ggk.thelionsofal-rassan-第46部分

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　　At　least；　Ammar　had　thought；　it　isn't　only　me。
　　There　had　been　uncontrolled　noise　by　then；　delirious；　deafeningly　loud。　Screaming　from　up　on　the　walls　and　from　the　royal　stand　by　the　lists。　Hats　and　scarves　and　gloves　and　leather　flasks　of　wine　sailing　through　the　air　to　land　about　them。　It　had　all　seemed　to　be　ing　from　a　long　way　off。
　　He　had　tried；　out　of　habit；　to　be　sardonic。　〃Shall　we　kill　each　other　for　them　now；　to　set　a　seal　on　it？〃　he'd　said。
　　The　men　they'd　defeated　were　being　helped　to　their　feet；　those　who　could　rise。　One　man；　the　Karcher；　had　a　broken　arm　from　the　flat　of　a　sword。　Another　was　unable　to　stand；　they　were　carrying　him　away　on　a　litter。　A　woman's　pale　blue　scarf；　drifting　down　through　the　sunlight；　had　fallen　across　his　body。　Ammar　could　only　vaguely　remember　having　faced　the　man　with　the　broken　arm。　It　had　been　at　the　very　outset。　He　could　not　clearly　recall　the　blow；　the　sequence　of　it。　Too　strange；　that　was。
　　Rodrigo　Belmonte　had　not　laughed　at　his　attempted　jest；　or　smiled；　standing　beside　him　amid　that　huge　and　distant　noise。
　　〃Do　we　want　a　seal　on　it？〃　he'd　asked。
　　Ammar　had　shaken　his　head。　They　had　stood　alone　in　the　middle　of　the　world。　A　small；　still　space。　Dreamlike。　Clothing；　flowers　now；　more　wine　flasks；　flying　through　the　autumn　air。　So　much　noise。
　　〃Not　yet；〃　he'd　said。　〃No。　It　may　e；　though。　Whether　we　want　it　or　not。〃
　　Rodrigo　had　been　silent　a　moment；　the　grey　eyes　calm　beneath　an　old　helm　with　the　figure　of　an　eagle　on　it。　From　the　king's　stand　a　herald　was　approaching；　formally　garbed；　gracious；　deeply　deferential。
　　Just　before　he　reached　them；　the　Valledan　had　said　softly；　〃If　it　es；　it　es。　The　god　determines　all。　I　never　did　anything　like　this；　though；　in　all　my　life。　Not　fighting　beside　another　man。〃
　　A　star　fell　into　the　darkness　of　the　hills　west　of　the　lake。　Ibn　Khairan　heard　footsteps　behind　him。　They　paused；　and　then　withdrew。　One　person。　A　watchman。　No　danger。　There　wouldn't　be　danger　here；　in　any　case。
　　He　was　very　tired；　but　his　mind　would　not　allow　him　rest。　The　high　white　moon　laid　a　shining；　rippled　track　on　the　water；　the　blue　crescent　cast　a　faint　one　from　the　east。　They　met　where　he　stood。　This　was　a　property　of　water　at　night。　Light　flowed　along　it　to　where　one　stood。
　　I　earned　a　goodly　portion　of　my　wages　today；　he　thought。　Wages。　He　was　a　mercenary　soldier　now；　in　the　service　of　a　king　who　would　be　happy　to　see　Cartada　in　ruins。　Who　might　decide　to　send　an　army　west　to　achieve　that　in　the　spring。　Ammar；　by　his　contract；　would　be　a　part　of　that　army；　a　leader　of　it。　He　wasn't　used　to　such　shiftings　of　allegiance。
　　He　had　killed　Almalik。　Twenty　years'　panion。　The　slow　rise　and　then　the　swift　rise　to　power　together。　Men　changed　over　the　years。　Power　ebbed　and　flowed；　and　did　things　to　them。　Time　and　the　stars　turned　and　men　changed。
　　The　man　he'd　slain　was　the　only　person　he　could　ever　have　called　a　friend　in　the　world；　even　though　one　didn't　use　that　word　of　kings。　He'd　sung　his　lament　tonight。　Mazur　ben　Avren's　request；　meant　to　wound。　A　subtle　mind；　that。　But　he'd　already　been　working　on　the　verses　during　the　ride　east　with　Zabira。　Had　offered　them　this　evening　to　a　banquet　hall　of　Cartada's　enemies。　A　room　with　a　stream　running　through　it。　Water　again。　Ashar's　dream　amid　the　desert　sands。　It　was　an　affectation；　that　banquet　room；　but　impressive　nonetheless；　and　tastefully　done。　He　could　e　to　like　Badir　of　Ragosa；　he　told　himself；　could　respect　Mazur　ben　Avren。　There　was　a　life　beyond　Cartada；　with　scope　and　sweep。
　　Where　lesser　beasts　now　gather　。。。　
　　He　shook　his　head。　Turned　away　from　the　lake　and　started　back；　with　the　wind　and　the　moons　behind　him　now。
　　
　　From　the　shadows　by　the　oak…timbered　wall　of　a　warehouse　she　saw　him　leave　the　water's　edge　and　the　outthrust　arms　of　the　city　walls。　She　had　retreated　here　to　wait；　after　walking　almost　to　the　pier。　As　he　approached　she　saw…her　eyes　by　now　adjusted　to　the　moonlight…an　odd；　inward　look　to　his　face　and　she　was　half…inclined　to　let　him　pass。　But　even　as　that　thought　formed　she　realized　that　she　had　stepped　forward　into　the　street　after　all。
　　He　stopped。　His　hand　moved　to　his　sword　and　then　she　saw　that　he　knew　her。　She　expected　something　ironic；　a　jest。　Her　heart　was　beating　rapidly。
　　〃Jehane　bet　Ishak。　What　are　you　doing　abroad　at　night？〃
　　〃Walking；〃　she　said。　〃The　same　as　you。〃
　　〃Not　the　same　at　all。　It　isn't　safe　for　a　woman。　There's　no　point　to　being　foolish。〃　
　　She　felt　a　useful　flare　of　anger。　〃I　do　wonder　how　I've　survived　this　long　in　Ragosa　without　your　guidance。〃
　　He　was　silent。　He　still　had　that　strange　look　to　him。　She　wondered　what　had　driven　him　to　the　lake。　She　hadn't　e　out　to　quarrel；　although　she　couldn't　have　said　why　she　had　e。　She　changed　her　tone。　〃I　am　known　here；〃　she　murmured。　〃There　is　no　real　danger。〃
　　〃In　the　dark？　On　the　waterfront？〃　He　raised　his　eyebrows。　〃You　could　be　killed　for　your　cloak　or　merely　because　of　your　religion。　Where's　your　servant？〃
　　〃Velaz？　Asleep；　I　hope。　He's　had　a　long　day　and　night。〃
　　〃And　you？〃
　　〃Long　enough；〃　she　said。　〃Where　you　injured　I　tried　to　heal。　I've　e　from　the　infirmary。〃　What　was　it；　she　asked　herself；　that　kept　causing　her　to　challenge　him？
　　He　looked　at　her。　The　steady；　unrevealing　gaze。　The　pearl　in　his　ear　gleamed　palely　in　the　moonlight。　He　said；　〃It's　too　cold　to　stand　here。　e。〃　He　started　walking　again；　back　towards　the　center　of　the　city。
　　She　fell　into　stride。　The　wind　was　behind　them；　cutting　through　her　cloak。　It　was　cold；　and　despite　what　she'd　implied；　Jehane　was　unused　to　being　abroad　this　late。　In　fact；　the　last　time　had　been　the　night　of　the　day　she　met　this　man。　The　Day　of　the　Moat。　She　had　thought　it　had　been　his　savage　device；　that　slaughter　of　innocent　men。　All　of　Al…Rassan　had　thought　so。
　　She　said；　〃I　remember　what　you　said　in　Fezana。　That　it　was　none　of　your　doing。〃
　　〃You　didn't　believe　me。〃
　　〃Yes；　I　did。〃
　　He　glanced　at　her。　They　continued　walking。
　　She　had　seen　him　go　by　earlier；　from　the　doorway　of　the　infirmary。　Her　two　patients　had　been　sleeping；　one　drugged　against　the　pain　of　a　shattered　arm；　the　other　still　deeply　confused；　a　contusion　the　size　of　an　ostrich　egg　on　the　side　of　his　head。　Jehane　had　left　instructions　that　he　be　awakened　after　each　of　the　night　bells。　Too　deep　a　sleep　tonight　carried　a　risk。
　　She　had　been　standing　near　the　open　doorway；　breathing　the　night　air；　struggling　against　fatigue；　when　ibn　Khairan　went　past。　She　had　put　on　her　cloak　and　followed　him；　without　thinking　about　it；　no　reason　save　impulse　for　justification。
　　They　had　done　something　astonishing　that　day；　he　and　Rodrigo　Belmonte。　Two　men　against　five　and　had　she　not　known　better　it　might　have　seemed　that　the　five　had　consented　to　be　cut　down；　so　swift　and　crisply　defined　and　elegant　had　it　been。　She　did　know　better；　though。　She　was　treating　two　of　the　five　tonight。　The　Karcher　with　the　broken　arm　was　struggling　to　deal　with　what　had　happened。　He　was　bitter；　humiliated。　Not　a　man　accustomed　to　losing　battles。　Not　that　way；　at　any　rate。
　　Stepping　out　into　the　street　after　ibn　Khairan　Jehane　had　been　awkwardly　aware　that　there　were　other　kinds　of　women　who　did　this　sort　of　thing；　especially　after　what　had　happened　today。　She　half…expected　to　see　some　of　them　trailing　behind　the　man；　adorned；　perfumed。　Pursuing　the　hero　of　the　moment；　approaching　to　touch…to　be　touched　by…glory；　the　shimmer　that　clung　to　fame。　She　had　nothing　but　contempt　for　such　women。
　　What　she'd　done　in　following　him　was　not　remotely　the　same　thing；　she　told　herself。　She　wasn't　young　or　bedazzled；　she　wore　a　plain　white　cloth　cap　to　keep　her　hair　from　her　eyes　while　she　worked；　no　jewelry；　mud…stained　boots。　She　was　level…headed；　a　physician；　and　observant。
　　〃Weren't　you　hurt　this　afternoon？〃　she　said；　glancing　sideways　and　up　at　him。　〃I　thought　I　saw　you　take　a　sword　in　the　leg。〃
　　He　looked　dryly　amused；　an　expression　she　remembered。　〃A　scratch；　truly。　One　of　them　caught　me　with　his　blade　when　he　fell。　It　is　kind　of　you　to　ask；　doctor。　How　are　your　patients？〃
　　She　shrugged。　〃The　broken　arm　will　be　all　right。　It　set　easily　enough。　The　Batiaran　that　Ser　Rodrigo　felled　was　still　having　trouble　remembering　his　mother's　name　before　he　fell　asleep。〃
　　Ibn　Khairan　grinned；　the　white　teeth　flashing。　〃Now　that　is　serious。　If　it　were　his　father's　name；　of　course；　I'd　call　that　normal　for　Batiara。〃
　　〃Go　ahead　and　jest；〃　she　said；　refusing　to　laugh。　〃You　don't　have　to　deal　with　it。〃　A　silly　thing　to　say。
　　〃I'm　so　sorry；〃　he　murmured；　all　solicitude。　〃Did　I　add　to　your　burdens　today？〃
　　She　winced。　She'd　asked　for　that。　It　was　important　to　watch　what　one　said　with　this　man。　He　was　as　sharp　as　Mazur　was。　At　least　as　sharp。
　　〃How　is　your　father？〃　he　said；　changing　tone。　She　glanced　over　in　surprise　and　then　away。　She　had　a　clear　memory；　as　they　walked　through　the　dark　streets；　of　this　man　on　his　knees　before　Ishak　last　summer；　their　hands　clasped　together。
　　〃My　parents　are　well　enough；　I　thank　you。　My　father　。。。　has　dictated　some　letters　to　me　since　that　night　in　Fezana。　I　believe　that　。。。　speaking　wit