ggk.asongforarbonne-第24章

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　Garsenc　is　ever　going　to　be。
　　She　doesn't　know　what　she　will　tell　her　husband　if　he　asks　for　her　thoughts　that　evening。　She　suspects　he　will。　And　she　is　almost　certain　she　does　know　what　his　father's　designs　are　and；　even　more；　that　the　king　is　going　to　move　with　them。　Ademar　is　being　guided；　as　a　capricious　stallion　by　a　master　horsebreaker；　towards　a　destination　Galbert　has　likely　wanted　to　reach　for　more　years　than　anyone　knows。　King　Duergar　of　Gorhaut　had　not　been　a　man　susceptible　to　the　persuasion　of　anyone　in　his　court；　including　his　clergy…perhaps　especially　his　clergy…and　so　the　High　Elder's　access　to　real　power　dates　back　only　to　the　precise　moment　when　a　Valensan　arrow；　arching　through　a　wintry　twilight；　found　Duergar's　eye　in　that　grim；　cold　battle　by　Iersen　Bridge　a　year　and　a　half　ago。
　　And　now　Duergar　is　dead　and　burned　on　his　pyre；　and　his　handsome　son　rules　in　Cortil；　and　there　is　a　peace　signed　in　the　north　disinheriting　a　quarter　of　the　people　of　Gorhaut；　whether　of　high　estate　or　low。　Which　means…surely　anyone　could　see　it　if　they　only　stopped　to　look…one　thing　that　will　have　to　follow。　Instinctively；　a　motion　of　withdrawal　as　much　a　reflex　as　a　forest　creature's　retreat　from　a　tongue　of　flame；　Rosala　turns　back　to　the　window。　It　is　springtime　in　Gorhaut；　but　the　grey　rains　show　no　signs　of　ending　and　the　damp　chill　can　ache　in　one's　very　bones。
　　It　will　be　warmer；　she　knows；　warmer　and　softer　and　with　a　far　more　benevolent　light　in　the　sky；　in　Arbonne。　In　woman…ruled　Arbonne；　with　its　Court　of　Love；　its　wide；　rich；　sun…blessed　lands；　its　sheltered；　weling　harbours　on　the　southern　sea　and　its　heresy　of　Rian　the　goddess　ruling　alongside　the　god；　not　crouched　in　maidenly　subservience　beneath　his　iron　hand。
　　〃We　will　have　much　to　speak　of　yet；〃　Galbert　de　Garsenc　is　saying；　〃before　summer　draws　fully　upon　us；　and　to　you　my　liege　will　rightly　fall　all　decisions　that　must　be　made　and　the　great　burden　of　them。〃　He　raises　his　voice；　Rosala　does　not　turn　back　from　the　window。　She　knows　what　he　is　about　to　say；　where　he　is　taking　the　king；　taking　all　of　them。　〃But　as　High　Elder　of　Corannos　in　this　most　ancient；　holy　land　where　the　god　was　born；　I　will　say　this　to　you；　my　liege；　and　to　all　those　gathered　here。　Thanks　to　your　great　wisdom；　Gorhaut　is　at　peace　in　the　north　for　the　first　time　in　the　lifetime　of　most　of　those　here。　We　need　not　draw　axe　and　sword　to　guard　our　borders　and　our　fields　from　Valensa。　The　pride　and　the　might　of　this　country　under　King　Ademar　is　as　great　as　it　has　ever　been　in　our　long　history；　and　ours　is　still　and　ever　the　holy　stewardship　through　the　six　countries　of　the　power　of　the　god。　In　these　halls　walk　the　descendants　of　the　first　corans…the　earliest　brothers　of　the　god…who　ever　bestrode　the　hills　and　valleys　of　the　known　world。　And　it　may　be…if　you；　my　liege；　should　decide　to　make　it　so…that　to　us　will　fall　a　scourging　task　worthy　of　our　great　fathers。　Worthy　of　the　greatest　bards　ever　to　lift　voice　in　celebration　of　the　mighty　of　their　day。〃
　　Oh；　clever；　Rosala　thinks。　Oh；　very　neatly　done；　my　lord。　Her　eyes　are　fixed　on　what　lies　beyond　the　window；　on　the　mist　rolling　in　over　the　moors。　She　wants　to　be　out　there　alone　on　a　horse；　even　in　rain；　even　with　the　child　quickening　in　her　womb；　far　from　this　smoky　hall；　these　voices　and　rancours　and　sour　desires；　far　from　the　honey…smooth　manipulations　of　the　High　Elder　behind　her。
　　〃Beyond　the　mountains　south　of　us　they　mock　Corannos；〃　Galbert　says；　passion　now　infusing　his　voice。　〃They　live　under　the　god's　own　bright　sun；　which　is　his　most　gracious　gift　to　man；　and　they　mock　his　sovereignty。　They　demean　him　with　temples　to　a　woman；　a　foul　goddess　of　midnight　and　magics　and　the　blood…stained　rites　of　women。　They　cripple　and　wound　our　beloved　Corannos　with　this　heresy。　They　unman　him；　or　they　think　they　do。〃　His　voice　sinks　again；　towards　intimacy；　the　nuanced　notes　of　a　different　kind　of　power。　The　whole　room　is　with　him　now　as　in　the　foils　of　a　spell；　Rosala　can　sense　it；　even　the　women　beside　her　are　leaning　forward　slightly；　lips　parted；　waiting。
　　〃They　think　they　do；〃　Galbert　de　Garsenc　repeats　softly。　〃In　time；　in　our　time　if　we　are　worthy；　they　shall　learn　their　folly；　their　endless；　eternal　folly；　and　holy　Corannos　shall　not　be　mocked　in　the　lanes　of　the　Arbonne　River　ever　again。〃
　　He　does　not　end　on　a　rousing　note；　it　is　not　yet　time。　This　is　a　first　proclamation　only；　a　beginning；　a　muted　instrument　sounded　amid　smoking　fires　and　a　late；　cold　spring；　with　slanting　rains　outside　and　mist　on　the　moors。
　　〃We　will　withdraw；〃　the　king　of　Gorhaut　says　at　length　in　his　high　voice；　breaking　the　stillness。　〃We　will　take　private　counsel　with　our　Elder　of　the　god。〃　He　rises　from　the　throne；　a　tall；　handsome；　physically　manding　man；　and　his　court　sinks　low　in　genuflection　like　stalks　of　corn　before　the　wind。
　　It　is　so　clear；　Rosala　is　thinking　as　she　rises　to　her　feet　again；　so　clear　what　is　to　e。
　　〃Do　tell　me；　my　dear；〃　Adelh　de　Sauvan　murmurs；　materializing　at　her　elbow；　〃have　you　any　late　tidings　of　your　much…travelled　brother…in…law？〃
　　Rosala　stiffens。　A　mistake；　and　she　knows　it　immediately。　She　forces　herself　to　smile　blandly；　but　Adelh　is　a　master　at　catching　one　unawares。
　　〃Nothing　recent；　I　fear；〃　she　answers　calmly。　〃He　was　still　in　Portezza；　the　last　we　heard；　but　that　was　some　months　ago。　He　doesn't　municate　very　much。　If　he　does；　I　shall　be　most　certain　to　convey　your　anxious　interest。〃
　　A　weak　shaft；　that　one；　and　Adelh　only　smiles；　her　dark　eyes　lustrous。　〃Please　do；〃　she　replies。　〃I　would　think　any　woman　would　be　interested　in　that　one。　Such　an　acplished　man；　Blaise；　an　equal；　a　rival　even　to　his　great　father　I　sometimes　think。〃　She　pauses；　precisely　long　enough。　〃Though　hardly　to　your　dear　husband；　of　course。〃　She　says　it　with　the　sweetest　expression　imaginable　on　her　face。
　　Two　other　women　e　up　just　then；　blessedly　freeing　Rosala　from　the　need　to　frame　a　reply。　She　waits　long　enough　for　courtesy　to　be　served　and　then　moves　away　from　the　window。　She　is　cold　suddenly；　and　wants　very　much　to　leave。　She　cannot　do　so　without　Ranald；　though；　and　she　sees；　with　a　brief　inward　yielding　to　despair；　that　he　has　refilled　his　flagon；　and　his　dice　and　purse　are　on　the　table　in　front　of　him　now。
　　She　moves　towards　the　nearest　of　the　fires　and　stands　with　her　back　to　the　blaze。　In　her　mind　she　goes　back　over　that　short；　unsettling　exchange　with　Adelh。　She　cannot　stop　herself　from　wondering　what；　if　anything；　the　woman　could　possibly　know。　It　is　only　malice；　she　finally　decides；　only　the　unthinking；　effortless　malice　that　defined　Adelh　de　Sauvan　even　before　her　husband　died　with　King　Duergar　by　Iersen　Bridge。　An　instinct　for　blood；　something　predatory。
　　Rosala　has　a　sudden　recollection；　involuntary　and　frightening；　of　the　starving　cats　and　the　torn；　dying　hound。　She　shivers。　Unconsciously　her　hands　e　up　to　rest　upon　her　belly；　as　if　to　cradle　and　shelter　from　the　waiting　world　the　life　taking　shape　within　her。
　　
　　The　light　was　the　extraordinary　thing；　the　way　in　which　the　sun　in　a　deep　blue　sky　seemed　to　particularize　everything；　to　render　each　tree；　bird　on　the　wing；　darting　fox；　blade　of　grass；　something　vividly　bright　and　immediate。　Everything　seemed　to　somehow　be　more　of　whatever　it　was　here；　sharper；　more　brilliantly　defined。　The　late…afternoon　breeze　from　the　west　took　the　edge　off　the　heat　of　the　day；　even　the　sound　of　it　in　the　leaves　was　refreshing。　Though　that；　on　reflection；　was　ridiculous：　the　sound　of　the　wind　in　the　trees　was　exactly　the　same　in　Gorhaut　or　Gotzland　as　it　was　here　in　Arbonne；　there　just　seemed　to　be　something　about　this　country　that　steered　the　mind　towards　such　imaginings。
　　A　troubadour；　Blaise　thought；　riding　through　afternoon　sunshine；　would　probably　be　singing　by　now；　or　posing；　or　shaping　some　quite　unintelligible　thought　based　on　the　symbolic　language　of　flowers。　There　were　certainly　enough　flowers。　A　troubadour　would　know　the　names　of　all　of　them；　of　course。　Blaise　didn't；　partly　because　there　were　varieties　of　extravagantly　coloured　wildflowers　here　in　Arbonne　that　he'd　never　seen　before；　even　among　the　celebrated；　rolling　countrysi