ggk.asongforarbonne-第122部分

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denial；　and　the　numbness　that　had　fallen　upon　him　like　a　blanket　of　fog　when　Ranald　died　was　finally　pushed　away。
　　Blaise　looked　around；　as　if　seeing　the　field　clearly　for　the　first　time　and　in　doing　so　he　pushed　past　his　inward　griefs　and　accepted　the　role　that　lay　waiting　for　him；　the　burden　that　had　been　his　from　the　moment　he'd　claimed　a　crown。
　　He　was　manding　the　left　flank；　with　him　were　Rudel　and　Fulk　and　the　barons　and　corans　of　southern　Arbonne；　including　Mallin　de　Baude。　Bertran　and　Valery　held　the　centre；　mostly　with　the　men　of　Talair；　and　Thierry　de　Carenzu；　with　the　corans　of　the　east；　was　on　the　right。　As　best　he　could　tell…eyes　narrowed　in　the　sunlight…they　were　still　holding　ground　on　all　fronts。　He　could　see　Ademar　in　the　forefront　of　the　Gorhaut　army；　not　far　from　Bertran　in　fact；　though　there　were　hundreds　of　men　between　them。　Galbert　was　beside　the　king；　a　black　mace　in　his　right　hand。　Even　as　Blaise　watched；　his　father　leaned　over　in　his　saddle；　huge；　powerful；　to　hammer　the　mace　into　the　skull　of　an　Arbonnais　pikeman。　The　man　didn't　even　have　a　chance　to　scream　as　his　head　was　crushed。　He　crumpled　to　the　earth　like　so　much　spilled　grain。
　　Men　died　in　battle。　People　one　had　known　and　loved　died　in　battles。　You　could　not　let　that　make　you　falter。　They　were　holding　ground；　but　they　were　not　going　to　do　so　for　much　longer。　Blaise；　in　the　grip　of　a　sudden　clarity；　made　his　decision。
　　And　that　same　swift　clear…headedness　made　him　understand　that　this；　too；　was　one　of　the　things　that　came　with　the　role　on　the　world's　stage　that　he'd　claimed　for　himself：　one　gave　orders　in　a　battle　such　as　this　that　could　shape　the　destinies　of　nations。
　　It　was　true；　it　was　about　to　be　made　true　even　now；　and　Blaise　realized　that　he　would　have　to　accept　that　weight　because　his　only　other　alternative　was　to　withdraw　into　the　shadows　and　die；　betraying　all　those　who　believed　in　him。　He　made　his　choice　then；　and　prepared　himself　to　answer　for　it　before　the　god　when　his　hour　came。
　　Drawing　back　sharply　from　the　crush　at　the　front　of　the　lines　he　wheeled　his　horse　over　towards　Fulk　de　Savaric；　gesturing　urgently。　Fulk　saw　him　ing　and　drew　back　as　well。
　　〃We　can't　do　this　much　longer！〃　Rosala's　brother　shouted　over　the　roar　of　bat。　A　man　beside　them　fell；　dropping　his　sword；　clutching　with　both　hands　at　an　arrow　in　his　throat。
　　〃I　know！　Listen　to　me！　Pull　your　men　back　and　try　to　flank　around。　We'll　hold　as　best　we　can。　Get　in　behind　Ademar　if　you　can！　Drive　towards　Bertran。〃
　　〃You　can't　hold　here　without　us！〃　Fulk　screamed。　There　was　blood　on　his　face；　dripping　into　his　yellow　beard。　Blaise　couldn't　tell　if　it　was　Fulk's　own　blood　or　someone　else's。
　　〃Have　to　try！〃　he　shouted。　〃Nothing　else　is　going　to　break　this　up；　and　we　can't　keep　fighting　twice　our　numbers　face　to　face。〃
　　He　had　another　thought　then　and　looked　away　from　Fulk　towards　the　front　again。　He　saw　that　Rudel　was　looking　back　at　him；　waiting。　They　had　fought　beside　each　other　often　enough；　it　wasn't　really　a　great　surprise。　He　saw　his　friend　arch　his　eyebrows　in　silent　enquiry；　and　Blaise　nodded　his　head。
　　〃Do　it！〃　he　cried；　and　knew　that　Rudel　understood。　His　friend　turned　to　a　mercenary　beside　him　and　spoke　a　one　word　mand。
　　A　moment　later　there　came　a　fierce；　ragged　shout　from　Fulk's　men　of　Savaric　as　over　their　heads；　gripped　by　that　coran　beside　Rudel；　the　banner　of　the　kings　of　Gorhaut　rose　up　to　fly　beside　the　standard　of　Arbonne。　Two　of　us　under　the　same　banner；　Blaise　thought。　Will　it　matter？
　　A　moment　later　he　realized；　with　a　quickening　of　his　heart；　that　it　might。
　　〃Look！〃　Fulk　shouted；　pointing。
　　Blaise　had　already　seen。
　　〃To　me！〃　he　roared；　pulling　at　his　horse's　reins；　driving　towards　the　standard　Rudel　had　raised。　〃In　the　name　of　Gorhaut；　to　me；　men　of　Garsenc！〃
　　And　as　he　screamed　it　at　the　top　of　his　voice；　he　saw　that　there　were　indeed　corans　of　his　family　estate；　from　the　pany　behind　his　father　and　Ademar；　pulling　back　from　the　fight　in　the　centre　and　making　their　way；　swords　uplifted　in　salute；　towards　him。
　　Ranald's　last　shouted　words　had　been　heard；　Blaise　realized。　And　these　men　would　have　watched　one　of　their　own；　Bergen　of　Garsenc；　felled　by　a　Portezzan　as　he　prepared　to　ride　back　to　them。　And　sure；　surely；　there　would　be　those　among　the　corans　he　had　grown　up　among　who　had　not　been　filled　with　joy　at　the　prospect　of　burning　women　and　mutilating　helpless　men。
　　He　saw　his　father　turn；　alerted　by　a　change　in　the　sounds　behind　him。　Galbert　visibly　checked　at　what　he　saw；　then　his　own　magnificent；　stentorian　voice　rang　out　over　the　battlefield　like　the　voice　of　doom；　of　a　god；　〃Stop　those　men！〃　he　trumpeted。　〃There　are　traitors　among　us！〃
　　Confusion　reigned。　Some　corans　turned　obediently　in　the　Gorhaut　ranks　and　began　slashing　at　others　who；　moments　before；　had　been　fighting　beside　them。　In　front　of　Blaise　the　warriors　of　Gorhaut　turned　towards　the　centre　to　see　what　was　happening；　and　in　the　respite　shaped　by　that　brief　hesitation　the　men　of　Arbonne　pushed　forward　beside　Rudel's　hard…bitten　mercenaries；　fighting　now　beneath　the　incongruous　banner　of　the　kings　of　Gorhaut。　Blaise　saw　Mallin　de　Baude　drive　forward；　first　man　into　the　gap。
　　〃Go　quickly　now！〃　he　cried　over　his　shoulder　to　Fulk。　〃We　have　a　chance！〃
　　With　no　more　words　spoken；　Fulk　de　Savaric　barked　orders　to　his　captains　and　moments　later…more　swiftly　than　Blaise　could　have　hoped…the　men　of　Savaric　had　peeled　back　and　begun　swinging　south　towards　the　lake　in　a　desperate　attempt　at　flanking　around。
　　It　was　going　to　have　to　be　swift；　Blaise　realized　grimly；　as　nearly　half　the　men　in　their　sector　melted　away。　Rudel　looked　back　at　him；　grasped　what　was　happening　and；　improbably；　grinned。
　　〃It　this　some　sort　of　vengeance　upon　me？〃　he　cried；　leaning　over　in　his　saddle　towards　Blaise。　〃For　youthful　sins　I　have　long　forgotten？〃
　　〃What　else　could　possibly　be　guiding　me　now？〃　Blaise　shouted　back；　moving　his　horse　up　beside　his　friend。　Rudel　laughed　aloud。　Then　he　stopped　laughing；　for　the　warriors　of　Gorhaut；　seeing　empty　space　open　up　before　them　and　the　numbers　of　their　foes　suddenly　diminished；　returned；　with　a　collective　cry　and　a　new　urgency；　to　their　own　assault。
　　After　that　there　was　little　chance　to　do　so　much　as　look　up；　let　alone　assert　leadership　on　any　grand　scale。　Battles　were　always　like　this　at　their　peak；　breaking　down　into　islands　of　desperately　close　bat；　the　screams　and　the　sweaty　press　of　men　and　horses；　the　living　and　dying　and　dead；　preventing　any　chance　at　grasping　an　overall　picture。　Blaise　lost　sight　of　Mallin。　He　knew　Bertran　must　be　holding　in　the　centre；　or　they　would　by　now　have　been　under　hopeless　pressure　from　that　side。　He　knew　this　had　to　be　true；　but　he　couldn't　spare　a　moment　to　look　up　and　see。
　　The　world　shrank　to　the　smallest；　bloodiest　dimensions；　to　a　sword　lifting　and　falling；　the　scream　of　a　dying　horse；　the　jarring　impact　of　his　blade　on　armour　or　the　different　sucking　feel　as　it　bit　into　flesh；　an　awareness　of　Rudel　on　his　left　side　and　another　man；　a　mercenary　he　didn't　know　beside　him　on　the　right。　When　that　man　fell；　moments　later；　another　coran　pushed　forward　to　take　his　place。　It　was　Hirnan　of　Baude；　and　Blaise　belatedly　understood　that　they　were　guarding　him。　That　he　was　no　longer　just　one　of　the　captains　here。　He　was　the　man　in　whose　name　the　banner　above　them　was　flying。
　　That　was　the　moment；　really；　when　Blaise　was　made　aware　of　what　being　a　king　might　entail。　The　knowledge　came　to　him　on　that　desperate　battlefield　as　a　weight　and　an　exaltation；　both。　The　rash　folly　he　had　begun　in　Tavernel　last　summer　and　then　continued　in　the　fall…claiming　a　crown　at　the　Lussan　Fair…became；　in　that　valley　north　of　Talair；　something　tangible　and　fully　incarnate　for　him。
　　A　man　with　an　axe　appeared　in　front　of　him　on　a　dark　grey　horse；　Rudel　Correze；　with　an　elegant；　almost　casual　movement　in　the　saddle；　slid　his　sword　into　the　man's　throat　between　armour　and　helm　and　Blaise　watched　him　fall。　Hirnan　immediately　drove　his　horse　forward　to　cut　off　the　space　in　front　of　Blaise。
　　They　were　guarding　him；　he　understood；　at　risk　of　their　own　lives。
　　In