gc.thewhiterose-第61部分

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。　The　Great　et。　Small；　but　no　denying　its　unique　silver　scimitar　shape。　〃It　can't　be。　It　isn't　due　for　twenty　years。　Celestial　bodies　don't　change　their　cycles。〃
　　　〃They　don't。　That's　axiomatic。　So　maybe　the　axiom　makers　are　wrong。〃
　　　She　tilted　the　carpet　down。　〃Note　it　in　your　writings；　but　don't　mention　it　otherwise。　Our　peoples　are　troubled　enough。〃
　　　〃Right。〃　That　et　has　a　hold　on　men's　minds。
　　　Back　down　into　the　yuck　of　a　Barrowland　night。　We　came　in　over　the　Great　Barrow　itself；　only　forty　feet　up。　The　damned　river　was　close。　The　ghosts　were　dancing　in　the　rain。
　　　I　sloshed　into　the　barracks　in　a　numb　state；　checked　the　calendar。
　　　Twelve　days　to　go。
　　　The　old　bastard　was　probably　out　there　laughing　it　up　with　his　favorite　hound；　Toadkiller　Dog。
　　　
　　　Chapter　Fifty…Two：　NO　SURPRISE
　　　
　　　Something　that　lies　down　in　that　mind　below　the　mind　would　not　let　me　be。　I　tossed　and　turned；　wakened；　fell　asleep；　and　finally；　in　the　wee　hours；　it　surfaced。　I　got　up　and　shuffled　through　papers。
　　　I　found　that　piece　that　made　the　Lady　gasp　once；　ploughed　through　that　interminable　guest　list　till　I　found　a　Lord　Senjak　and　his　daughters　Ardath；　Credence；　and　Sylith。　The　youngest；　one　Dorotea；　the　scribbler　noted；　could　not　attend。
　　　〃Ha！〃　I　crowed。　〃The　search　narrows。〃
　　　There　was　no　more　information；　but　that　was　a　triumph。　Assuming　the　Lady　was　indeed　a　twin　and　Dorotea　was　the　youngest　and　Ardath　dead；　the　odds　were　now　fifty…fifty。　A　woman　named　Sylith　or　a　woman　named　Credence。　Credence？　That　is　how　it　translated。
　　　I　was　so　excited　I　got　no　more　sleep。　Even　that　damned　off…schedule　et　fled　my　thoughts。
　　　But　excitement　perished　between　the　grinding　stones　of　time。　Nothing　came　from　those　Taken　tracing　Bomanz's　wife　and　papers。　I　suggested　the　Lady　go　to　the　source　himself。　She　was　not　prepared　for　the　risk。　Not　yet。
　　　Our　old　and　stupid　friend　Tracker　produced　another　gem　four　days　after　I　eliminated　sister　Dorotea。　The　big　goof　had　been　reading　genealogies　day　and　night。
　　　Silent　came　back　from　Blue　Willy　wearing　such　a　look　I　knew　something　good　had　happened。　He　dragged　me　outside；　toward　town；　into　the　null。　He　gave　me　a　slip　of　damp　paper。　In　Tracker's　simple　style；　it　said：
　　　Three　sisters　were　married。　Ardath　married　twice；　first　a　Baron　Kaden　of　Dartstone；　who　died　in　battle。　Six　years　later　she　married　Erin　NoFather；　an　unlanded　priest　of　the　god　Vancer；　from　a　town　called　Slinger；　in　the　kingdom　of　Vye。　Credence　married　Barthelme　of　Jaunt；　a　renowned　sorcerer。　It　is　in　my　memory　that　Barthelme　of　Jaunt　became　one　of　the　Taken；　but　my　memory　is　not　trustworthy。
　　　No　lie。
　　　Dorotea　married　Raft；　Prince…in…Waiting；　of　Start。　Sylith　never　married。
　　　Tracker　then　proved　that；　slow　though　he　might　be；　an　occasional　idea　did　perk　through　his　murk　of　a　mind。
　　　The　death　rolls　reveal　that　Ardath　and　her　husband；　Erin　NoFather；　an　unlanded　priest　of　the　god　Vancer；　from　a　town　called　Slinger；　in　the　kingdom　of　Vye；　were　slain　by　bandits　while　traveling　between　Lathe　and　Ova。　My　untrustworthy　memory　recalls　that　this　took　place　just　months　before　the　Dominator　proclaimed　himself。
　　　Sylith　drowned　in　a　flood　of　the　River　Dream　some　years　earlier；　swept　away　before　countless　witnesses。　But　no　body　was　found。
　　　We　had　an　eyewitness。　It　never　occurred　to　me　to　think　of　Tracker　that　way；　though　the　knowledge　had　been　there　for　the　recognition。　Maybe　we　could　figure　some　way　to　get　at　his　memories。
　　　Credence　perished　in　the　fighting　when　the　Dominator　and　Lady　took　Jaunt　in　the　early　days　of　their　conquests。　There　is　no　record　of　Dorotea's　death。
　　　〃Damn；〃　I　said。　〃Old　Tracker　is　worth　something　after　all。〃
　　　Silent　signed；　〃It　sounds　confused；　but　reason　should　provide　something。〃
　　　More　than　something。　Without　drawing　charts；　connecting　all　those　women；　I　felt　confident　enough　to　say；　〃We　knew　Dorotea　as　Soulcatcher。　We　know　Ardath　wasn't　the　Lady。　Odds　are；　the　sister　who　engineered　the　ambush　that　killed　her　。　。　。　〃　There　was　something　missing　still。　If　I　just　knew　which　were　twins　。　。　。
　　　In　response　to　my　question；　Silent　signed；　〃Tracker　is　looking　for　birth　records。〃　But　he　was　unlikely　to　score　again。　Lord　Senjak　was　not　KurreTelle。
　　　〃One　of　the　purported　dead　didn't　die。　I'd　put　my　money　on　Sylith。　Assuming　Credence　was　killed　because　she　recognized　a　sister　who　was　supposed　to　be　dead　when　the　Dominator　and　Lady　took　Jaunt。〃
　　　〃Bomanz　mentions　a　legend　about　the　Lady　killing　her　twin。　Is　that　this　ambush？　Or　something　more　public？〃
　　　〃Who　knows？〃　I　said。　It　really　did　get　confusing。　For　a　moment　I　wondered　if　it　mattered。
　　　The　Lady　called　an　assembly。　Our　original　estimate　of　time　available　now　appeared　overly　optimistic。　She　told　us；　〃We　appear　to　have　been　misled。　There　is　nothing　in　Catcher's　documents　to　betray　my　husband's　name。　How　she　reached　that　assumption　is　beyond　us　now。　If　documents　are　missing；　we　cannot　be　sure。　Unless　news　es　from　Lords　or　Oar　soon；　we　can　forget　that　avenue。　It's　time　to　consider　alternatives。〃
　　　I　scribbled　a　note；　asked　Whisper　to　pass　it　to　the　Lady。　The　Lady　read　it；　then　looked　at　me　with　narrowed；　thoughtful　eyes。　〃Erin　NoFather；〃　she　read　aloud。　〃An　unlanded　priest　of　the　god　Vancer；　from　Slinger；　in　the　kingdom　of　Vye。　This；　from　our　amateur　historian。　What　you　found　is　less　interesting　than　the　fact　that　you　found　it。　Croaker。　That　news　is　five　hundred　years　old。　It　was　worthless　then。　Whoever　Erin　NoFather　was　before　he　left　Vye；　he　did　an　absolute　job　of　eliminating　traces。　By　the　time　he　became　interesting　enough　to　have　his　antecedents　investigated；　he　had　obliterated　not　only　Slinger　but　every　person　to　have　lived　in　that　village　during　his　lifetime。　In　later　years　he　went　even　farther；　wasting　all　Vye。　Which　is　why　the　notion　that　those　papers　might　contain　his　true　name　constituted　such　a　surprise。〃
　　　I　felt　about　half…size；　and　stupid。　I　should　have　known　they　would　have　tried　to　unmask　the　Dominator　before。　I　had　surrendered　some　small　advantage　for　nothing。　So　much　for　the　spirit　of　cooperation。
　　　One　of　the　new　Taken…I　cannot　keep　them　straight；　for　they　all　dress　the　same…arrived　soon　afterward。　He　or　she　gave　the　Lady　a　small　carved　chest。　The　Lady　smiled　when　she　opened　it。　〃There　were　no　papers　that　survived。　But　there　were　these。〃　She　dumped　some　odd　bracelets。　〃Tomorrow　we　go　after　Bomanz。〃
　　　Everyone　else　knew。　I　had　to　ask。　〃What　are　they？〃
　　　〃The　amulets　made　for　the　Eternal　Guard　in　the　time　of　the　White　Rose。　So　they　could　enter　the　Barrowland　without　hazard。〃
　　　The　resulting　excitement　surpassed　my　understanding。
　　　〃The　wife　must　have　carried　them　away。　Though　how　she　laid　hands　on　them　is　a　mystery。　Break　this　up　now。　I　need　time　to　think。〃　She　shooed　us　like　a　farm　wife　shoos　chickens。
　　　I　returned　to　my　room。　The　Limper　floated　in　behind　me。　He　said　nary　a　word；　but　ducked　into　the　documents　again。　Puzzled；　I　looked　over　his　shoulder。　He　had　lists　of　all　the　names　we　had　unearthed；　written　in　the　alphabets　of　the　languages　whence　they　sprang。　He　seemed　to　be　playing　with　both　substitution　codes　and　numerology。　Baffled；　I　went　to　my　bed；　turned　my　back　on　him；　faked　sleep。
　　　As　long　as　he　was　there；　I　knew；　sleep　would　evade　me。
　　　
　　　Chapter　Fifty…Three：　THE　RECOVERY
　　　
　　　It　resumed　snowing　that　night。　Real　snow；　half　a　foot　an　hour　and　no　letup。　The　racket　raised　by　the　Guards　as　they　strove　to　clear　it　from　doorways　and　the　carpets　wakened　me。
　　　I　had　slept　despite　the　Limper。
　　　An　instant　of　terror。　I　sat　bolt　upright。　He　remained　at　his　task。
　　　The　barracks　was　overly　warm；　holding　the　heat　because　it　was　all　but　buried。
　　　There　was　a　bustle　despite　the　weather。　Taken　had　arrived　while　I　slept。　Guards　not　only　dug　but　hurried　about　other　tasks。
　　　One…Eye　joined　me　for　a　rude　breakfast。　I　said；　〃So　she's　going　ahead。　Despite　the　weather。〃
　　　〃It　won't　get　any　better；　Croaker。　That　guy　out　there　knows　what's　going　on。〃　He　looked　grim。
　　　〃What's　the　matter？〃
　　　〃I　can　count。　Croaker。　What　do　you　expect　from　a　guy　with　a　week　to　live？〃
　　　My　stomach　tightened。　Yes。　I　had　been　able　to　avoid　thoughts　of　the　sort　so　far；　but　。　。　。　〃We've　been　in　tight　places　b