ggk.asongforarbonne-第23部分

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ion。　Twenty…three　years；　Blaise　remembered；　suddenly。　The　last　thing　he'd　heard　this　man　say；　in　the　dark　of　a　stairway；　speaking　of　a　woman　long　ago：　So　much　longer　than　I　thought　I　would　live。
　　〃Wele　to　Talair；〃　Bertran　said。　The　scar　on　his　cheek　was　prominent　in　the　clear　light。　He　was　dressed　much　as　he　had　been　when　he　came　to　Baude；　in　a　coran's　clothing　made　for　the　outdoors。　His　hair　was　uncovered；　disordered　by　the　wind。　He　smiled　thinly；　a　crook　of　his　mouth。　〃How　does　it　feel　to　have　made　an　enemy　before　you　even　report？〃
　　〃I　have　my　share　of　enemies；〃　Blaise　said　mildly。　He　felt　calmer　now；　the　ride　across　the　lake　and　the　memory　of　that　dark　stairwell　in　Baude　had　taken　away　the　last　of　his　battle　mood。　〃One　more　or　one　less　should　not　matter　greatly。　The　god　will　take　me　when　he　is　ready。〃　He　raised　his　voice　slightly　on　that　last；　for　someone　else's　benefit。　〃Do　you　really　think　the　duke　of　Miraval　will　bother　hating　me　for　guarding　my　life　when　attacked？〃
　　〃Urté？　He　could；〃　Bertran　said　judiciously。　〃Though　it　wasn't　him　I　was　thinking　of；　actually。〃　He　looked　for　a　moment　as　if　he　would　explain；　but　then　he　turned　instead　and　began　walking　towards　the　castle。　〃e；〃　he　said　over　his　shoulder；　〃there　is　meat　and　drink　inside　and　after　we　will　help　you　choose　a　horse　from　the　stable。〃
　　Broad…shouldered；　greying　Valery　stepped　forward　and　extended　an　arm。　Blaise　hesitated　a　moment；　then　grasped　it；　pulling　himself　forward　onto　the　dock。　His　gear　had　already　been　lifted　up　by　three　other　men。　Blaise　turned　back　to　the　boat。　Already　the　line　had　been　untied　and　the　small　craft　was　beginning　to　glide　back　out　over　the　water。　The　young　priestess　had　her　back　to　him；　but　then；　as　if　aware　that　he　was　looking；　she　turned。
　　She　said　nothing；　nor　did　Blaise　as　the　distance　between　boat　and　shore　slowly　increased。　Her　hair　gleamed　in　the　still　warm　light　of　the　setting　sun。　The　owl　on　her　shoulder　gazed　away　to　the　west。　More　apt　than　you　know；　she　had　said　on　that　western　shore；　responding　with　weighty　sobriety　to　an　attempted　irony。　He　didn't　understand　what　she'd　meant；　he　didn't　understand　it　at　all；　and　within　him　a　spark　of　rekindled　anger　blazed。　He'd　meant　to　say　goodbye　and　to　thank　her；　but　instead　he　watched　for　another　moment　and　then　turned　away　impassively。
　　Valery　was　waiting　for　him。　Bertran's　cousin　had　a　wry　expression　on　his　face。
　　〃Six　men？〃　he　said。　〃Fair　to　say　you　aren't　arriving　quietly。〃
　　〃Five；　and　a　catamite　from　Arimonda；〃　Blaise　said　tersely。　His　anger　was　mostly　gone　though；　he　felt　tired　more　than　anything　else。　〃I　was　riding　quietly　enough；　and　on　the　road。　They　shot　my　horse。〃
　　〃The　Arimondan；〃　Valery　murmured；　looking　out　to　sea　after　the　withdrawing　boat。　〃Remind　me　to　tell　you　about　him　later。〃
　　〃Why　bother？〃　Blaise　said。　〃He's　dead。〃
　　Valery　glanced　curiously　at　him　a　moment；　then　shrugged。　He　turned　and　began　walking。　Blaise　fell　into　step　beside　him。　The　two　men　went　along　the　length　of　the　pier　and　then　up　the　narrow；　increasingly　steep　path　towards　the　castle　of　Talair。　They　came　to　the　heavy　doors；　which　were　open；　and　they　passed　within　to　the　sound　of　music　playing。
　　
　　PART　II…Midsummer
　　CHAPTER　4
　　Walking　briskly　through　the　crowded　streets；　calling　cheerful　replies　to　people　she　knew　and　to　some　she　didn't；　Lisseut　was　reminded　over　and　again　why　the　Midsummer　Carnival　in　Tavernel　was　her　favourite　time　of　the　year。　Colours　and　crowds　and　light；　the　knowledge　of　a　season's　touring　ended　with　time　before　another　began；　the　hinge　and　axis　of　the　year。　Midsummer　was　a　time　between　times；　a　space　in　the　round　of　the　year　where　all　seemed　in　suspension；　when　anything　might　happen　or　be　allowed。　After　nightfall；　she　thought；　that　would　certainly　be　true　in　a　variety　of　ways。
　　A　masked　figure　clad　in　green　and　bright　yellow　sprang　in　front　of　her；　arms　outspread；　in　a　mock　growl　that　clashed　with　his　birdlike　costume　he　demanded　an　embrace　as　passersby　laughed。　Sidestepping　neatly；　Lisseut　pirouetted　out　of　his　grasp。　〃Bad　luck　to　kiss　a　singer　before　sundown！〃　she　called　over　her　shoulder。　She'd　made　that　one　up　two　years　back；　it　seemed　to　work。　And　by　sundown　she　was　usually　with　friends　and　so　shielded　from　anyone　ing　to　assert　a　deferred　claim。
　　Not　that　the　claims　would　ever　be　a　serious　problem。　Not　here；　and　not　for　her…too　many　people　knew　who　she　was　by　now；　and　even　among　the　wildest　of　the　students；　the　joglars　and　troubadours　had　an　exalted　status　in　Tavernel；　even　more　so　during　Carnival。　It　was　a　debauched　season；　but　one　with　its　hierarchies　and　rules　nonetheless。
　　As　she　crossed　Temple　Square；　where　the　silver　domes　of　Rian's　principal　shrine　faced　the　square；　golden　towers　of　Corannos's；　the　south　breeze　brought　her　an　almost　forgotten　tang　of　salt　from　the　port。　Lisseut　smiled；　glad　to　be　back　by　the　sea　after　a　long　winter　and　spring　touring　inland　and　in　the　mountains。　Reaching　the　far　side　of　the　square；　she　was　suddenly　overwhelmed　by　the　smells　of　cooking　food　and　remembered　that　she　hadn't　eaten　since　midday　on　the　road。　Easy　enough　to　forget　to　eat　in　haste　to　be　in　town；　knowing　how　many　friends　she'd　not　seen　for　a　year　would　be　arriving　that　day　and　the　next。　But　the　smells　reminded　her　that　she　was　ravenous。　She　nipped　into　a　cookshop　and　emerged　a　moment　later　chewing　on　a　leg　of　fried　chicken；　careful　to　keep　the　dripping　grease　from　staining　her　new　tunic。
　　The　tunic　was　a　present　to　herself　after　a　very　successful　spring　in　the　eastern　hills；　her　best　tour　yet　by　far。　First　at　the　goddess's　own　temple　for　a　fortnight；　and　then　at　lofty　Ravenc　Castle；　where　Gaufroy　de　Ravenc　had　been　more　than　generous　to　her　and　to　Alain　of　Rousset；　the　troubadour　with　whom　she'd　teamed　up　that　season。　She'd　even　had　untroubled　nights　there　in　a　room　all　to　herself　with　a　wonderfully　soft　bed；　since　En　Gaufroy　evidently　preferred　Alain's　charms　to　her　own。　Which　was　fine　with　Lisseut；　Alain's　clever　verses；　her　own　singing　and　whatever　took　place　in　the　lord's　chambers　at　night　had　led　Gaufroy　into　a　humour　of　exceptional　largess　when　it　came　time　for　the　two　of　them　to　leave。
　　When　she'd　briefly　parted　with　Alain　at　Rousset　town　a　few　days　after…he　was　planning　to　spend　some　time　with　his　family　before　ing　down　to　Tavernel；　and　she　was　mitted　to　a　performance　at　Corannos's　shrine　near　Gavela…he　was　highly　plimentary　about　her　work　and　invited　her　to　join　him　on　the　same　circuit　in　a　year's　time。　He　was　an　easy　man　to　work　for　and　Lisseut　found　his　songs　well…crafted　if　less　than　inspired；　she　had　had　no　hesitation　about　agreeing。　A　few　of　the　other　troubadours　might　offer　richer；　more　challenging　material　for　a　joglar…Jourdain；　Aurelian；　certainly　Remy　of　Orreze…but　there　was　much　to　be　said　for　Alain's　relaxed　congeniality；　and　something　also　to　be　said　for　the　bonus　his　night…time　skills　offered　with　the　priests　and　lords　at　certain　temples　and　castles。　Lisseut　considered　herself　honoured　to　have　been　asked；　it　was　her　first　repeat　contract　after　three　years　on　the　roads；　and　the　joglars　of　Arbonne　fought　and　schemed　for　such　offers　from　the　better…known　troubadours。　She　and　Alain　were　to　seal　the　agreement　at　the　Guildhall　before　Carnival　ended。　A　great　many　contracts　would　be　negotiated　and　sealed　this　week；　it　was　one　of　the　reasons　virtually　all　the　musicians　made　a　point　of　being　there。
　　There　were　other　reasons；　of　course；　Carnival　was　sacred　to　Rian；　as　all　Midsummer's　rites　were；　and　the　goddess　was　patroness　and　guardian　of　all　music　in　Arbonne；　and　so　of　all　the　itinerant　performers　who　crossed　back　and　forth　along　the　dusty　roads　singing　songs　and　shaping　them　in　the　name　of　love。　One　came　to　Tavernel　at　Midsummer　at　least　as　much　in　homage　to　Rian　as　for　anything　else。
　　That　said；　it　had　to　be　conceded　that　Carnival　was　also　the　wildest；　least　inhibited；　most　enjoyable　time　of　the　year　for　anyone　not　in　mourning；　or　incapacitated；　or　dead。
　　Lisseut　finished　her　chicken　leg；　paused　to　wipe　her　hands　with　elaborate　fastidiousness　on　the　apron　of　a　portly；　grinning　fruit　seller；　and　bought　an　orange　from　him。　She　rubbed　it　quickly　on　his　crotch　for　luck；　drawing　ribald　laughter　from　the　crowd　and　a　groan　of　mock　desire　from　the　man。　Laughing　herself；　feeling　glad　to　be　alive　and　young　and　a　singer　in　Arbonne　in　summer…time；　Lisseut　continued　down　towards　the　harbour　and　then　right　at　the　first　crossing　lane　and　saw　the　familiar；　much…loved　sign　of　The　Liensenne　swinging　above　the　street。
　　As　always；　it　felt　like　ing　home。　Home　was　really　Vezét；　of　course；　on　the　coast　further　east　with　the　famous　olive　groves　climbing　up　behind　it；　but　this；　the　original　〃Tavern　in　Tavernel〃　for　which　Anselme　of　Cauvas　had　written　his　song　years　and　years　ago；　was　a　kind　of　second　home　for　all　the　musicians　of　Arbonne。　Marotte；　the　proprietor；　had　served　as　a　surrogate　father　and　confidant　for　half　the　younger　joglars　and　poets　in　his　day；　including　Lisseut　herself　when　she　had　first　said　goodbye　to　her　parents　and　her　home　and　followed　her　troubadour　uncle　onto　the　road；　trusting　in　her　voice　and　music　to　feed　her　and　her　mother…wits　to　keep　her　alive。　Less　than　four　years　ago；　that　was。　It　seemed　a　much　longer　time。　Grinning；　she　jauntily　tipped　her　feathered　hat　to　the　lute…playing　figure　on　the　signboard…it　was　said　to　be　a　rendition　of　Folquet　de　Barbentain；　the　original　troubadour…count　himself…nodded　back　at　a　broad　wink　from　one　man　amongst　a　crowd　of　half　a　dozen　playing　pitch…coin　outside　the　door　and　stepped　inside。　She　knew　her　mistake　the　instant　she　did　so。　Knew　it　even　before　Remy's　exultant；　skirling　howl　of　triumph　assaulted　her　ears　over　the　din；　even　before　Aurelian；　standing　next　to　Remy；　intoned　〃Nine！〃　in　a　voice　deep　as　doom；　even　before　she　saw　the　flushed　hilarious　crowd　of　musicians　holding　a　dripping；　moustachioed；　furiously　expostulating　Arimondan　upside…down　over　the　accursed　basin　of　water；　preparing　to　dunk　him　again。　Even　before　the　covey　of　coin…pitchers　outside　pushed　quickly　in　right　behind　her；　cackling　in　glee。
　　She　knew　this　tradition；　in　Rian's　holy　name！　What　had　she　been　thinking　of？　She'd　even　nodded　like　a　fatuous　bumpkin　at　the　people　gathered　o