍旧害怕那个死去的落伍者的失踪会被发现，或者在她离开阴影时袭击者的最后的一波又会拖着脚步进入视野。
最后露哈战胜了这些恐惧所带来的犹豫不决，鼓起勇气离开了她的藏身之处。正在此时，她听到头顶上沙粒滑落的啪哒声。年轻的女人转过身看向丘顶，手中的jambiya随时准备出击。
在她上方50英尺处，月光下跪在沙堆上的黑影就是最后的人。他的脸转向绿洲，好像没察觉到露哈的存在。与在他之前通过的那些人不同，他只穿了一件与沙漠中的沙相配的黄色aba。即便在苍白的月光下，也可以清楚地看见他的脸是红色的，被晒伤了，还在脱皮。虽然他只把自己的侧面展现给她，露哈从他面部可见的部分足以看到它的眼罩和从他的头巾下伸出的金色的头带。他的身形憔悴疲惫，然而其中还是带有某种稚气的柔嫩。
露哈的心开始像骆驼蹄子一样狂跳，他的膝盖变得如牛犊般软弱无力。沙丘顶上的正是她在预知幻象中见到的那个人。
第一章的后半部分，男女主角齐齐出场，故事终于进入正轨了
第二章预告：露哈的苦难求生历程，以及自尊心超强的小正太——男二号的隆重登场，敬请期待
本书的特点就是制造悬念 呵呵 [s:2]
