MEANWHILE Trumpkin and the two boys arrived at the dark little stone archway which led into the inside of the Mound, and two sentinel badgers (the white patches on their cheeks were all Edmund could see of them) leaped up with bared teeth and asked them in snarling voices, “Who goes there?”
“Trumpkin,” said the Dwarf. “Bringing the High King of Narnia out of the far past.”
The badgers nosed at the boys' hands. “At last,” they said. “At last.”
“Give us a light, friends,” said Trumpkin.
The badgers found a torch just inside the arch and Peter lit it and handed it to Trumpkin. “The D.L.F. had better lead,” he said. “We don't know our way about this place.”
Trumpkin took the torch and went ahead into the dark tunnel. It was a cold, black, musty place, with an occasional bat fluttering in the torchlight, and plenty of cobwebs. The boys, who had been mostly in the open air since that morning at the railway station, felt as if they were going into a trap or a prison.
“I say, Peter,” whispered Edmund. “Look at those carvings on the walls. Don't they look old? And yet we're older than that. When we were last here, they hadn't been made.”
“Yes,” said Peter. “That makes one think.”
The Dwarf went on ahead and then turned to the right, and then to the left, and then down some steps, and then to the left again. Then at last they saw a light ahead—light from under a door. And now for the first time they heard voices, for they had come to the door of the central chamber. The voices inside were angry ones. Someone was talking so loudly that the approach of the boys and the Dwarf had not been heard.
“Don't like the sound of that,” whispered Trumpkin to Peter. “Let's listen for a moment.” All three stood perfectly still on the outside of the door.
“You know well enough,” said a voice (“That's the King,” whispered Trumpkin), “why the Horn was not blown at sunrise that morning. Have you forgotten that Miraz fell upon us almost before Trumpkin had gone, and we were fighting for our lives for the space of three hours and more? I blew it when first I had a breathing space.”
“I'm not likely to forget it,” came the angry voice, “when my Dwarfs bore the brunt of the attack and one in five of them fell.” (“That's Nikabrik,” whispered Trumpkin.)
“For shame, Dwarf,” came a thick voice (“Trufflehunter's,” said Trumpkin). “We all did as much as the Dwarfs and none more than the King.”
“Tell that tale your own way for all I care,” answered Nikabrik. “But whether it was that the Horn was blown too late, or whether there was no magic in it, no help has come. You, you great clerk, you master magician, you know-all; are you still asking us to hang our hopes on Aslan and King Peter and all the rest of it?”
“I must confess—I cannot deny it—that I am deeply disappointed in the result of the operation,” came the answer. (“That'll be Doctor Cornelius,” said Trumpkin.)
“To speak plainly,” said Nikabrik, “your wallet's empty, your eggs , your fish uncaught, your promises broken. Stand aside then and others work. And that is why—”
“The help will come,” said Trufflehunter. “I stand by Aslan. Have patience, like us beasts. The help will come. It may be even now at the door.”
“Pah!” snarled Nikabrik. “You badgers would have us wait till the sky falls and we can all catch larks. I tell you we can't wait. Food is running short; we lose more than we can afford at every encounter; our followers are slipping away.”
“And why?” asked Trufflehunter. “I'll tell you why. Because it is noised among them that we have called on the Kings of old and the Kings of old have not answered. The last words Trumpkin spoke before he went (and went, most likely, to his death) were, ‘If you must blow the Horn, do not let the army know why you blow it or what you hope from it.’ But that same evening everyone seemed to know.”
“You'd better have shoved your gray snout in a hornets' nest, Badger, than suggest that I am the blab,” said Nikabrik. “Take it back, or—”
“Oh, stop it, both of you,” said King Caspian. “I want to know what it is that Nikabrik keeps on hinting we should do. But before that, I want to know who those two strangers are whom he has brought into our council and who stand there with their ears open and their mouths shut.”
“They are friends of mine,” said Nikabrik. “And what better right have you yourself to be here than that you are a friend of Trumpkin's and the Badger's? And what right has that old dotard in the black gown to be here except that he is your friend? Why am I to be the only one who can't bring in his friends?”
“His Majesty is the King to whom you have sworn allegiance,” said Trufflehunter sternly.
“Court manners, court manners,” sneered Nikabrik. “But in this hole we may talk plainly. You know—and he knows—that this Telmarine boy will be king of nowhere and nobody in a week unless we can help him out of the trap in which he sits.”
“Perhaps,” said Cornelius, “your new friends would like to speak for themselves? You there, who and what are you?”
“Worshipful Master Doctor,” came a thin, whining voice. “So please you, I'm only a poor old woman, I am, and very obliged to his Worshipful Dwarfship for his friendship, I'm sure. His Majesty, bless his handsome face, has no need to be afraid of an old woman that's nearly doubled up with the rheumatics and hasn't two sticks to put under her kettle. I have some poor little skill—not like yours, Master Doctor, of course—in small spells and cantrips that I'd be glad to use against our enemies if it was agreeable to all concerned. For I hate 'em. Oh yes. No one hates better than me.”
“That is all most interesting and—er—satisfactory,” said Doctor Cornelius. “I think I now know what you are, Madam. Perhaps your other friend, Nikabrik, would give some account of himself?”
A dull, gray voice at which Peter's flesh crept replied, “I'm hunger. I'm thirst. Where I bite, I hold till I die, and even after death they must cut out my mouthful from my enemy's body and bury it with me. I can fast a hundred years and not die. I can lie a hundred nights on the ice and not freeze. I can drink a river of blood and not burst. Show me your enemies.”
“And it is in the presence of these two that you wish to disclose your plan?” said Caspian.
“Yes,” said Nikabrik. “And by their help that I mean to execute it.”
There was a minute or two during which Trumpkin and the boys could hear Caspian and his two friends speaking in low voices but could not make out what they were saying. Then Caspian spoke aloud.
“Well, Nikabrik,” he said, “we will hear your plan.”
There was a pause so long that the boys began to wonder if Nikabrik ever going to begin; when he did, it was in a lower voice, as if he himself did not much like what he was saying.
“All said and done,” he muttered, “none of us knows the truth about the ancient days in Narnia. Trumpkin believed none of the stories. I was ready to put them to the trial. We tried first the Horn and it has failed. If there ever was a High King Peter and a Queen Susan and a King Edmund and a Queen Lucy, then either they have not heard us, or they cannot come, or they are our enemies—”
“Or they are on the way,” put in Trufflehunter.
“You can go on saying that till Miraz has fed us all to his dogs. As I was saying, we have tried one link in the chain of old legends, and it has done us no good. Well. But when your sword breaks, you draw your dagger. The stories tell of other powers beside the ancient Kings and Queens. How if we could call them up?”
“If you mean Aslan,” said Trufflehunter, “it's all one calling on him and on the Kings. They were his servants. If he will not send them (but I make no doubt he will), is he more likely to come himself?”
“No. You're right there,” said Nikabrik. “Aslan and the Kings go together. Either Aslan is dead, or he is not on our side. Or else something stronger than himself keeps him back. And if he did come—how do we know he'd be our friend? He was not always a good friend to Dwarfs by all that's told. Not even to all beasts. Ask the Wolves. And anyway, he was in Narnia only once that I ever heard of, and he didn't stay long. You may drop Aslan out of the reckoning. I was thinking of someone else.”
There was no answer, and for a few minutes it was so still that Edmund could hear the wheezy and snuffling breath of the Badger.
“Who do you mean?” said Caspian at last.
“I mean a power so much greater than Aslan's that it held Narnia for years and years, if the stories are true.”
“The White Witch!” cried three voices all at once, and from the noise Peter guessed that three people had leaped to their feet.
“Yes,” said Nikabrik very slowly and distinctly, “I mean the Witch. Sit down again. Don't all take fright at a name as if you were children. We want power: and we want a power that will be on our side. As for power, do not the stories say that the Witch defeated Aslan, and bound him, and killed him on that very stone which is over there, just beyond the light?”
“But they also say that he came to life again,” said the Badger sharply.
“Yes, they say,” answered Nikabrik, “but you'll notice that we hear precious little about anything he did afterwards. He just fades out of the story. How do you explain that, if he really came to life? Isn't it much more likely that he didn't, and that the stories say nothing more about him because there was nothing more to say?”
“He established the Kings and Queens,” said Caspian.
“A King who has just won a great battle can usually establish himself without the help of a performing lion,” said Nikabrik. There was a fierce growl, probably from Trufflehunter.
“And anyway,” Nikabrik continued, “what came of the Kings and their reign? They faded too. But it's very different with the Witch. They say she ruled for a hundred years: a hundred years of winter. There's power, if you like. There's something practical.”
“But, heaven and earth!” said the King, “haven't we always been told that she was the worst enemy of all? Wasn't she a tyrant ten times worse than Miraz?”
“Perhaps,” said Nikabrik in a cold voice. “Perhaps she was for you humans, if there were any of you in those days. Perhaps she was for some of the beasts. She stamped out the Beavers, I dare say; at least there are none of them in Narnia now. But she got on all right with us Dwarfs. I'm a Dwarf and I stand by my own people. We're not afraid of the Witch.”
“But you've joined with us,” said Trufflehunter.
“Yes, and a lot of good it has done my people, so far,” snapped Nikabrik. “Who is sent on all the dangerous raids? The Dwarfs. Who goes short when the rations fail? The Dwarfs. Who—?”
“Lies! All lies!” said the Badger.
“And so,” said Nikabrik, whose voice now rose to a scream, “if you can't help my people, I'll go to someone who can.”
“Is this open treason, Dwarf?” asked the King.
“Put that sword back in its sheath, Caspian,” said Nikabrik. “Murder at council, eh? Is that your game? Don't be fool enough to try it. Do you think I'm afraid of you? There's three on my side, and three on yours.”
“Come on, then,” snarled Trufflehunter, but he was immediately interrupted.
“Stop, stop, stop,” said Doctor Cornelius. “You go on too fast. The Witch is dead. All the stories agree on that. What does Nikabrik mean by calling on the Witch?”
That grey and terrible voice which had spoken only once before said, “Oh, is she?”
And then the shrill, whining voice began, “Oh, bless his heart, his dear little Majesty needn't mind about the White Lady—that's what we call her—being dead. The Worshipful Master Doctor is only making game of a poor old woman like me when he says that. Sweet Master Doctor, learned Master Doctor, who ever heard of a witch that really died? You can always get them back.”
“Call her up,” said the gray voice. “We are all ready. Draw the circle. Prepare the blue fire.”
Above the steadily increasing growl of the Badger and Cornelius's “What?” rose the voice of King Caspian like thunder.
“So that is your plan, Nikabrik! Black sorcery and the calling up of an accursed ghost. And I see who your companions are—a Hag and a Wer-Wolf!”
The next minute or so was very confused. There was an animal roaring, a clash of steel; the boys and Trumpkin rushed in; Peter had a glimpse of a horrible, gray, gaunt creature, half man and half wolf, in the very act of leaping upon a boy about his own age, and Edmund saw a badger and a Dwarf rolling on the floor in a sort of cat fight. Trumpkin found himself face to face with the Hag. Her nose and chin stuck out like a pair of nut-crackers, her dirty gray hair was flying about her face and she had just got Doctor Cornelius by the throat. At one slash of Trumpkin's sword her head rolled on the floor. Then the light was knocked over and it was all swords, teeth, claws, fists and boots for about sixty seconds. Then silence.
“Are you all right, Ed?”
“I—I think so,” panted Edmund. “I've got that brute Nikabrik, but he's still alive.”
“Weights and water-bottles!” came an angry voice. “It's me you're sitting on. Get off. You're like a young elephant.”
“Sorry, D.L.F.,” said Edmund. “Is that better?”
“Ow! No!” bellowed Trumpkin. “You're putting your boot in my mouth. Go away.”
“Is King Caspian anywhere?” asked Peter.
“I'm here,” said a rather faint voice. “Something bit me.”
They all heard the noise of someone striking a match. It was Edmund. The little flame showed his face, looking pale and dirty. He blundered about for a little, found the candle (they were no longer using the lamp, for they had run out of oil), set it on the table, and lit it. When flame rose clear, several people scrambled to their feet. Six faces at one another in the candlelight.
“We don't seem to have any enemies left,” said Peter. “There's the Hag, dead.” (He turned his eyes quickly away from her.) “And Nikabrik, dead too. And I suppose this thing is a Wer-Wolf. It's so long since I've seen one. Wolf's head and man's body. That means he was just turning from man into wolf at the moment he was killed. And you, I suppose, are King Caspian?”
“Yes,” said the other boy. “But I've no idea who you are.”
“It's the High King, King Peter,” said Trumpkin.
“Your Majesty is very welcome,” said Caspian.
“And so is your Majesty,” said Peter. “I haven't come to take your place, you know, but to put you into it.”
“Your Majesty,” said another voice at Peter's elbow. He turned and found himself face to face with the Badger. Peter leaned forward, put his arms round the beast and kissed the furry head: it wasn't a girlish thing for him to do, because he was the High King.
“Best of badgers,” he said. “You never doubted us all through.”
“No credit to me, your Majesty,” said Trufflehunter. “I'm a beast and don't change. I'm a badger, what's more, and we hold on.”
“I am sorry for Nikabrik,” said Caspian, “though he hated me from first moment he saw me. He had gone sour inside from long suffering hating. If we had won quickly he might have become a good Dwarf in days of peace. I don't know which of us killed him. I'm glad of that.”
“You're bleeding,” said Peter.
“Yes, I'm bitten,” said Caspian. “It was that—that wolf thing.” Cleaning and bandaging the wound took a little time, and when it was done Trumpkin said, “Now. Before everything else we want some breakfast.”
“But not here,” said Peter.
“No,” said Caspian with a shudder. “And we must send someone to take away the bodies.”
“Let the vermin be flung into a pit,” said Peter. “But the Dwarf we give to his people to be buried in their own fashion.”
They breakfasted at last in another of the dark cellars of Aslan's How. It was not such a breakfast as they would have chosen, for Caspian and Cornelius were thinking of venison pasties, and Peter and Edmund of buttered eggs and hot coffee, but what everyone got was a little bit of cold bear-meat (out of the boys' pockets), a lump of hard cheese, an onion, and a mug of water. But, from the way they fell to, anyone would have supposed it was delicious.
這時,特魯普金和兩個男孩抵達(dá)了通向山丘內(nèi)部那又小又暗的石頭拱門,兩個獾哨兵(埃德蒙只看得見他們臉上的白斑)跳了出來,齜牙低吼:“誰在那里?”
“特魯普金,”矮人回答,“我?guī)砹诉h(yuǎn)古納尼亞的至尊王。”
獾們嗅了嗅男孩們的手。“終于來了,”他們說,“總算來了?!?/p>
“給我們一支火把,朋友們?!碧佤斊战鹫f。
獾從拱門里尋出一支火把,彼得點燃后遞給特魯普金。“最好由D.L.F.領(lǐng)路,”他說,“我們不知這里如何走?!?/p>
特魯普金拿過火把,引路進(jìn)入黑暗的地道。地道寒冷、幽暗,散發(fā)著霉味,時不時有蝙蝠從火把光亮處飛過,蛛網(wǎng)密布。自火車站的那天早晨起,男孩們大多時候待在戶外,此時感覺像是落入了陷阱,又或是進(jìn)入了地牢。
“喂,彼得,”埃德蒙低聲道,“看墻上那些石刻。看起來不古老嗎?可我們比它還要老。我們最后來這里的時候,這些石刻還沒出現(xiàn)呢?!?/p>
“是啊,”彼得說,“這讓人感慨?!?/p>
矮人繼續(xù)前行,先右拐,再左拐,又下了幾級臺階,然后再次左拐。終于,他們看到前頭有光——門下透出的光。他們初次在地道里聽到說話聲,原來他們來到了指揮中心的門邊。里頭的聲音充滿怒氣。有人正大聲講話,以至于沒人察覺到男孩們和矮人走近。
“不喜歡這說話的口氣,”矮人低聲對彼得說,“讓我們先聽聽他們說什么。”于是他們仨悄無聲息地站在門外。
“你很清楚,”一個聲音說道(“那是國王。”特魯普金低語),“我為什么沒有在今天日出時吹響那個號角。你忘了嗎?特魯普金剛走,米亞茲就進(jìn)攻我們,我們拼死抵抗了三個多鐘頭。一有喘息時機(jī),我就吹響了號角?!?/p>
“我怎么可能忘記,”憤怒的聲音傳來,“我的矮人部下們抗擊著敵人主力,五分之一的人都陣亡了?!保ā澳鞘悄峥瞬祭锟?。”特魯普金低聲道。)
“不知羞恥,矮人,”一個粗嗓門道(“特魯弗亨特的聲音?!碧佤斊战鹫f),“我們跟矮人們一樣拼命,不過沒人比得上國王。”
“你怎么說都行,我管不著,”尼克布里克回答,“可要么是號角吹得太晚,要么就是號角沒有魔力,反正沒見到任何援助。你,你這偉大的教士、優(yōu)秀的魔法師,你這無所不知的家伙,還要我們寄希望于阿斯蘭,彼得王,那其他所有一切嗎?”
“我得承認(rèn)……我無法否認(rèn)……我對事情的結(jié)果深感失望?!被貞?yīng)聲傳來。(“那是科涅利爾斯博士?!碧佤斊战鹫f。)
“實話實說,”尼克布里克,“你黔驢技窮,雞飛蛋打,毫無收獲,承諾落空??窟呎局?,讓別人干活。這就是為什么……”
“援助會來的,”特魯弗亨特說,“我支持阿斯蘭。要耐心,學(xué)學(xué)我們野獸。援助會來的。沒準(zhǔn)現(xiàn)在就在門外?!?/p>
“呸!”尼克布里克咆哮,“你們獾類要我們等到天塌后再去捉云雀嗎?我跟你說,我們等不了。食物越來越少,每一次戰(zhàn)斗我們都損失慘重,我們的跟隨者正在減少?!?/p>
“原因是什么?”特魯弗亨特問,“我可以告訴你原因。那是因為他們都在傳言,我們召喚了古代的國王們,可他們沒有回應(yīng)。特魯普金出發(fā)前最后說過(他很可能已經(jīng)死了):‘要是一定要吹響號角,那么千萬不要讓士兵們知道為什么吹號角,又寄予了什么希望?!僧?dāng)天傍晚人人都知道了。”
“你暗示我是那個泄密者,獾,你最好把你的黑嘴塞進(jìn)馬蜂窩里,”尼克布里克說,“把話收回去,否則……”
“噢,別吵了,你們倆,”凱斯賓國王說,“我想知道尼克布里克的打算,他一直在暗示我們要怎么做??稍谶@之前,我想知道這兩個陌生人是誰,他把他們帶進(jìn)了我們指揮部,他們站在那里閉著嘴豎著耳朵聽?!?/p>
“他們是我的朋友,”尼克布里克說,“你不過是特魯普金和獾的朋友,難道你比他們更有資格待在這里?要不是你的朋友,那個穿著黑袍的老糊涂又有什么資格在這里?就唯獨我不能把自己的朋友帶進(jìn)來?”
“陛下是你宣誓效忠的國王。”特魯弗亨特嚴(yán)厲地批評。
“宮廷禮儀,宮廷禮儀,”尼克布里克冷笑,“在這個洞里,我們就直說吧。你清楚……他也清楚……除非我們把他從目前的困境中解救出來,這個臺爾馬男孩一周內(nèi)就會成為一個無地?zé)o民可統(tǒng)治的空頭國王。”
“也許,”科涅利爾斯說,“你的新朋友愿意自己說話?你們倆,是誰,干什么的?”
“尊敬的博士大師,”一個尖細(xì)哀怨的聲音響起,“如你所愿,我不過是一個可憐的老婦,僅此而已,我很感激這位可敬的矮人閣下對我的友善,的確如此。陛下,愿主保佑你英俊的臉龐,你無須顧慮我這樣的老婦,風(fēng)濕病把我折磨得彎腰駝背,得靠拐杖才能支撐身體。我有些微末的小技能——當(dāng)然,無法跟你相比,博士大師——能施點兒魔法,念點兒咒語,要是在座的不反對,我很高興能用于對抗敵軍。因為我恨他們。哦,是的。沒人比我更恨?!?/p>
“這真有趣,而且,呃,令人滿意,”科涅利爾斯博士說,“女士,我想我知道你是干什么的了。尼克布里克,也許你另一個朋友愿意自我介紹一下?”
一個呆板陰森的聲音回應(yīng),這聲音讓彼得起雞皮疙瘩:“我是饑餓,我是焦渴。一旦給我咬上,我就會死不松口,就算我死了,也只能把我咬的那口從敵人身上割下來,咬掉的那口也只能與我同葬。我一百年不吃不喝也不會死。在冰面上睡上一百個夜晚我也不會凍僵。飲下一條河流的鮮血我的肚子也不會脹破。告訴我,你們的敵人在哪里?”
“你希望在這兩人面前公開你的計劃嗎?”凱斯賓問。
“是的,”尼克布里克說,“我打算靠他們的幫助來實施我的計策?!?/p>
特魯普金和男孩們聽到凱斯賓和他的兩個朋友低聲商量了一兩分鐘,可聽不清他們在說什么。然后,凱斯賓大聲說:
“好吧,尼克布里克,”他說,“講講你的計劃?!?/p>
接下來是一陣長久的停頓,男孩們開始懷疑尼克布里克是否還打算開口;當(dāng)他開口時,聲音低了下來,似乎他自己也不怎么喜歡他要說的事。
“該說的都說了,該做的都做了,”他咕噥地抱怨,“我們誰也不知道納尼亞古代的真相如何。特魯普金不信那些傳說。我原想試試真假。我們先試了那個號角,但沒有效果。假如以前真有過某個至尊王彼得、蘇珊女王、埃德蒙國王,還有露西女王,那要么是他們沒聽見,要么他們來不了,要么他們是我們的敵人……”
“要么他們在來的路上?!碧佤敻ズ嗵夭遄?。
“你可以繼續(xù)這么說,直至米亞茲把我們都喂給他的狗。我要講的是,我們已經(jīng)試驗了古老傳說這個鏈條中的一環(huán),結(jié)果沒有給我們帶來任何益處。那么,劍斷了,可以用匕首。除了古代的國王和女王,傳說還講述了其他力量。要是我們把那些力量喚醒,那會如何?”
“如果你是指阿斯蘭的話,”特魯弗亨特說,“召喚他和召喚國王們是一回事。他們是他的仆人。如果他不愿派他們來(不過我堅信他會的),很可能他自己親自來?!?/p>
“我不是指阿斯蘭。有一點你說對了,”尼克布里克說,“阿斯蘭和國王們是一伙的。要么阿斯蘭死了,要么他是我們的敵人,要么某些比他強(qiáng)大的勢力阻撓了他的到來。就算他來了,我們能肯定他會是我們的朋友嗎?就傳言來看,他對矮人們并不總是友好的。也并非對所有的野獸都友好。問問狼就知道了。而且,據(jù)我所知,他只來過納尼亞一次,很快就離開了。阿斯蘭不在考慮范圍之內(nèi)。我想到的是另一個人。”
沒人回應(yīng),他們沉默了幾分鐘,靜得埃德蒙能聽見獾那呼哧的鼻息聲。
“你指誰?”凱斯賓終于問道。
“我指的是比阿斯蘭更強(qiáng)大的力量,那個力量用咒語把納尼亞鎮(zhèn)住了很多很多年,假如那些傳說是真的話?!?/p>
“白女巫!”三個聲音同時響起,彼得從響動中推測有三個人跳了起來。
“是的,”尼克布里克緩慢、清楚地說道,“我指的就是白女巫。坐下。別跟小孩似的,聽到個名字就給嚇成這樣。我們需要力量:而這個力量會支持我們。講到力量,傳說不是說嗎,白女巫打敗了阿斯蘭,把他綁了,要在那邊的那塊石頭上殺掉他,就是燈那邊的石頭?”
“可傳說又說,他復(fù)活了?!扁祰?yán)厲地說。
“沒錯,傳說而已,”尼克布里克回應(yīng),“你會注意到,我們極少聽到他之后的事跡。他從傳說中淡出了。假如他真的復(fù)活了的話,你如何解釋這個呢?更可能的是,他沒有復(fù)活,傳說不再談及他,那是因為無話可談,這種可能性不是更大嗎?”
“他后來確立了國王們和女王們。”凱斯賓說。
“贏下輝煌戰(zhàn)役的國王通常能確立自己的地位,無須一頭耍把戲的獅子的幫助。”尼克布里克說。里面?zhèn)鞒鲆宦晳嵟牡秃?,可能是特魯弗亨特發(fā)出的。
“再說,”尼克布里克繼續(xù)道,“那些國王和他們的統(tǒng)治后來怎樣了?他們也淡出了。而白女巫的情形則不同。傳說她統(tǒng)治了一百年,一百年的寒冬。換句話說,那是本事。有切切實實的效果?!?/p>
“可是,天地為證!”國王說,“我們不是一直都聽說她是最可怕的敵人?她不是一個比米亞茲還要壞上十倍的暴君嗎?”
“也許吧,”尼克布里克語氣冰冷,“也許她沒有善待你們?nèi)祟?,要是那時有你們?nèi)祟惖脑挕R苍S對一些動物來說她也很壞。我相信,她滅掉了河貍;至少現(xiàn)在在納尼亞見不到任何河貍。可她跟我們矮人處得還行。我是一個矮人,我捍衛(wèi)我的族群利益。我們不怕白女巫?!?/p>
“可你已經(jīng)加入我們了?!碧佤敻ズ嗵卣f。
“沒錯,我的族人迄今因此獲益良多,”尼克布里克惡聲惡氣地說,“所有危險的突擊任務(wù)都派給誰?矮人。配給不足時,減少誰的口糧?矮人。誰……”
“謊言!徹頭徹尾的謊言!”獾說。
“因此,”尼克布里克提高嗓門,幾乎尖聲叫喊起來,“要是你們無法幫助我的族人,我就向能幫我們的人求助。”
“你要公然謀反嗎,小矮人?”國王問。
“把那劍收回劍鞘,凱斯賓,”尼克布里克說,“開會時搞謀殺,嗯?這就是你的把戲?別蠢得去嘗試。你以為我怕你?你那頭有三個,我這邊也有三個。”
“那么,上吧?!碧佤敻ズ嗵嘏叵?,可他立刻被打斷了。
“停,停,停,”科涅利爾斯博士說,“你動手太快了。白女巫已經(jīng)死了。所有的傳說都支持這點。那么尼克布里克說要召喚白女巫是什么意思?”
剛才講過話的那個可怕陰森的聲音道:“哦,她真死了嗎?”
接著那個刺耳哀怨的聲音說道:“唉,保佑他的心臟,親愛的小陛下別擔(dān)心白夫人死掉了……我們都這么稱呼她??删吹牟┦看髱熯@么說,只是取笑我這個可憐的老婦罷了。親切的博士大師,博學(xué)的博士大師,誰聽說過有哪個女巫真的會死掉?總能讓她們復(fù)活?!?/p>
“把她召喚出來,”陰森的聲音道,“我們都準(zhǔn)備好了。畫個圓圈。點上藍(lán)色火焰?!?/p>
國王凱斯賓的雷霆話語蓋過了獾越來越響的怒吼以及科涅利爾斯嚴(yán)厲的斥責(zé)聲:“什么?”
“這就是你的計策,尼克布里克!黑色巫術(shù),召喚一個受詛咒的魂靈。我明白你的同伴是誰了——一個巫婆和一個狼人!”
接下來一片混亂,持續(xù)了一分鐘左右。里面?zhèn)鱽硪矮F的嘶吼,刀劍打斗聲,男孩們和特魯普金沖了進(jìn)去。彼得瞥見一頭可怕、陰森、瘦削的生物,半人半狼,正作勢撲向一個跟自己年紀(jì)差不多的男孩,埃德蒙見到一只獾和一個矮人在地板上滾作一團(tuán)廝打著,特魯普金發(fā)覺自己跟那巫婆打了一個照面。她的鼻子和下巴外突,像一把胡桃夾子,她那骯臟的花白頭發(fā)披散在臉上,她正掐著科涅利爾斯的咽喉。特魯普金一劍劈下,她的頭滾落在地板上。燈給撞翻了,黑暗中只聽到劍擊聲、撕咬聲、抓撓聲、揮拳聲、腳踢聲,響聲持續(xù)了約六十秒鐘。接著安靜了下來。
“你沒事吧,埃德?”
“我……我想還好,”埃德蒙喘息著說,“我制服了那畜生尼克布里克,不過他還活著?!?/p>
“沉死了!(1)”傳來憤怒的叫喊,“你壓著的是我!走開!你簡直是頭小象!”
“對不起,D.L.F.,”埃德蒙說,“好受些了嗎?”
“哎喲!不好受!”特魯普金怒吼,“你把靴子伸進(jìn)我嘴里了!走開!”
“凱斯賓國王在哪兒?”彼得問。
“我在這兒,”一個很虛弱的聲音回應(yīng),“我被咬了?!?/p>
某人劃火柴的聲音響起。那是埃德蒙。小火苗映出他的臉,蒼白骯臟。他跌跌撞撞地摸索了一陣,找到一根蠟燭(他們不再使用油燈,因為油都耗盡了),把蠟燭立在桌上,點燃了它。當(dāng)火苗穩(wěn)定時,幾個人爬了起來。燭光下六個人眨著眼互相打量。
“對手好像都被我們干掉了,”彼得說,“那是巫婆,死了?!保ㄋ芸炜戳怂谎?,轉(zhuǎn)開了視線。)“尼克布里克,也死了。我猜這家伙是狼人吧。距離上次見到這東西,已經(jīng)很久了。狼頭,人身。這意味著,在他被殺死的那一刻,他正由人變成狼。那么,我猜,你是凱斯賓國王吧?”
“是的,”那個男孩說,“可我不知道你是誰?!?/p>
“這是至尊王,彼得國王?!碧佤斊战鹫f。
“歡迎陛下?!眲P斯賓說。
“也歡迎陛下你,”彼得說,“我來不是要取代你的位置,你知道,而是要穩(wěn)固你的位置?!?/p>
“陛下?!北说蒙磉呉粋€聲音響起。他轉(zhuǎn)過來,正好與獾面對面。彼得身體前傾,環(huán)抱住這頭野獸,親吻他毛茸茸的腦袋:他這么做并不顯得女孩子氣,因為他是至尊王。
“最勇敢的獾,”他說,“你從未懷疑過我們?!?/p>
“過獎了,陛下,”特魯弗亨特說,“我是動物,動物不會變心。更何況,我是獾,我們獾堅定不移?!?/p>
“我為尼克布里克感到難過,”凱斯賓說,“雖然從一見面起,他就討厭我。長期的苦難和仇恨使他的內(nèi)心變壞了。如果我們能快速地取得勝利,在和平年代里他會成為一個善良的矮人。我不清楚我們當(dāng)中誰殺死了他。我還是為此高興?!?/p>
“你在流血?!北说谜f。
“哦,我被咬了,”凱斯賓說,“是那個——那狼樣的家伙咬的?!鼻逑春桶鷤诨瞬簧贂r間,弄好后,特魯普金說:“好啦。我們先吃早餐,再處理其他事情?!?/p>
“可別在這兒吃。”彼得說。
“好的,”凱斯賓顫抖了一下說道,“我們得讓人把這些尸體弄走?!?/p>
“把這些害蟲扔進(jìn)坑里,”彼得說,“那個矮人就交給他的族人,按他們的方式埋葬他?!?/p>
他們終于在阿斯蘭堡壘的另一間幽暗的地下室里吃上了早餐。要在平時,他們可不會挑這么一頓早餐,凱斯賓和科涅利爾斯想吃鹿肉餡餅,彼得和埃德蒙想要黃油煎蛋和熱咖啡,可每個人面前僅有一小塊冷熊肉(從男孩們口袋里拿出來的)、一塊硬奶酪、一個洋蔥,還有一杯水??蓮乃麄兡抢峭袒⒀实膭艃簛砜?,別人會以為那有多美味。
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(1) Weights and water-bottles:直譯為“重量和水瓶”,這兩個英文單詞押頭韻,不作字面義解,用作感嘆詞。
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