ggk.asongforarbonne-第114部分

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ting。〃
　　Fulk　gave　a　snort　of　amusement。　〃Sounds　good　to　me；〃　he　said。　〃Do　I　get　to　deal　with　your　father？〃
　　Blaise　didn't　smile　this　time。　〃There　are　a　few　people　who　might　want　to　do　that；〃　he　said。
　　〃Including　you？〃　Fulk　turned　to　look　at　him。
　　〃I　suppose　so。〃　He　didn't　meet　the　other　man's　gaze；　and　after　a　moment　Fulk　de　Savaric　turned　away。
　　In　the　distance　to　the　south…west；　clearly　visible　from　this　height　in　the　windswept　winter　air；　Blaise　could　see　the　towers　of　Miraval。　Even　now；　with　all　he　had　learned；　and　with　the　image　of　Duke　Urté；　on　his　knees　before　Signe　de　Barbentain；　then　striding　from　the　council　chamber；　there　was　a　part　of　him　that　could　not　quite　believe　that　fifteen　hundred　fighting　men　would　stay　within　those　walls　if　battle　came。
　　Whether　that　was　cause　for　a　sliver　of　hope　or　a　deeper；　colder　dread　he　did　not　know。
　　What　he　did　know　was　that　he　had　spent　most　of　his　own　life　pursuing　a　dream　or　a　vision　of　Gorhaut；　what　it　should　be；　what　it　once　had　been；　and　that　vision　had　had　Corannos　at　the　very　heart　of　it。　And　now；　having　rashly　claimed　a　crown　for　himself；　he　was　about　to　go　to　battle　amongst　the　men　of　woman…ruled　Arbonne　in　a　goddess's　name　against　his　own　country　and　king…and　father　if　it　came　to　that…and　against　an　army　marching　beneath　the　banner　of　the　god　he　had　vowed　to　serve　with　honour　all　his　days。
　　How；　Blaise　thought；　did　one　trace　back　the　line　of　a　life　to　see　where　the　fork　appeared　that　had　led　to　these　ramparts？　He　couldn't　answer　that。　Perhaps　a　poet　could；　or　a　priestess；　but　he　was　a　soldier　and；　yes；　a　would…be　king；　and　the　time…
　　〃There　they　are；〃　said　Rudel　quietly；　his　archer's　eyes　catching　the　first　far　glint　of　sunlight　finding　metal　among　the　trees。
　　…and　the　time　for　such　thoughts　was　gone　now；　like　a　leaf　on　the　wind；　a　wave　on　the　stony　shore；　like　all　the　mornings　of　the　vanished　past。　The　army　of　Gorhaut　had　e　to　Lake　Dierne。
　　Blaise　saw　them　then；　moving　down　the　road　that　wound　out　of　the　woods；　and　their　banners　were　the　banners　of　his　home；　their　voices…they　could　just　hear　them　now…were　lifted　in　a　song　he　knew；　and　he　could　recognize；　even　from　so　far　because　of　the　clear　light　that　was　Arbonne's；　the　king　he　had　named　a　traitor；　and　the　father　。。。　the　father　whose　long　dream　this　army　was。　He　saw　Ranald　ride　around　the　curve　of　the　road　and；　without　real　surprise；　recognized　the　pennon　of　Andoria　as　Borsiard　appeared　at　the　head　of　his　pany　of　men。　That　is　a　man　I　will　be　happy　to　kill；　he　thought。
　　And　then；　as　if　mocking　such　a　thought；　there　came　into　sight　waving；　jiggling　pikes　carried　by　foot…soldiers；　and　riding　on　the　top　of　some　of　those　pikes；　spitted　like　meat　for　broiling　were　the　severed　heads　of　men。
　　Bertran　de　Talair　made　a　sudden　harsh　gesture　and　a　sound　of　denial　that　might　have　been　a　name；　and　a　moment　later　Blaise　registered　a　memorable　mane　of　blond　hair　and　realized　that　he；　too；　recognized　the　foremost　of　those　severed　heads。　A　sickness　passed　over　him；　forcing　him　to　grip　hard　on　the　stones　of　the　wall　for　support。　A　moment　later　it　grew　even　worse。　In　the　midst　of　the　singing；　gesticulating　army　of　Gorhaut　a　rolling　platform　came　into　view；　and　on　it　they　saw　a　man　bound　naked　to　a　pole　set　in　the　centre　of　the　platform。　His　genitals　were　gone；　there　was　a　blackened　clotting　of　blood　at　his　groin。　Dead　birds…owls；　Blaise　saw…were　slung　in　mockery　from　ropes　around　his　bowed；　averted　neck。
　　He　thought　this　man；　too；　was　dead；　until　the　head　was　somehow　lifted…in　agonized　response　to　what　inner　message；　Blaise　never　knew…and　even　from　the　ramparts　they　could　see　the　holes　where　his　eyes　had　been　gouged　out。
　　Of　course；　Blaise　thought　with　loathing；　fighting　sickness。　It　was　part　of　the　mockery：　the　blindness；　and　the　birds　of　Rian。　And　then；　with　deepening　horror；　Blaise　realized　that　he　knew　this　maimed；　dark…haired　man　as　well。　He　looked　over　again　to　the　head　on　the　highest　of　the　bobbing　pikes　and　then　turned；　speechless；　to　Bertran　de　Talair。　He　saw　that　the　duke　had　lowered　his　head　so　as　not　to　have　to　see。
　　The　landscape　and　the　men　on　the　ramparts　grew　oddly　unfocused；　and　Blaise　became　aware　that　he　was　near　to　weeping；　he　who　had　killed　so　many　men　in　war；　or　beside　the　shore　of　this　same　lake；　or　in　the　close　darkness　of　a　Portezzan　night；　and　had　seen　others　slain　in　terrible　ways；　and　had　regarded　all　of　it　as　no　more　than　the　coinage　of　his　profession。　But　he　had　never　burned　a　helpless　old　woman　naming　her　a　witch；　or　dragged　a　priestess　screaming　from　her　bed；　and　he　had　never　maimed　or　broken　men　in　the　way　that　these　had　been。　This　was　warfare　of　a　different　kind。
　　He　was　remembering；　almost　against　his　will；　Midsummer　Night　in　Tavernel。　Remy　had　been　the　fair…haired　one；　with　more　spirit　and　art　than　mature　wisdom　in　him　perhaps；　and　Aurelian　was　the　darker；　quieter　man。　They　were　musicians；　not　soldiers；　both　of　them；　and　both　were　young。　It　was　these　two　who　had　carried　Beatritz's　tidings　to　Barbentain　from　the　island；　they　must　have　gone　north　together；　Blaise　realized；　after　delivering　the　High　Priestess's　message。　He　didn't　know　why；　they　might　never　know　why。
　　〃Look　there；〃　he　heard　someone　say。　Rudel；　his　voice　strained　in　the　sound　of　the　wind。
　　Blaise　passed　a　hand　across　his　eyes　and　looked　down　again。　Following　where　Rudel　was　pointing；　he　saw；　among　the　army　of　Arbonne　spread　out　below　the　walls；　a　dozen　archers；　crimson…clad；　moving　neatly　forward　from　the　ranks。　He　did　not　know　who　had　given　this　order；　perhaps　no　one　had。　Perhaps　this　was　simply　the　instinctive　response　of　some　of　the　best…trained　men　in　the　country；　those　sworn　to　guard；　and　to　uphold　the　honour　of　the　queen　of　the　Court　of　Love…to　whom　all　the　troubadours　of　Arbonne　had　sworn　their　life's　service　and　devotion。
　　Blaise　saw　the　Carenzu　archers　set　themselves　in　a　line；　draw　back　bowstrings　together　and　then　let　their　arrows　fly；　high　into　the　face　of　the　wind。　Among　the　ranks　of　Gorhaut　a　sudden　volley　of　shouts　brought　the　singing　to　a　ragged　halt；　men　flung　up　shields　and　hastily　lowered　their　helms。
　　They　need　not　have　done　so。　The　arrows　were　not　an　attack。　They　had　been　sent　out　like　arching　prayers；　in　grief　and　passion　and　rage；　in　an　anguished　attempt　to　put　the　ruined　man　on　the　platform　out　of　pain。　Most　fell　short。　Three　did　not；　and　one　of　those　arrows　pierced　him　through　the　heart。　The　dark…haired　man's　head　was　flung　sharply　back　so　the　holes　of　his　eyes　stared　blankly　up　at　the　bright；　lost　sun。　They　saw　his　mouth　open　then　but　no　sound　came　forth。　No　sound　at　all　as　Aurelian　died；　no　last　note　like　a　swan；　though　all　his　days　he　had　been　celebrated　for　the　pure；　transcendent　beauty　of　his　voice。
　　〃Oh；　Lady；〃　whispered　Bertran　de　Talair。　〃Oh；　goddess；　heal　and　shelter　them　now　within　the　infinite　mercy　of　your　arms。〃　Blaise　realized　that　his　own　hands　were　shaking。　He　gripped　them　together　on　the　stone　in　front　of　him。
　　〃You　will　excuse　me；〃　Thierry　de　Carenzu　said；　visibly　working　to　maintain　his　posure。　〃I　think　I　must　go　down　and　tell　Ariane。　She　ought　not　to　learn　this　from　anyone　else。〃
　　Blaise　said　nothing。　He　could　think　of　nothing　to　say。　There　was　someone　else；　he　thought　suddenly；　who　ought　properly　to　hear　of　these　two　deaths　from　someone　who　cared　for　her；　but　he　didn't　know　where　Lisseut　was；　and　he　didn't　think　it　was　his　place；　given　who　had　done　this　thing。　He　watched　his　father　remove　his　war　helm　in　the　valley　below　and　then　his　tall；　handsome；　anointed　king　did　the　same。　Blaise's　eyes　were　dry　and　his　hands　grew　steady　then　as　he　looked　down　at　the　two　of　them。
　　
　　In　this　windy　green　valley　by　Lake　Dierne；　Ademar　of　Gorhaut　is　a　happy　man。　The　presence　of　the　Arbonnais　army　here　before　them　is　a　surprise　of　sorts；　but　not　an　unpleasant　one。　The　High　Elder　has　been　telling　him　from　the　beginning　that　this　lake　will　see　the　battle　that　ends　Arbonne。　They　had　expected　things　to　follow　a　slightly　different　sequence；　anticipating　that　it　would　be　their　sacking　and　burning　of　the　Isle　of　Rian　that　would　bring　the　goddess…afflicted　soldiers　of　this　land　out　from　their　walls　to　battle。
　　They　did　not