ggk.asongforarbonne-第39部分

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　until　they　passed；　bearing　death；　then　it　would　be　loud　again；　wilder　than　before；　with　flamboyant　murder　suddenly　added　to　the　intoxicating　mixture　of　Carnival…something　else　by　which　to　remember　the　night。
　　The　troubadours　and　joglars　would　go　to　the　temple；　she　knew；　to　wait　and　watch　in　a　vigil　outside　the　walls；　many　for　Bertran's　sake　and　some　for　Valery's。　Lisseut　had　been　part　of　death…watches　before。　She　didn't　want　to　join　one　tonight。
　　She　followed　the　coran　from　Gorhaut。
　　She　had　to　force　her　way　against　the　press　of　the　crowd。　People　were　hurrying　towards　the　river；　drawn　by　rumours　of　some　excitement　or　disaster；　the　coinage　of　festival　time。　Twisting　past　bodies；　Lisseut　smelled　wine　and　cooked　meats；　roasted　nuts；　sweet　perfumes；　human　sweat。　She　knew　a　brief；　flurrying　panic　when　she　was　trapped　for　a　moment　in　a　cluster　of　drunken　merchant　seamen　from　Gotzland；　but　she　twisted　free　of　the　nearest　of　them　and　hurried　on；　looking　for　the　man　she　was　following。
　　His　height　made　it　easier。　Even　in　the　thronged　laneways　she　could　make　him　out　ahead　of　her；　moving　against　the　crowd；　his　hair　a　bright　red　when　he　passed　under　the　torches　set　in　the　walls　of　the　dilapidated　old　warehouses。　This　was　not　the　choicest　part　of　Tavernel。　Blaise　of　Gorhaut　plunged　onwards；　taking　turnings　seemingly　at　random；　moving　more　quickly　as　the　crowds　thinned　out　away　from　the　water。　Lisseut　found　she　was　almost　running　in　order　to　keep　him　in　sight。
　　Incongruous　in　one　dim；　crooked　laneway；　she　saw　a　woman；　gowned　magnificently　in　green　silk；　furred　and　bejewelled；　with　an　elaborate　fox　mask；　reach　out　for　Blaise；　he　didn't　even　break　stride　to　acknowledge　her　presence。　Lisseut；　hurrying　along　behind　him；　was　made　suddenly　aware　of　her　own　damp；　straggling　hair　and　ruined　shirt。　Trivialities；　she　told　herself　sternly；　a　white…feathered　arrow　had　been　launched　tonight　with　poison　on　its　head；　and　it　had　been　meant…it　took　no　brilliance　of　insight　to　know…for　the　duke　of　Talair　and　not　the　cousin　who　had　quietly　taken　his　place　in　that　small　boat　on　the　river。
　　Blaise　of　Gorhaut　stopped　abruptly　at　a　crossing　of　lanes　and　looked　around　him　for　the　first　time。　Lisseut　quickly　ducked　into　a　recessed　doorway。　She　almost　fell　over　a　man　and　a　woman　leaning　back　against　the　wall　in　the　darkness　beside　the　door；　locked　in　an　embrace。　The　lower　part　of　the　woman's　gown　was　pushed　up　about　her　waist。
　　〃Oh；　good；〃　the　woman　drawled　sensuously；　glancing　languorously　at　Lisseut；　a　ripple　of　amusement　in　her　voice。　Her　mask　had　slipped　back　from　her　eyes　and　hair；　dangling　loosely　down　her　back。　The　man　laughed　softly；　mouth　at　her　throat。　Both　of　them　reached　out　in　the　same　instant；　slender　fingers　and　strong　ones；　to　draw　Lisseut　into　their　embrace。　〃Good；〃　the　woman　said　again；　a　whisper；　half…closing　her　eyes。　There　was　a　scent　of　wildflowers　about　her。
　　〃Um；　not　really；〃　Lisseut　said　awkwardly；　stirred　against　her　will。　She　spun　free　of　both　of　them。
　　〃Then　farewell　love；　ah；　farewell　ever；　love。〃　The　woman　sang　the　old　refrain　with　an　unexpected　plaintiveness　marred　by　a　giggle　at　the　end　as　the　man　whispered　something　in　her　ear。
　　Back　in　the　street；　in　the　wavering；　uneasy　shadows　between　wall　torches；　Lisseut　quickly　donned　the　woman's　mask。　It　was　a　cat；　most　of　the　women　chose　cat　masks　tonight。　Ahead；　she　saw　Blaise　throw　out　a　hand　to　stop　a　trio　of　apprentices。　He　asked　a　question。　Laughing；　they　answered　and　pointed；　one　of　them　offered　a　flask。　Lisseut　saw　Blaise　hesitate　and　then　accept。　He　squeezed　a　jet　of　dark　wine　down　his　throat。　For　some　reason；　watching；　that　made　her　uneasy。
　　He　took　the　lane　forking　right；　where　they　had　pointed。　She　followed；　passing　the　apprentices　with　quick　sidelong　steps；　prepared　to　run；　it　was　too　dark　here；　not　enough　people。　She　reached　the　fork　and　looked　along　the　lane　to　the　right。　It　was　even　quieter　there；　running　up　and　away　from　the　river　and　the　market　square。　The　houses　became　steadily　more　impressive；　more　evidently　prosperous；　the　roadway　better　lit　than　before　with　lanterns　burning　in　ornate　sconces　on　outside　walls…one　of　the　surest　signs　of　wealth。　Two　girls；　evidently　servants；　called　cheerfully　down　to　her　from　where　they　leaned　out　over　a　carved　stone　balustrade。　Lisseut　kept　moving。　Blaise；　walking　swiftly　with　his　long　strides；　had　already　turned　a　corner　up　ahead。　She　began　to　run。
　　By　the　time　she　reached　that　next　crossing　of　streets　and　turned　right　again　as　he　had　done；　Lisseut　realized　where　they　were；　even　before　she　saw；　in　the　square　at　the　top　of　the　street；　the　off…centred　tower　loom　grimly　above　the　largest　red…stoned　building。
　　This　was　the　merchants'　quarter；　where　the　banking　houses　and　mercantile　operations　of　several　countries　had　their　headquarters　in　Tavernel；　Arbonne's　deep…harboured　gateway　to　the　world。　That　tower　at　the　top　of　the　road　was　a　deliberate；　intimidating　echo　of　the　great　tower　of　Mignano；　largest　of　the　Portezzan　city…states；　and　the　massively　formidable　palaces　on　either　side　of　the　street　leading　to　the　square　sheltered　the　Arbonne　contingents　of　the　lucid；　careful　merchants　of　those　wealthy　cities。
　　The　noises　of　Carnival　were　distant　now。　Lisseut　slipped　into　an　archway；　peering　out　carefully　as　Blaise　of　Gorhaut　went　past　one　massive　doorway　and　then　another。　She　saw　him　stop　finally；　gazing　up　at　the　coat　of　arms　above　a　pair　of　iron　doors。　There　were　lights　on　in　that　house；　on　the　upper　levels　where　the　sleeping　quarters　would　be。　There　was　no　one　else　in　the　street。
　　Blaise　stood　motionless　for　what　seemed　to　her　a　long　time；　as　if　deliberating　something　difficult；　then　he　looked　carefully　around　him　and　slipped　down　a　narrow　alley　that　ran　between　that　house　and　the　one　north　of　it。　Lisseut　gave　him　a　moment；　then　stepped　out　from　her　archway　and　followed。　At　the　entrance　to　the　alley　she　had　to　hold　her　breath　for　a　moment；　almost　choking　in　the　midden　smell　that　came　from　it。　Kneeling　for　concealment；　her　eyes　keen　in　the　darkness；　she　saw　the　coran　from　Gorhaut　hoist　himself　smoothly　to　scale　the　rough　stone　wall　running　behind　the　house　where　he　had　stopped。　There　were　more　lights　glowing　softly　from　beyond　that　wall。　She　saw　him　silhouetted　for　a　second　against　them　before　he　let　himself　down　on　the　other　side。
　　It　was　time　to　go　back　to　the　river。　She　now　knew　where　he　had　gone。　She　could　find　out　who　owned　this　house　in　the　morning；　report　the　incident　to　whoever　seemed　appropriate。　Duke　Bertran　was　the　obvious　person；　or　perhaps　the　countess's　seneschal　in　Tavernel。　Perhaps　even　Ariane　de　Carenzu；　who　had　bound　the　men　of　Talair　and　Miraval　to　keep　the　peace　this　night。　Morning　would　tell　her　what　to　do；　she　could　consult　with　friends；　with　Remy；　Aurelian。　It　was　time　to　go　back。
　　Discarding　her　mask；　gritting　her　teeth；　Lisseut　went　down　the　fetid　alley；　past　the　point　where　the　Gorhautian　had　scaled　the　wall　and；　further　along；　she　found　an　overturned　wooden　crate。　There　were　always　crates　in　alleyways。　Rats　scattered　in　several　directions　as　she　stepped　carefully　up　onto　it。　From　there　it　was　just　possible　to　lift　herself　to　the　top　of　the　wide　wall。　She　lay　flat　on　the　stone；　motionless　for　a　long　time。　Then；　when　she　was　sure　she'd　not　been　seen　or　heard；　she　cautiously　lifted　her　head　and　looked　down。
　　It　was　an　intricate；　formal　garden；　carefully　tended。　A　plane　tree　grew　just　inside　the　wall　and　its　branches　offered　some　concealment　for　her；　which　mattered；　for　Riannon；　the　blue　moon　of　the　goddess；　rode　free　just　then　of　what　seemed　the　last　of　the　cloud　cover　for　a　time。　Above；　through　the　screen　of　leaves；　Lisseut　could　see　the　stars；　brilliant　in　the　summer　sky。　A　bird　was　singing　in　the　branches　of　the　tree。
　　Below　her；　on　a　close…cropped　grassy　expanse；　Blaise　of　Gorhaut　stood　quietly　beside　a　small；　round　pool　into　which　a　sculpted　fountain　was　splashing　water。　There　were　flowers　planted　around　the　border　of　the　fountain　and　more　of　them　laid　out　in　patterns　through　the　ordered　space　of　the　garden。　Lisseut　smelled　oranges　and　lemons；　and　there　was　lavender　near　the　southern　wall。　Behind　her　rats　scrambled　in　the　dank　alley。
　　On　a　smal