ggk.asongforarbonne-第88部分

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f　assuaging　Evrard's　wounded　sensibilities　last　spring。　Is　it　true；　Blaise？〃
　　He　was　slowly　shaking　his　head；　though　in　wonder；　not　denial。　〃I　thought　he　was　a　pompous；　offensive　fool；　but　Mallin　asked　me　to　bring　him　back　so　I　did。　Unconscious；　actually。　My　panion。〃　He　snorted。　〃We　slung　him　like　a　sack　of　grain　into　a　skiff。　I　wouldn't　have　been　greatly　distressed　if　he'd　fallen　overboard。〃　He　shook　his　head　again；　as　if　bemused　by　the　memory。　〃I　thought　all　the　troubadours　were　like　that。〃
　　〃And　all　the　joglars？　Do　you　still　think　so？〃　
　　〃Hardly；〃　he　said　directly；　not　bothering　to　make　a　jest　of　it　or　a　pliment；　or　anything　at　all。　He　met　her　gaze　for　a　moment；　and　it　was　Lisseut　who　looked　away；　out　the　window。　There　was　silence　then　for　a　while。　She　sat　gazing　out　at　the　late…night　stars；　listening　to　the　river。　It　was　not　a　difficult　stillness；　she　decided。
　　〃May　I　ask　something　of　you？〃　he　said　at　length；　quietly。　She　looked　back　at　him。　〃I　am　genuinely　weary；　Lisseut。　I　'm　afraid　I　m　too　tired　to　entertain　you　properly；　I'm　almost　too　tired　to　sleep；　and　there　is　a　great　deal　to　be　done　tomorrow。　I　don't　know　if　this　is　an　imposition；　something　one　doesn't　ask　of　a　professional；　but　will　you　sing　for　me；　to　help　me　rest？〃　A　faint　smile　in　the　flickering　light。　〃To　show　me　again　that　all　of　you　aren't　like　Evrard？〃
　　〃I　didn't　think　you　liked　music。〃　She　was　sorry　the　moment　she'd　said　that。　Why　was　she　always　challenging　him？　
　　He　didn't　take　offense；　or　else　he　was　being　very　patient　with　her。　〃If　I　said　that　I　regret　it。　I　grew　up　with　music　in　Gorhaut；　however　different　it　might　have　been。　One　day　I　will　want　to　try　to　explain　to　you　that　my　country　is　not　only　。。。　what　it　has　been　made　to　be　tonight。〃　He　hesitated；　choosing　his　words。　〃I　think　there　are　。。。　parts　of　the　troubadour　world　here；　courtly　love；　that　I　find　unsettling。　Perhaps　I　needed　time　to　understand　it　better。　I　thought　once　it　made　your　men　weak；　your　women　presumptuous。〃　He　paused　again。　〃There　is　no　weakness　I　have　found　in　the　men　of　Arbonne。〃
　　〃And　the　women？〃
　　He　had　been　waiting　for　that；　she　realized。　〃The　women　are　intolerably　presumptuous。〃　She　knew　that　tone　though；　by　now；　and　he　was　grinning　at　her　again；　tired　as　he　was。　She　found　that　she　could　smile　back。
　　〃I　will　be　happy　to　sing　for　you；〃　she　said　quietly。　〃It　is　no　imposition。　Not　when　asked　of　a　friend。〃　There；　she　had　said　it。
　　He　looked　surprised　again；　but　not　unfortably　so。　He　opened　his　mouth　and　closed　it。　She　silently　willed　him　to　voice　whatever　thought　he　was　struggling　with；　but　all　he　said　after　a　moment　was；　〃Thank　you。〃　He　rose；　with　a　difficulty　he　didn't　bother　to　hide；　and　limped　over　to　stretch　out　on　the　bed。　He　pulled　off　his　boots　but　didn't　bother　with　the　covers　or　his　clothing。
　　Nothing　of　any　great　import　had　been　done；　nothing　said；　but　Lisseut　stood　up　as　well；　feeling　a　warmth　inside　and　an　unexpected　calm。　Moving　quietly　about　the　room　she　began　blowing　out　the　candles。　She　left　two　burning；　one　on　the　sideboard　and　one　on　the　small　table　by　the　window；　and　then；　in　the　near　darkness；　she　began　to　sing。　Not　of　love　or　war　or　the　goddess　or　the　god；　or　anything　at　all　of　the　adult　world。　On　the　night　he　had　named　himself　king　of　Gorhaut；　the　night　Aubry　had　burned；　Lisseut　sang　for　Blaise　of　Gorhaut　lullabies　of　childhood；　the　ones　her　mother　had　sung　to　her　so　many　years　ago。
　　Only　when　she　was　certain；　from　the　steady　rise　and　fall　of　his　breathing；　that　he　was　asleep　did　she　allow　herself　a　last　song　for　her　own　heart's　easing。　It　was　another　very　old　melody　this　one；　so　ancient　no　one　was　certain　who　had　written　it；　or　even　what　dim；　half…remembered　legend　or　tale　it　recounted。　It　had　always　seemed　to　Lisseut　to　be　almost　unbearably　sad。　She　had　never　thought　she　would　feel　it　applying　to　her　own　life。　But　in　Blaise　de　Garsenc's　room　that　night；　while　he　slept；　she　sang　it　softly　for　herself；　and　when　she　came　to　the　verses　at　the　end；　she　realized　that　she　was　very　nearly　offering　them　as　a　prayer：
　　Thy　table　set　with　rarest　wine；　
　　Choice　meats；　sweet　ripened　fruit　
　　And　candlelight　when　we　dine　
　　In　Fionvarre。
　　On　we　two　the　high　stars　will　shine　
　　And　the　holy　moon　lend　her　light。　
　　If　not　here　you　will　be　mine　
　　In　Fionvarre。
　　Her　uncle　had　taught　her　that　song　in　Vezét；　long　before　he　had　taken　her　from　her　father's　house　and　offered　her　the　life　of　the　singers　on　the　road。　And　the　roads　had　been　good　to　her；　had　given　her　friends　and　panions；　a　generous　measure　of　success；　fame　almost；　and　they　had　led　her　here　tonight；　following；　as　ever；　the　quick　impulses　of　her　spirit；　and　now　the　unbidden　need　of　her　heart。
　　Strangely　at　peace　now；　Lisseut　realized　that　she　had　e　looking　for　an　answer　in　this　room　and　she　had　found　it　after　all。　This　was　not　a　man　whose　life　she　had　a　right　to　share。　He　was　a　friend；　she　knew　that　now；　knew　that　he　would　make　some　place　for　her　in　the　pattern　of　his　days；　however　long　or　short　they　were　to　be。　But　for　more　than　that；　more　than　that　small　place；　she　had　no　right　and　he　no　proper　space　in　what　his　life　had　now　bee。　The　banner　in　the　wind　this　morning　had　made　this　so。
　　And　it　would　be　all　right；　Lisseut　thought；　as　she　ended　the　song。　She　was　no　longer　a　child。　Life　did　not　always　or　even　normally　grant　one　the　wishes　of　the　heart。　Sometimes　it　came　near；　sometimes　not　very　near　at　all。　She　would　accept；　with　gratitude；　what　seemed　to　have　been　allowed　her　tonight…with　a　hope；　a　prayer　to　Rian；　that　there　might　be　more　such　moments　graciously　allowed；　before　the　goddess　called　either　or　both　of　them　back　to　her。
　　She　left　him　sleeping；　with　the　last　two　candles　burning　down　and　the　moons　long　set　and　the　river　murmuring　its　own　infinitely　older；　endless　song　far　below　the　window。
　　
　　PART　IV…Winter
　　Until　the　Sun　Falls　and　the　Moons　Die　。。。　
　　CHAPTER　15
　　On　the　night　appointed　there　was　fog　at　Garsenc　Castle。　Rolling　in　from　the　east　with　the　darkness　at　day's　end　it　swallowed　up　the　donjon　and　the　outer　watch…towers　of　the　castle　like　some　mist…dragon　out　of　the　old　tales　of　the　days　before　Corannos　moved　the　sun。
　　Alone　on　the　ramparts　above　the　drawbridge　Thaune　of　Garsenc　shivered；　despite　the　woolen　overshirt　and　the　fur　vest　he　wore　in　winter。　He　was　thinking　about　an　oath　he　had　sworn　three　months　ago；　a　vow　of　fealty　that　had　turned　him　from　a　coran　of　humble　birth　and　modest　future　into　a　conspirator　with　a　substantial　prospect　of　dying　before　this　night　was　over。
　　He　watched　his　breath　make　puffs　of　smoke　in　the　grey　cold；　adding　to　the　fog；　he　couldn't　see　any　further　than　that。　The　moons　were　invisible；　of　course；　and　the　stars。　They　had　chosen　a　time　when　both　moons　should　have　been　bright　and　high；　lending　light　for　the　crossing　of　the　pass；　but　men　could　not　control　what　the　god　sent　in　the　way　of　weather；　and　more　than　one　campaign　of　the　past…including　the　not…so…distant　past…had　been　undone　by　the　elements。　He　remembered　the　savage　cold　at　Iersen　Bridge。　He　would　always　remember　that。　He　placed　both　hands　on　the　stone　and　peered　out　into　the　swirling　grey　darkness。　Nothing。　There　could　have　been　a　hundred　men　below　him　outside　the　walls；　and　if　they　were　quiet　enough　not　he　nor　anyone　else　in　Garsenc　would　have　known　they　were　there。
　　From　the　small　guardhouse　beside　the　portcullis　he　heard　the　murmur　of　voices。　There　were　four　men　posted　at　night。　They　would　be　playing　at　dice　by　firelight。　He　couldn't　even　see　the　light　down　there　through　the　fog。　It　didn't　matter。　He　could　hear　the　voices；　muffled　in　the　grey　ness；　and　three　of　them　were　with　him。　The　fourth　would　be　dealt　with；　as　necessary。
　　Not　killed　though。　His　instructions　had　been　clear。　Blaise　de　Garsenc　wanted　a　minimum　of　killing　in　these　first　days。　He　seemed　to　have　known　exactly　what　he　wanted；　even　back　in　the　autumn；　in　the　days　after　his　first　declaration。　He　had　sent　Thaune　north　among　the　other　corans　of　Gorhaut　to　carry　word　freely　of　what　had　been　done　and　said　before　that　challenge　at　the　fair。　All　the　Gorhautians　attending　the　fair　had　been　assembled　in　an　enormous　room　in　Barbentain；　Thaune　remembered；　and　after　the　countess　of　Arbonne　had　ordered　them　out　of　the　country　and　confiscated　their　goods　Blaise　had　spoken　to　them　with　a　cool　precision　that　had　been　genuinely　impressive。　Because　of　the　Treaty　of　Iersen　Bridge；　he'd　said…a　treaty　that　was　a　betrayal　in　itself…King　Ademar　was　about　to　embroil　Gorhaut　in　another　war　here　in　Arbonne。　It　was　a　war　they　did　not　need；　brought　on　by　a　treaty　that　should　never　have　been　signed。　He　invited　those　assembled　to　think　about　his　words；　and　he　promised　they　would　be　allowed　passage　north　through　the　mountains　unharmed。
　　They　had　even　contrived　a　pretended　assassination　attempt；　an　arrow　landing　carefully　short　of　Blaise　as　he　walked　out　from　the　castle　the　next　morning。　The　tournament　melee　had　been　cancelled；　in　the　wake　of　the　events　at　Aubry　and　in　the　watch…tower　south　of　the　pass：　they　had　found　the　three　maimed　guards　by　then。　The　court　of　Signe　de　Barbentain　had　collectively　attended　mourning　services　in　the　Temple　of　Rian；　and　in　their　mid