ggk.asongforarbonne-第36部分

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　　〃Passable；〃　said　Blaise　cautiously。　〃What；　exactly；　are　we　about　to　do？〃
　　〃A　question！〃　said　Valery　of　Talair；　grinning　suddenly。　He　looked　younger；　and　very　like　his　cousin　when　he　smiled。　〃You　actually　asked　a　question！〃
　　Almost　against　his　will　Blaise　laughed。　He　sobered　quickly；　concentrating；　as　Valery　of　Talair　began　to　explain。　Then；　when　Valery　was　finished　and　they　had　e　to　the　river　and　Blaise　saw　what　was　there…the　people；　and　the　strung　lights　like　glittering　stars　e　down；　the　lanterns　and　faces　in　the　windows　of　the　merchant　houses　along　the　river；　the　ropes　across　the　water　mooring　the　rafts；　the　small　boats　waiting　and　others　drifting　downstream　towards　the　invisible　sea；　some　already　capsized　with　men　swimming　beside　them…he　laughed　aloud　again；　helplessly；　at　the　childlike　frivolity　of　it　all。
　　〃Oh；　Corannos；〃　he　said；　to　no　one　in　particular；　〃what　a　country　this　is。〃
　　But　they　had　caught　up　with　the　others　by　then；　the　troubadours　and　joglars　amid　the　crowd　on　the　riverbank；　and　Bertran　de　Talair　turned　back　to　look　at　him。
　　〃We　know　that；〃　he　said　levelly　over　the　noise。　〃Do　you？〃
　　
　　The　river　and　the　sea　and　the　night　were　sacred　to　Rian；　and　Midsummer　was　holy　to　her；　but　Carnival　was　also　a　time　when　the　order　of　the　world　was　turned　upside…down…sometimes　literally；　as　in　a　vat　of　water；　or　Cauvas　gold；　Lisseut　thought　ruefully。　The　goddess　was　celebrated　that　night　through　Arbonne　in　laughter　and　amid　noise　and　flowing　wine　and　otherwise　forbidden　linkings　in　the　darkness　of　cobbled　laneways　or　grassy　mews；　or　beds　in　houses　where　doors　were　left　unlocked　this　one　night　of　the　year。
　　It　was　also　celebrated　in　the　city　of　Tavernel；　and　had　been　for　years　beyond　number；　with　the　challenge　of　the　Boats　and　Rings　on　the　river；　here　where　the　Arbonne　came　home　to　the　sea　after　its　long　journey　south　from　the　mountains　of　Gorhaut。
　　Grateful　for　the　hooded　cloak　Duke　Bertran　had　forgotten　or　neglected　to　reclaim；　Lisseut　tried　with　only　marginal　success　to　pick　up　the　thread　of　excitement　and　anticipation　that　had　carried　her　into　The　Liensenne　earlier　in　the　day。　It　was　still　Carnival；　she　was　still　among　friends　and　had　even　had…though　there　had　been　no　time　to　properly　absorb　this…what　appeared　to　be　a　spectacular　success。　But　the　presence　of　hatred；　both　ancient　and　new；　was　too　strong　now　for　her　to　regain　the　blithe　mood　of　before。　She　looked　over　at　the　grim　figure　of　Urté　de　Miraval　and　at　the　sleek　Arimondan　beside　him；　and　she　could　not　suppress　a　shiver；　even　within　the　cloak。
　　You　kill　singers；　remember？　So　En　Bertran　had　said　to　the　duke　of　Miraval。　Lisseut　didn't　know　if　that　was　true；　if　it　was；　then　it　had　happened　before　her　time　and　was　not　something　anyone　talked　about。　But　Urté　had　not　denied　it。　Only　those　who　sing　what　they　should　not；　he　had　replied；　unperturbed。
　　Laughter；　jarring　incongruously　with　her　thoughts；　drew　her　attention　to　the　river　and；　in　spite　of　herself；　she　was　forced　to　smile。　Jourdain；　who　prided　himself　on　his　athleticism　even　more　than　Remy　did；　had　pushed　his　way　through　the　crowd　to　the　water's　edge　and；　prudently　removing　his　expensive　boots；　was　evidently　about　to　be　the　first　of　their　group　to　try　the　boats。
　　Lisseut　cast　a　quick　glance　up　at　the　sky；　just　as　Jourdain　did；　and　saw　that　the　moons　were　both　clear　of　clouds　and　would　be　for　a　few　moments。　That　mattered；　she　knew。　It　was　hard　enough　to　grasp　the　rings　in　a　whirling；　bouncing　toy　of　a　boat　without　contending　with　the　added　problem　of　not　being　able　to　see　them。
　　〃Are　you　sure　you　wouldn't　prefer　to　be　ducked　in　the　basin？〃　Alain　of　Rousset　called　out　from　the　safety　of　the　bank。　〃It's　an　easier　way　to　soak　yourself！〃
　　There　was　laughter。　Jourdain　said　something　impolite；　but　he　was　concentrating　on　stepping　down　and　then　settling　himself　in　the　tiny；　bobbing　craft　that　two　men　held　close　to　the　dock。　He　took　the　short；　flat…bladed　oar　one　of　them　offered　him；　glanced　once　more　at　the　two　moons…one　waxing；　one　just　past　full…and　nodded　tersely。
　　They　let　the　boat　go。　To　screams　of　encouragement；　Jourdain　shot　like　a　cork　from　a　bottle　out　into　the　swiftly　racing　river。
　　〃Ten　copper　pieces　he　doesn't　make　three　rings；〃　Alain　cried　loudly。
　　〃Done！〃　said　Elisse；　who　was　sleeping　with　Jourdain　that　season。
　　〃And　ten　more　from　me；〃　Lisseut　added　quickly；　more　to　wager　against　Elisse　than　for　any　other　reason。　〃Are　you　good　for　it？〃
　　〃More　than　good；〃　Elisse　replied　with　a　toss　of　her　golden　hair。　〃I've　been　touring　with　real　troubadours　this　spring。〃
　　It　was　such　a　patently　envious；　silly　gibe　that　Lisseut　burst　into　laughter。　Alain's　aggrieved　expression　showed　that　he　couldn't　quite　see　it　that　way。　Lisseut　squeezed　his　arm　and　then　continued　to　hold　it　as　they　watched　Jourdain　do　battle　with　the　river。
　　Sober　or　not；　he　steered　smoothly　enough　across　the　current　to　the　first　raft　and；　without　apparent　effort；　reached　up　and　across　to　gracefully　pluck　the　garland　of　olive　leaves　that　had　been　looped　on　a　pole　hanging　out　over　the　water。　The　priestess　on　the　first　raft　quickly　raised　her　torch　to　signal　success。　A　shout　of　approval　went　up　along　both　sides　of　the　river。　People　were　massed　all　the　way　down　the　banks　to　the　final　strand　of　rope　running　across　the　stream；　and　there　were　almost　as　many　leaning　out　of　windows　in　the　high　houses。
　　Paddling　vigorously；　leaning　his　body　far　over　to　one　side；　Jourdain　angled　his　boat　back　the　other　way；　trying　to　move　across　the　river　before　the　current　took　him　sweeping　past　the　second　raft。　He　made　it；　barely；　had　an　instant　to　steady　himself　and　then　reached　upwards…the　second　ring　was　higher　of　course…and　plucked　the　garland。　He　almost　slipped；　toppling　back　into　his　boat　and　very　nearly　falling　out。　But　another　torch　was　lifted　and　another　shout　went　up。
　　Jourdain's　near…fall　cost　him　precious　time；　though；　and　when　he　righted　himself　properly　and　seized　the　oar　again　Lisseut；　even　at　a　distance；　saw　him　make　a　swift　decision　to　eschew　the　third　raft　near　the　far　bank　and　head　straight　downriver　towards　the　fourth。　It　was　the　number　of　garlands　that　counted；　not　the　sequence。
　　It　was　also　a　wrong　decision。　Running　straight　downstream；　Jourdain's　tiny　boat；　seeming　little　more　than　a　chip　of　bark　in　the　racing　Arbonne；　accelerated　dramatically　as　he　approached　the　fourth　moored　raft。
　　〃Do　you　want　to　pay　us　now？〃　Alain　said　to　Elisse。
　　Despite　the　wager；　Lisseut　winced　in　anticipation　as　Jourdain；　flying　down　the　river；　bravely　rose　to　his　feet　as　the　moored　raft　hurtled　towards　him。　He　reached　upwards　and　over　for　the　elusive　garland。
　　He　didn't　even　e　close。　With　a　whoop　they　could　hear　all　the　way　upstream　at　the　starting　pier　his　feet　went　flying　from　under　him；　the　boat　shot　out　into　the　stream　and　Jourdain；　seeming　to　defy　the　pull　of　earth；　hung　horizontally　above　the　river；　bathed　in　moonlight　for　a　suspended　moment；　before　plunging　into　the　Arbonne　with　a　splash　that　sent　a　fountain　of　water　upwards　to　soak　the　priest　on　the　raft　and　those　who　had　gathered　there　to　see　the　contest。
　　He　almost　doused　the　torch；　but　he　was　nowhere　near　the　garland。　Two　men　leaped　quickly　off　the　raft　to　assist　him　in　the　water…people　had　been　known　to　drown　in　this　game…and　Lisseut　breathed　more　easily　when　she　saw　them　pulling　Jourdain　towards　one　of　the　anchored　boats　near　shore。　From　a　distance　they　saw　him　raise　an　almost　jaunty　hand　to　show　that　he　was　all　right。
　　〃What　is　the　best　so　far；〃　Bertran　de　Talair　asked　in　a　quiet　tone　that　brought　Lisseut　swiftly　back　to　the　reality　of　why　they　were　here。
　　〃One　man　has　all　four；　my　lord；〃　said　the　nearest　of　the　boatmen　crouched　at　the　end　of　the　pier。　〃But　he　fell　at　the　very　beginning　of　the　rope　crossing；　so　no　one　has　finished　the　course　so　far。〃
　　〃Good；〃　said　the　duke　of　Talair；　stepping　towards　the　end　of　the　dock。　〃With　your　agreement；　my　lord；〃　he　said；　turning　towards　Urté；　〃I　will　give　you　a　target　to　shoot　for。〃
　　Urté　de　Miraval　made　a　negligent　gesture　that　signalled　assent。　Not　bothering　to　remove　his　boots；　Bertran　stood　quietly　as　the　boatmen　manoeuvred　the　next　small　craft　into