tw.theburningman-第8部分

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　　　　　　　I　stared　at　her；　almost　sick　with　the　need　to　know　things。　'Why　won't　you　tell　me　your　name？'
　　　　　　　Another　sad　smile。　'Because　my　true　name　I　give　to　no　one。　Because　any　other　name　would　be　a　lie。'
　　　'Tell　me　a　lie；　then。'
　　　'A　strange　household；　indeed！　Very　well。　The　people　of　the　North　call　me　Valada。'　I　tried　it　on　my　tongue。　'Valada。　He　will　set　you　free；　now？'　'Soon；　if　the　bargain　is　honored　on　both　sides。'　'What　is　it；　this　bargain？'
　　　　　　　'A　bad　one　for　everyone。'　She　saw　my　look。　'You　do　not　want　to　know　it；　truly。　Someone　will　die　because　of　this　madness　…　I　see　it　as　clearly　as　I　see　your　face　peering　through　this　door。'　My　heart　was　a　piece　of　cold　stone　in　my　breast。　'Someone　will　die？　Who？'　Her　expression　became　weary；　and　I　could　see　that　standing　with　the　weight　of　the　shackles　was　an　effort　for　her。　'I　do　not　know。　And　in　my　weariness；　I　have　already　told　you　too　much；　little　daughter。　These　are　not　mattersa　for　you。'
　　　　　　　I　was　dismissed；　even　more　miserable　and　confused。　The　witch　would　be　free；　but　someone　else　would　die。　I　could　not　doubt　her　word　…　no　one　could；　who　had　seen　her　fierce；　sad　eyes　as　she　spoke。　As　I　walked　back　to　my　bedchamber；　the　halls　of　the　Inner　Bailey　seemed　a　place　entirely　new；　a　strange　and　unfamiliar　world。
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　My　feelings　for　Tellarin　were　still　astonishingly　strong；　but　in　the　days　after　the　witch's　foretelling　I　was　so　beset　with　unhappiness　that　our　love　was　more　like　a　fire　that　made　a　cold　room　habitable　than　a　sun　that　warmed　everything；　as　it　had　been。　If　my　soldier　had　not　had　worries　of　his　own；　he　would　certainly　have　noticed。
　　　　　　　The　cold　inside　me　became　a　chill　like　deepest　winter　when　I　overheard　Tellarin　and　Avalles　speaking　about　a　secret　task　Lord　Suls　had　for　them；　something　to　do　with　the　witch。　It　was　hard　to　tell　what　was　intended　…　my　beloved　and　his　friend　did　not　themselves　know　all　that　Sulis　had　planned；　and　they　were　speaking　only　to　each　other；　and　not　for　the　benefit　of　their　secret　listener。　I　gathered　that　my　stepfather's　books　had　shown　him　that　the　time　for　some　important　thing　had　drawn　close。　They　would　build　or　find　some　kind　of　fire。　It　would　take　them　to　a　short　journey　by　night；　but　they　would　not　say　…　or　perhaps　did　not　yet　know　…　on　what　night。　Both　my　beloved　and　Avalles　were　clearly　disturbed　by　the　prospect。
If　I　had　feared　before；　when　I　thought　the　greatest　risk　was　to　my　poor；　addled　stepfather；　now　I　was　almost　ill　with　terror。　I　could　barely　stumble　through　the　remaining　hours　of　the　day；　so　consumed　was　I　with　the　thought　that　something　might　happen　to　Tellarin。　I　dropped　my　beadwork　so　many　times　that　Ulca　took　it　away　from　me　at　last。　When　dark　came；　I　could　not　get　to　sleep　for　hours；　and　when　I　did；　I　woke　up　panting　and　shuddering　from　a　dream　in　which　Tellarin　had　fallen　into　flames　and　was　burning　just　beyond　my　reach。
　　　　　　　I　lay　tossing　in　my　bed　all　the　night。　How　could　I　protect　my　beloved？　Warning　him　would　do　no　good。　He　was　stubborn；　and　also　saved　his　deepest　beliefs　for　those　things　he　could　grasp　and　touch；　so　I　knew　he　would　put　little　stock　in　the　witch's　words。　In　any　case；　even　if　he　believed　me；　what　could　he　do？　Refuse　an　order　from　Lord　Sulis　because　of　a　warning　from　me；　his　secret　lover？　No；　it　would　be　hopeless　to　try　to　persuade　Tellarin　not　to　go　…　he　spoke　of　his　loyalty　to　his　master　almost　as　often　as　he　did　of　his　feelings　for　me。
　　　　　　　I　was　in　an　agony　of　fearful　curiosity。　What　did　my　stepfather　plan？　What　had　he　read　in　those　books；　that　he　now　would　risk　not　just　his　own　life；　but　that　of　my　beloved　as　well？
Not　one　of　them　would　tell　me　anything；　I　knew。　Even　the　witch　had　said　that　the　matter　was　not　for　me。　Whatever　I　discovered　would　be　by　my　own　hand。
　　　　　　　I　resolved　to　look　at　my　stepfather's　books；　those　that　he　kept　hidden　from　me　and　everyone　else。　Once　it　would　have　been　all　but　impossible；　but　now　…　because　he　sat　reading　and　writing　and　whispering　to　himself　all　the　night's　dark　hours　…　I　could　trust　that　when　Sulis　did　sleep；　he　would　sleep　like　the　dead。
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　I　stole　into　my　stepfather's　chambers　early　the　next　morning。　He　had　sent　his　servants　away　weeks　before；　and　the　castle…folk　no　longer　dared　rap　on　his　doors　unless　summoned。　The　rooms　were　empty　but　for　my　stepfather　and　me。
　　　　　　　He　lay　sprawled　across　his　bed；　his　head　hanging　back　over　the　edge　of　the　pallet。　Had　I　not　known　how　moderate　most　of　his　habits　were；　I　would　have　thought　from　his　deep；　rough　breathing　and　the　way　he　had　disordered　the　blankets　that　he　had　drunk　himself　stuporous；　but　Sulis　seldom　took　even　a　single　cup　of　wine。
　　　　　　　The　key　to　the　locked　boxes　was　on　a　cord　around　his　neck。　As　I　tugged　it　out　of　his　shirt　with　as　much　care　as　I　could；　I　could　not　help　but　see　how　much　happier　he　appeared　with　the　blankness　of　sleep　on　him。　The　furrows　on　his　brow　had　loosened；　and　his　jaw　was　no　longer　clenched　in　the　grimace　of　distraction　that　had　bee　his　constant　expression。　In　that　moment；　although　I　hated　what　he　had　done　to　the　witch　Valada；　I　pitied　him。　Whatever　madness　had　overtaken　him　of　late；　he　had　been　a　kind　man　in　his　way；　in　his　time。
　　　　　　　He　stirred　and　made　an　indistinct　sound。　Heart　beating　swiftly；　I　hurried　to　draw　the　cord　and　key　over　his　head。
　　　　　　　When　I　had　found　the　wooden　chests　and　unlocked　them；　I　began　to　pull　out　and　examine　my　stepfather's　forbidden　books；　leafing　quickly　and　quietly　through　each　in　turn；　with　one　ear　cocked　for　changes　in　his　breathing。　Most　of　the　plainbourid　volumes　were　written　in　tongues　I　did　not　know；　two　or　three　in　characters　I　could　not　even　recognize。　Those　of　which　I　could　understand　a　little　seemed　to　contain　either　tales　of　the　fairy…folk　or　stories　about　the　High　Keep　during　the　time　of　the　Northmen。
　　　　　　　A　good　part　of　an　hour　had　passed　when　1　discovered　a　loosely…bound　book　titled　Writings　of　Vargellis　Sulis；　Seventh　Lord　of　Honsa　Sulis；　Now　Master　of　the　Sulean　House　in　Exile。　My　stepfather's　careful　hand　filled　the　first　pages　densely；　then　grew　larger　and　more　imperfect　as　it　continued；　until　the　final　pages　seemed　almost　to　have　been　scribed　by　a　child　still　learning　letters。
　　　　　　　A　noise　from　the　bed　startled　me；　but　my　stepfather　had　only　grunted　and　turned　on　his　side。　I　continued　through　the　book　as　swiftly　as　I　could。　It　seemed　to　be　only　the　most　recent　of　a　lifetime's　worth　of　writings　…　the　earliest　dates　in　the　volume　were　from　the　first　year　we　had　lived　in　the　High　Keep。　The　bulk　of　the　pages　listed　tasks　to　be　performed　in　the　High　Keep's　rebuilding；　and　records　of　important　judgements　Sulis　had　made　as　lord　of　the　keep　and　its　tenant　lands。　There　were　other　notations　of　a　more　personal　nature；　but　they　were　brief　and　unelaborated。　For　that　terrible　day　almost　three　years　earlier；　he　had　written　only：　Cynethrith　Dead　of　Chest　fever。　She　shall　be　Buried　on　the　Headland。
　　　　　　　The　sole　mention　of　me　was　a　single　sentence　from　several　months　before　…　Breda　happy　Today。　It　was　oddly　painful　to　me　that　my　sombre　stepfather　should　have　noticed　that　and　made　a　record　of　it。
　　　　　　　The　later　pages　held　almost　no　mention　of　the　affairs　of　either　home　or　governance；　as　in　daily　life　Sulis　had　also　lost　interest　in　both。　Instead；　there　were　more　and　more　notes　that　seemed　to　be　about　things　he　had　read　in　other　books　…　one　said　Plesinnen　claims　that　Mortality　is　consumed　in　God　as　a　Flame　consumes　Branch　or　Bough。　How　then　。。。　with　the　rest　smudged　…　one　word　might　have　been　nails；　and　further　on　I　could　make　out　Holy　Tree。　Another　of　his　notes　listed　several　Doorways　that　had　been　located　by　someone　named　Nisses；　with　explanations　next　to　each　that　explained　nothing　at　all　…　Shifted；　read　my　stepfather's　shaky　hand　beside　one；　or　from　a　Time　of　No　Occupation；　or　even；　Met　a　Dark　Thing。
　　　　　　　It　was　only　on　the　last　two　pages　that　I　found　references　to　the　woman　in　the　cell　below　the　throne　room。
　　　　　　　Have　at　Last　rec'd　Word　of　the　woman　called　Valada；　the　scrawl　stated。　No　one　else　Living　North　of　Perdruin　has　Knowledge　of　the　Black　Fire。　She　must　be　Made　to　Speak　what　she　knows。　Below　that；　in　another　day's　even　less　disciplined　hand；　was　written；　The