ggk.thelionsofal-rassan-第90部分

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　　The　governor　of　Fezana　had　been　born　in　Aljais。
　　He　had　known　ibn　Khairan　from　the　poet's　boyhood　in　that　city。　Concerning　a　number　of　the　tales　emerging　from　that　reckless；　not…too…distant　time　he　had　a　first…hand　awareness。　It　was　his　own　considered　judgment　that　any　prince　being　counselled　by　the　man　that　boy　had　bee　was　someone　a　prudent　administrator　would　do　well　to　cultivate。
　　He　had　been　proved　right；　of　course；　though　greatly　unnerved　when　the　young　king　had　promptly　sent　ibn　Khairan　into　exile。　When　he　learned　that　the　exiled　courtier　was　in　Ragosa　he　conveyed；　by　indirect　means；　his　good　wishes　to　him　there。　At　the　same　time；　he　continued　to　serve　the　younger　Almalik　with　the　diligence　he　had　applied　to　the　father's　interests。　One　remained　in　office…and　wealthy；　and　alive…by　such　petence　as　much　as　by　luck　or　scenting　shifts　in　the　wind。　He　stole　very　little；　and　with　discretion。
　　He　was　also　careful　not　to　make　assumptions。　So　when　the　unexpected；　indeed　startling；　parias　demand　from　Ruenda　arrived　by　royal　herald　early　in　the　spring；　the　governor　sent　it　on　to　Cartada　without　ment。
　　He　might　form　conjectures　as　to　how　this　demand　had　emerged；　and　even　admire　the　subtlety　that　had　produced　it；　but　it　was　not　his　place；　unless　invited　by　his　king；　to　offer　opinions　about　any　of　this。
　　His　tasks　were　more　pragmatic。　He　fortified　and　rebuilt　Fezana's　walls　and　defenses　as　best　he　could；　given　a　dispirited　populace。　Having　spent　years　dealing　with　a　dangerously　rebellious　city；　the　governor　judged　he　could　cope　with　enervated　depression　for　a　time。　The　additional　Muwardis　in　the　new　wing　of　the　castle　were　not　especially　good　at　wall…building…desert　warriors　could　hardly　be　expected　to　be…but　they　were　being　well　paid　and　he　had　no　punctions　about　putting　them　to　work。
　　He　was　aware　of　the　religious　broadsides　being　posted　about　the　city　that　winter；　as　he　was　aware　of　most　things　in　his　city。　He　judged　that　the　wadjis　of　Cartada　were　being　allowed　some　leeway　by　the　new　king　as　a　conciliatory　gesture；　and　that　this　was　spreading　to　the　other　cities　of　the　kingdom。　He　had　the　prostitutes　harassed　a　little　more　than　usual。　A　few　Jaddite　taverns　were　closed。　The　governor　quietly　augmented　his　own　stock　of　wine　from　the　confiscations　that　acpanied　this。　Such　actions　were　normal；　though　the　times　were　not。
　　The　Kindath　were　receiving　rather　more　vituperation　than　was　customary。　This　didn't　particularly　distress　him。　He　didn't　like　the　Kindath。　They　seemed　always　to　have　an　air…even　the　women…of　knowing　things　he　didn't。　Secrets　of　the　world。　The　future　mapped　in　their　wandering　moons。　This　made　him　nervous。　If　the　wadjis　chose　to　preach　against　the　Wanderers　more　ferociously　than　in　the　recent　past；　it　was　apparently　with　the　king's　approval　or　acceptance　and　the　governor　was　certainly　not　about　to　intervene。
　　He　had　graver　concerns　that　year。
　　Fezana　wasn't　fortifying　its　walls　or　adding　Muwardis　to　the　garrison　simply　to　keep　soldiers　busy。　There　was　a　mood　in　the　north　this　season　that　augured　ill　for　the　future；　whether　mapped　in　the　Kindath　moons　or　not。
　　Even　so；　the　governor；　being　deeply　cautious　by　nature；　couldn't　quite　believe　that　Ramiro　of　Valledo　would　be　foolish　enough　to　e　and　make　war　here；　laying　a　siege　so　far　from　his　own　lands。　Valledo　was　being　paid　parias　from　Fezana　twice　a　year。　Why　would　any　rational　man　risk　life　and　his　kingdom's　stability　to　conquer　a　city　that　was　already　filling　his　coffers　with　gold？　Among　other　things；　a　Valledan　army　ing　down　through　the　tagra　lands　meant　extreme　vulnerability　back　home…to　Jalona　or　Ruenda。
　　On　the　other　hand；　the　governor　had　heard　along　with　everyone　else　tidings　of　that　Jaddite　army　assembling　in　Batiara；　due　to　sail　east　this　spring　for　Ammuz　and　Soriyya。
　　That　sort　of　thing　could　set　a　very　bad　example；　the　governor　of　Fezana　thought。
　　Spring　came。　The　Tavares　rose　and　subsided　without　undue　flooding。　In　the　temples　Ashar　and　the　holy　stars　of　the　god　were　ritually　thanked　for　that。　Fields　made　rich　by　the　river　were　tilled　and　sown。　Flowers　bloomed　in　the　gardens　of　Fezana　and　outside　the　walls。　There　were　melons　and　cherries　in　the　market　and　on　his　table。　The　governor　was　fond　of　melon。
　　Word　came　down　through　the　tagra　lands　of　a　gathering　of　the　three　Jaddite　kings　in　Carcasia。
　　This　was　not　a　good　thing；　by　any　measure。　He　relayed　the　information　to　Cartada。　Almost　immediately　afterwards；　further　tidings　came　that　the　gathering　had　ended　in　violence；　after　an　attempt　on　the　life　of　either　the　king　or　queen　or　perhaps　the　constable　of　Valledo。
　　Information　from　the　north　was　seldom　clear；　sometimes　it　was　almost　useless。　This　was　no　exception。　The　governor　didn't　know　who；　if　anyone；　had　been　injured　or　killed；　or　who　was　behind　it。　He　passed　this　word　along　as　well；　however；　for　what　it　was　worth。
　　He　received　swift　messages　back　from　Cartada：　continue　work　on　the　walls；　store　up　food　and　drink。　Keep　the　wadjis　happy　and　the　Muwardis　in　good　order。　Post　watchmen　near　the　tagra　lands。　Be　endlessly　vigilant；　in　the　name　of　Ashar　and　the　kingdom。
　　None　of　this　was　reassuring。　He　did　all　of　these　things　petently　in　an　increasingly　nervous　city。　The　governor　discovered　that　he　wasn't　enjoying　his　melon　in　the　morning　as　much　as　he　was　wont　to　do。　His　stomach　seemed　to　be　vexing　him。
　　Then　the　child　died　in　the　tannery。
　　And　that　very　day　came　word　that　the　Valledan　army　had　been　seen。　South　of　the　tagra　lands；　in　Al…Rassan；　banners　flying。
　　An　army。　A　very　large　army；　ing　swiftly。　For　the　first　time　in　hundreds　of　years　the　Horsemen　of　Jad　were　riding　towards　his　city。　It　was　folly；　the　governor　thought　agitatedly。　Sheerest　folly！　What　was　King　Ramiro　doing？
　　And　what　could　a　prudent；　diligent　civil　servant　do　when　the　kings　of　the　world　went　mad？
　　Or　when　his　own　people　did；　that　same　day？
　　Sometimes　events　in　far…distant　places　speak　with　a　single　voice　of　a　changed　mood；　a　turning　of　the　world　towards　darkness　or　light。　It　was　remembered　long　years　afterwards　that　the　Kindath　massacres　in　Sorenica　and　Fezana　occurred　within　half　a　year　of　each　other。　One　was　achieved　by　Jaddite　soldiers　wild　with　boredom；　the　other　by　Asharite　citizens　in　a　frenzy　of　fear。　The　effects　were　not　dissimilar。
　　In　Fezana　it　began　with　a　child's　fever。　The　daughter　of　a　tanner；　one　ibn　Shapur；　contracted　an　illness　that　spring。　The　poorer　laborers　lived　nearest　to　the　river　and　in　the　flooding　season　sickness　was　mon；　especially　among　children　and　the　aged。
　　The　child's　parents；　unable　or　unwilling　to　pay　for　the　services　of　a　physician；　utilized　instead　the　ancient　remedy　of　placing　her　on　a　pallet　in　the　tannery　itself。　The　noxious　fumes　were　thought　to　drive　away　the　evil　presence　of　illness。　It　was　a　healing　that　had　been　in　use　for　centuries。
　　It　so　happened　that　day　that　a　Kindath　merchant；　ben　Mores　by　name；　was　at　the　tannery　buying　hides　for　export　to　the　east　by　way　of　Salos　then　down　the　coast　and　through　the　straits。
　　While　expertly　appraising　the　finished　and　unfinished　leathers　in　the　yard　he　heard　the　crying　child。　Informed　of　what　was　being　done；　the　Kindath　merchant　loudly　and　profanely　began　slandering　the　parents　of　the　girl　and　proceeded　to　stride　into　the　tannery　and　lay　hands　upon　the　child…which　was　forbidden。　Ignoring　protests；　he　carried　her　out　from　the　healing　place　and　into　the　chill　of　the　spring　air。
　　He　was　continuing　to　shout　imprecations　when　ibn　Shapur；　observing　his　small　daughter　being　dishonored　and　abducted　by　one　of　the　Kindath…knowing　that　this　evil　people　used　children's　blood　in　their　foul　rites；　ran　up　and　struck　the　merchant　on　the　head　from　behind　with　a　tanner's　hook；　killing　him　instantly。　It　was　mon　agreement　afterwards　that　ibn　Shapur　had　never　been　considered　a　violent　man。
　　The　child　fell　to　the　ground；　crying　piteously。　Her　father　picked　her　up；　accepted　the　grim　congratulations　of　his　fellows；　and　carried　her　back　into　the　tannery。　For　the　rest　of　the　day　the　Kindath　merchant's　body　was　left　where　it　had　fallen　in　the　yard。　Flies　gathered　upon　him　in　the　sun。　Dogs　came　over　and　licked　at　his　blood。
　　The　child　died；　just　before　sunset。
　　The　Kindath's　touch　had　cursed　her；　the　leather　workers　agreed；　lingering　after　work；　angrily　discussing　the　matter　in　the　yard。　She　had　been　surely　on　the　mend　before　that。　Children　died　when　Kindath　laid　hands　upon　them；　it　was　a　fact。　A　wadji　arrived　in　the　yard；　no　one　later　remembered　who　had　summoned　him。　When　informed　of　what　had　transpired　the　pious　man　threw　up　his　hands　in　horror。
　　Someone　pointed　out　at　about　that　point；　echoing　a　verse　widely　posted　and　recited　earlier　in　the　year；　that　none　of　the　Kindath　had　died　in　the　Day　of　the　Moat…not　one。　Only　good　Asharites。　They　are　a　poison　in　our　midst；　this　same　man　cried。　They　kill　our　children　and　our　leaders；　both。
　　The　body　of　the　slain　merchant　was　dragged　from　the　place　where　it　had　been　lying。　It　was　mutilated　and　abused。　The　wadji；　watching；　made　no　remonstration。　Someone　had　the　idea　of　decapitating　the　dead　man　and　throwing　his　corpse　into　the　moat。　The　head　was　cut　off。　The　crowd　of　tanners　l