ggk.asongforarbonne-第96部分

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　the　north　and　knows　his　words　have　carried。　He　stops；　sucks　air；　speaks　again；　to　a　coran　in　their　party　now；　one　of　his　own；　a　rasped　mand：　〃Bergen；　ride　back　to　the　army。　These　are　my　orders；　you　are　charged　with　them：　the　corans　of　Garsenc　are　not　to　fight　for　this　man。〃　He　pauses；　then　says　it：　〃Follow　my　brother　now。〃
　　It　is　done；　spoken；　and　not　actually　so　hard　as　he　would　have　expected　it　to　be。　He　takes　his　eyes　from　the　king　long　enough　to　meet　those　of　the　leader　of　his　corans。　He　sees　Bergen　hesitate；　then　nod；　a　movement　jerky　with　surprise　and　fear。　He　sees　him　twitch　his　horse's　reins　to　obey。　He　turns　back　then；　because　he　must；　to　deal　with　the　onrush　of　the　suddenly　enraged　king。
　　Ranald　de　Garsenc　offers　his　soul　then；　in　genuine　diffidence；　to　Corannos；　and　decides；　on　impulse；　to　do　one　last　thing；　more　for　the　bittersweet　irony　of　it　than　anything　else。　Something　from　childhood　to　leave　them　with。　He　wonders　if　anyone　will　actually　realize　or　recognize　what　it　is　he　is　doing。　Blaise　might；　he　thinks　wistfully；　and　then　stops　thinking　for　there　is　no　time；　Ademar's　sword　is　swinging　and　the　dance　is　nearly　done。
　　For　those　watching；　events　happened　very　quickly　then。
　　Blaise　had　turned　from　the　fight　when　Ranald；　sword　flamboyantly　raised；　shouted　to　the　armies　and　then　spoke　his　astonishing　instructions　to　Bergen；　the　long…time　captain　of　the　Garsenc　corans。　His　heart　jumped　as　he　realized　what　his　brother　was　doing；　and　he　saw　Bergen；　dead　loyal　all　his　life；　acknowledge　and　move　to　obey。
　　Bergen　of　Garsenc　was　felled　by　a　swordstroke　from　behind　before　he　had　even　fully　turned　his　horse。　Borsiard　d'Andoria；　elegant；　unsmiling；　slid　his　long　blade　carelessly　free　of　the　coran's　body　and　they　saw　Bergen　fall　to　the　ground。　The　Portezzan　looked　deliberately　over　at　Blaise；　and　then　he　did　smile。
　　There　came　a　shout　of　anger　and　unease　from　among　the　army　of　Gorhaut。　They　had　heard　Ranald's　cry　and　had　now　seen　the　Portezzan　slay　one　of　their　own。　Some　men　from　each　army　began　moving　closer；　which　was　dangerous。
　　Blaise　had　no　time　to　deal　with　that；　or　with　Borsiard　just　then；　for　even　as　he　was　registering　these　things　in　a　stray；　random　memory　was　being　jogged　from　far　back　in　childhood；　from　the　days　when　he　used　to　watch　his　brother　train　with　the　corans　in　the　courtyard。　There　had　been　something　about　that　elaborately　showy；　sword…upraised　gesture　of　Ranald's；　a　deliberate　echo　of　something；　a　game；　a　frivolity。
　　And　then　memory　sprang　clear；　and　with　a　sound　that　he　only　realized　afterwards　had　been　his　brother's　name；　Blaise　wheeled　back　to　watch　what　was　going　to　be　the　ending；　one　way　or　the　other。
　　He　had　only　ever　seen　this　done　as　a　jest　among　friends；　and　that　had　been　twenty　years　ago。　The　uplifted　sword　was　the　invitation；　almost　too　transparent；　luring　one's　opponent　to　venture　a　backhanded　side…stroke　at　the　exposed　right　side。　What　used　to　follow；　when　this　was　tried　in　the　tiltyard　at　Garsenc；　was　a　silly；　undignified　manoeuvre　that　had　usually　left　both　batants　rolling　in　the　dust；　swearing　and　laughing。
　　There　was　no　laughter　by　the　shore　of　Lake　Dierne。　Blaise　watched　the　king　of　Gorhaut　succumb　pletely　to　the　ruse；　driven　by　his　fury　at　Ranald's　orders　to　his　men。　Ademar　launched　a　wild　stroke　of　such　force　it　would　have　half…severed　Ranald's　torso　through　the　links　of　his　armour　had　it　landed。
　　It　didn't　land。　Ranald　de　Garsenc　flattened　himself　on　his　horse's　neck　and　let　fall　his　sword　as　Ademar's　blade　whistled　over　his　head　biting　nothing　but　air。　The　king's　motion　carried　him　lurching　sideways　in　his　saddle　and　partly　turned　his　horse。　By　the　time　he　began；　cursing；　to　straighten；　Ranald；　lightly　armoured　as　always；　had　hurled　himself　from　his　horse　towards　the　back　of　the　king's　saddle。　Very　much　like　a　boy；　Blaise　was　thinking；　like　the　boy　for　whom　all　of　this　had　been　discovery　and　exhilaration；　with　pain　and　sorrow　and　ageing　quite　inconceivable　concepts。
　　Ranald　actually　made　it。　Landed；　almost　neatly；　behind　Ademar；　swinging　a　leg　across　the　horse's　rump。　He　was　already　grappling　at　his　waist　for　the　knife　that　would　kill　the　king　when　the　crossbow　dart　caught　him　above　the　collarbone　and　buried　itself　in　his　throat。
　　The　half…drawn　dagger　fell　from　splayed　ringers　and　a　moment　later　Ranald　de　Garsenc　slid　slowly　to　the　ground　to　lie　beside　it　in　the　winter　grass。　Blood　was　pulsing　from　his　neck；　bright　red　in　the　sunlight。
　　Above　him；　controlling　his　horse　with　an　effort；　Ademar　of　Gorhaut　looked　down　upon　him；　and　then　at　the　man　who　had　fired　that　small；　hidden　crossbow。
　　〃You　interfered　in　a　challenge；〃　said　the　king　of　Gorhaut。　His　voice　was　thin；　disbelieving。　He　was　visibly　shaken。
　　〃Would　you　prefer　to　be　dead　right　now？〃　asked　Galbert　de　Garsenc；　High　Elder　of　Gorhaut。　He　didn't　even　look　at　the　body　of　his　son。　Ademar　made　no　reply。　There　was　no　growing　tumult　now　to　the　north　of　them。
　　〃Watch　him；〃　Blaise　said　to　no　one　in　particular；　and　slid　from　his　horse。　Ignoring　Ademar　pletely；　he　knelt　beside　his　brother。　He　heard　footsteps　behind　him　but　did　not　turn。　Ranald's　eyes　were　closed；　he　was　still　alive；　but　only　just。　With　all　the　care　in　the　world　Blaise　shifted　him　a　little；　so　he　could　lay　his　brother's　head　in　his　lap。　Blood　from　the　wound　had　already　soaked　the　ground；　now　it　began　to　seep　into　his　clothing。
　　From　above　and　behind　he　heard　his　father　say　to　the　king　of　Gorhaut；　〃I　have　not　e　this　close　to　be　balked　by　a　drunkard's　folly　or　your　own　carelessness。〃
　　Ranald　opened　his　eyes　then；　and　Blaise　saw　that　his　brother　was　aware　of　him。　A　faint；　genuine　smile；　crossed　Ranald's　face。
　　〃It　would　have　worked；〃　he　whispered。　〃I　only　tried　it　as　a　jest。〃
　　〃Spare　your　strength；〃　Blaise　murmured。
　　Ranald　shook　his　head　slightly。　〃No　point；〃　he　managed　to　say。　〃I　can　feel　poison。　There　is　syvaren　on　the　dart。〃
　　Of　course。　Of　course　there　was。　This　time　it　was　Blaise　who　closed　his　eyes；　feeling　grief　and　a　terrible；　ancient　rage　threatening　to　overwhelm　him。　He　fought　desperately　for　control；　and　when　he　opened　his　eyes　again　saw　that　Ranald's　gaze　had　moved　away　now；　to　someone　beyond　Blaise。
　　〃I　have　no　right　to　ask　for　anything；〃　he　heard　his　brother　whisper。　Blaise　looked　over　his　shoulder　then　and　saw　Rosala　standing　there；　tall　and　grave。
　　〃I　know　you　do　not；〃　she　agreed　quietly；　adhering；　even　at　the　last；　to　her　own　inner　laws。　〃But　I　have　the　right　to　grant　what　I　wish。〃　She　hesitated；　and　Blaise　thought　she　would　kneel　but　she　did　not。　She　said；　very　calmly；　〃It　was　bravely　done　at　the　end；　Ranald。〃
　　There　was　a　silence。　Far　off；　Blaise　heard　noises　that　sounded　like　men　fighting。　He　ought　to　turn；　he　knew；　this　mattered　so　much；　but　he　could　not。
　　Ranald　said；　〃Guard　him　if　you　can。　Cadar；　I　mean。〃　And　then；　so　softly　it　was　difficult　to　hear；　〃It　is　a　fine　name。〃　It　was　in　that　moment　that　Blaise　thought　he　felt　his　heart　beginning　to　break；　hearing　the　unspoken　thing；　the　lost　lifetime　of　sorrow　beneath　those　words。
　　And　Rosala　seemed　to　hear　it　too；　for　she　did　kneel　then；　neatly；　in　the　blood…soaked　grass　beside　her　husband。　She　did　not　reach　out　to　touch　him；　but　Blaise　heard　her　say；　in　that　same　grave；　calm　voice；　〃Cadar　Ranald　de　Garsenc　now。　You　have　earned　as　much。　If　it　pleases　you；　my　lord。〃
　　Through　a　blurring　of　tears　Blaise　saw　his　older　brother　smile　then　for　the　last　time　and　heard　him　say；　no　more　than　a　breath　now；　〃It　pleases　me；　my　lady。〃
　　He　seemed　to　be　gripping　both　of　Ranald's　hands…he　couldn't　actually　remember　taking　them…and　he　was　almost　certain　he　felt　a　pressure　then；　the　strong　fingers　squeezing　his　for　a　moment；　before　they　went　slack。
　　Blaise　looked　down　at　his　dead　brother；　feeling　the　cold　wind　passing　over　the　two　of　them。　He　slipped　one　hand　free　after　a　time　and　closed　Ranald's　eyes。　He　had　seen　a　great　many　dead　men。　Sometimes　their　faces　seemed　to　bee　calm　and　peaceful　when　life　passed　out　of　them　and　they　began　their　second　journey　to　the　god。　Ranald　looked　as　he　always　had；　though；　perhaps　when　it　was　someone　you　knew　well　the　forting　illusions　of　grace　were　harder　to　find。
　　He　hadn't　actually　said　farewell；　he　realized。　He　hadn't　said　anything。　Spare　your　strength；　had　been　his　only　words。　Fatuous；　really；　to　a　man　with　a　dart　in　his　neck　and　syvaren　running　cold　through　him。　Perhaps　the　touching；　their　hands　holding　each　other；　perhaps　that　would　have　been　enough。　It　would　have　to　be；　there　was　never　going　to　be　more。
　　He　made　himself　look　up。　Ademar；　still　visibly　shaken　by　what　had　happened；　was　on　his　horse　above　them。　Blaise　said　nothing　to　him　at　all。　He　looked　over　his　shoulder　and　saw　that　his　father　was　still　holding　the　tiny；　lethal　crossbow　he　had　brought　hidden　to　this　place。　The　ancient　rules　of　such　things；　the　rituals　and　laws　of　parleys　or　challenges；　would　mean　nothing　to　Galbert。　Blaise　had　always　known　that。　Ademar　hadn't；　it　seemed。
　　The　king　of　Gorhaut　would　be　wondering　how　he　was　going　to　hold　up　his　head　among　the　nations　now…even　before　his　own　people…after　being　so　shamefully　rescued　in　the　midst　of　a　formal　challenge。　It　would　probably　make　sense　to　taunt　him；　to　unsettle　him　further；　but　Blaise　had　no　heart　for　that　at　all。　In　fact；　at　another　time；　another　place　in　the　world；　he　might　even　have　been　able　to　feel　sorry　for　Ademar；　who　would　only　now　perhaps　be　discovering　the　degree　to　which　even　he　was　simply　another　instrument　of　Galbert　de　Garsenc's　designs。
　　He　seemed　to　be　looking　down　at　his　brother　again；　as　if　trying　to　memorize　Ranald's　features；　so　like　and　yet　unlike　his　own。　〃You　had　best　get　up；〃　he　heard　Rosala　say；　as　if　from　a　distance。　She　herself　had　risen　again。　He　looked　up　at　her。　She　had　never　appeared　to　him　to　so　much　resemble　one　of　the　spear…maidens　of　Corannos；　straight…backed　and　proud；　a　figure　from　a　chapel　frieze；　her　face　seeming　as　if　sculptured　in　stone。　Her　level　gaze　met　his。　〃He　died　as　a　man　with　mourning；〃　said　Rosala　de　Savaric　de　Garsenc；　〃but　it　seems　that　this　battle　has　begun。〃
　　It　seemed　that　it　had。
　　He　slipped　his　hands　under　Ranald's　head　and　lifted　it　so　he　could　slide　himself　free；　then　he　laid