ggk.asongforarbonne-第118节

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　　There　was　the　other　man　as　well；　the　one　who　was　soon　to　be　made　king　of　Gorhaut。　He　had　fought　for　Arbonne　today　against　his　own　people。　She　had　seen　him；　too；　twice。　Once　last　spring　and　again　this　morning　when　they　had　e　across　the　lake　to　take　the　countess　from　the　parley。　He　was　a　tall　man；　that　one；　bearded　as　the　northerners　all　were；　grim…looking　with　that；　but　a　message　had　e　from　Rian's　Island　last　spring　that　he　should　be　watched　for；　that　he　was　ing　their　way　and　might　be　important　to　them。　And　only　a　little　while　ago　this　afternoon　Ariane　de　Carenzu；　who　ought；　Rinette　supposed；　to　know　about　such　things；　had　said　that　he　was　a　good　man；　gentler　than　he　looked；　and　wiser；　carrying　burdens　with　which　he　would　need　someone's　help　in　the　days　and　years　to　e。
　　She　wondered　if　he　would　e　to　her　here。　If　it　would　begin　already。　She　wondered　if　her　father　would　e。　Abruptly　she　sat　down　on　one　of　the　stone　benches　by　the　fountain；　ignoring　the　cold。　Cold　was　easy　to　deal　with。　What　had　overtaken　her　today　was　not；　despite　the　self…possession　she　had　managed　to　preserve　with　Ariane。　It　had　been　an　overwhelming　day。　She　wished　she　could　hide；　sleep；　not　dream。　She　wanted　。。。　she　didn't　really　know　what　she　wanted。
　　She　suddenly　felt…and　could　not　remember　feeling　this　way　since　she'd　been　a　small　child…that　she　might　even　cry。　It　wasn't　Ariane's　fault；　it　wasn't　anyone's　fault。　She　was　sitting　in　the　walled　garden　of　her　father's　castle；　and　all　she　knew　of　her　father　were　the　endlessly　traded　stories　about　a　duke　who　wrote　the　finest　music　of　his　day　and　had　fought　in　wars　in　many　countries；　and　who　had　spent　more　than　twenty　years　pursuing　women　all　over　the　world　with　a　flamboyance　that　everyone　knew…everyone　knew…was　a　lifelong　attempt　to　deal　with　the　death　of　the　one　lady　he　had　ever　loved。　Her　mother。
　　I　am　afraid；　Rinette　said　to　herself　suddenly；　and　the　admission；　curiously；　seemed　to　help　her　gather　her　self…control　again。　I　am　not　going　to　burn　alive；　she　admonished　herself　sternly。　None　of　us　are　going　to　burn　now。　We　have　won；　by　grace　of　Rian；　who　has　given　us；　again；　more　than　we　have　ever　deserved　of　her。　These　changes　in　her　life；　she　told　herself；　were　only　that…changes　in　a　life。　Mortal　men　and　women　were　not　to　know…they　could　not　know…what　the　future　held　in　store　for　them；　except　for　the　fleeting；　wayward　glimpses　the　goddess　sometimes　granted　those　who　had　blinded　themselves　in　her　name。
　　That　was　not　to　be　her　path。　Her　path　began　here　in　this　garden；　walking　forth　with　whomever　came　to　lead　her　into　the　brightness　and　the　burdens　shaped　by　what；　it　seemed；　she　was。
　　Surely　it　was　all　right　to　be　a　little　afraid；　though？　Surely　that　could　be　allowed　of　someone　sitting　alone　at　dusk　in　a　winter　garden　dealing　with　the　loss　of　every　expectation　she　had　ever　had　of　her　life？
　　It　was　then　that　she　heard　a　footfall　on　the　walkway；　from　behind　her；　the　way　she　had　e。　She　looked　up　at　the　torches　for　a　moment　and　then；　a　little　blinded；　beyond　them　until　she　could　see　the　stars　again。　She　drew　a　long　breath　and　pushed　her　dark　hair　back　from　her　face。　Then　Rinette　rose；　straight…backed；　holding　her　head　high；　and　turned　to　meet　her　future。　There　was　a　solitary　figure　standing　at　the　end　of　the　path　that　led　to　this　foundation。
　　It　was　not　the　northerner　who　had　e；　nor；　yet；　her　father；　after　all。
　　She　knew　who　this　was；　of　course。　She　sank　to　her　knees　on　the　cold　ground。
　　〃Oh；　my　dear；〃　said　Signe　de　Barbentain；　the　countess　of　Arbonne；　〃I　am　so　desperately　happy　to　see　you；　and　so　very　sad　just　now。　So　many　years　we　have　lost；　you　and　I。　There　is　so　much　I　have　to　tell　you。　About　your　father　and　your　mother；　and　then　about　the　grandfather　you　never　knew；　who　would　have　loved　you　with　all　his　heart。〃
　　The　countess　came　closer　then；　moving　almost　hesitantly　into　the　light　of　the　torches；　and　Rinette　saw　that　she　was　crying；　tears　streaming　down　her　face　in　the　cold。　Rinette　rose　quickly；　instinctively；　a　queer　feeling　overtaking　her；　a　constriction　of　the　heart　and　throat。　She　heard　herself　make　a　sound　that　was　very　like　a　child's　cry；　and　she　moved　forward；　almost　running；　into　the　haven　of　her　grandmother's　arms。
　　
　　It　was　full　dark　now　in　the　valley　where　the　battle　had　been。　He　had　waited　patiently；　even　happily；　for　this。　The　moons　would　rise　soon；　both　very　bright　tonight；　spilling　their　rich；　mingled　light。　It　was　time　to　go。　There　were　no　fears　near　where　he　was；　no　soldiers　of　either　army　sleeping　or　on　watch　in　the　cold。
　　He　made　his　way　down　from　branch　to　branch；　surefooted　in　the　dark。　No　one　heard　him；　he　made　no　sound　for　anyone　to　hear。　Once　on　the　ground　he　slipped　away　west；　passing　close　by　the　forest；　going　the　long　way　around　to　where　he　had　left　his　horse　two　days　before；　north　of　the　Arch　of　the　Ancients。
　　The　stallion　was　hungry；　of　course。　He　was　sorry　for　that　but　there　had　been　nothing　to　do　about　it。　He　had　left　food　in　a　sack　nearby　and　he　fed　the　horse　now；　patting　and　rubbing　its　long　neck；　speaking　tenderly。　He　felt　deeply　at　peace；　as　one　with　the　night　and　the　murmuring　trees　all　around　him。　He　knelt；　on　impulse；　and　prayed。
　　There　was　so　much　gratitude　in　his　heart　he　felt　it　might　overflow。　He　had　done　exactly　what　he　had　e　here　to　do。　What　he　had　been　preparing　for…though　in　ignorance；　following　instructions　only…since　the　early　days　of　autumn。
　　It　was　time　to　go　now；　to　be　away　south　before　the　bright　moons　rose。　He　saddled　the　horse　and　mounted　and　began　to　ride。
　　I　want　you　to　learn　a　new　way　of　shooting；　the　High　Priestess　had　told　him　on　the　island　in　the　sea。　And　she　had　sent　him　to　a　place　where　no　one　ever　went；　to　learn　to　do　what　she　wanted　done。　He　had　always　been　able　to　handle　a　bow；　but　what　she　asked　was　odd；　inexplicable。　He　didn't　need　things　explained；　though；　he　was　honoured　beyond　words　to　have　been　chosen。　He　spent　the　whole　of　the　autumn　practising；　learning　to　hit　targets　with　the　high；　arching　trajectories　she　had　specified。　Over　and　over；　day　by　day　as　the　weeks　passed；　he　went　off　alone　to　the　eastern　end　of　the　island　and　practised。
　　He　learned。　He　told　her　one　day　that　he　thought　he　had　mastered　that　new；　strange　shooting　as　best　he　ever　would。　She　sent　him　back　that　very　day　to　begin　again；　the　same　arching　bowshots　aimed　at　the　apex　of　the　sky；　but　now　he　was　to　do　them　while　nestled　in　the　branches　of　a　tree。　He　did　that；　too；　day　after　day；　week　after　week；　as　winter　came　to　Rian's　Island　and　the　first　flocks　of　birds　from　the　north　filled　their　skies。
　　Then；　one　day；　the　High　Priestess　summoned　him　again；　and　alone　in　her　chambers；　with　only　the　white　owl　to　watch　his　face　as　he　reacted　to　what　she　said；　she　told　him　what　his　task　was　to　be；　the　thing　he　had　been　training　to　do。
　　The　goddess；　she　told　him；　will　sometimes　intercede　for　us；　but　she　always　wants　to　see　that　we　have　tried　to　aid　ourselves。　He　understood　that；　it　made　sense　to　him。　In　the　natural　world　a　deer　might　e　to　you；　but　only　if　you　were　out　in　the　forest；　upwind　and　silent；　not　if　you　stayed　at　home　on　a　bench　before　the　fire。　She　told　him　then…and　her　words　made　him　begin　to　tremble　with　awe…where　he　was　to　go；　and　she　even　described　the　tree　he　would　claim　before　the　armies　came　to　the　valley　by　Lake　Dierne。
　　He　was　to　wait　in　that　tree；　the　High　Priestess　told　him；　her　hands　clasped　together　in　her　lap；　for　a　moment　that　might　e　if　Rian　offered　them　her　grace…a　moment　when　he　might　kill　the　king　of　Gorhaut。　No　man　or　woman；　she　told　him；　not　even　any　priest　or　priestess；　knew　what　he　was　being　sent　to　do。　No　one　was　ever　to　know。　He　had　knelt　before　her　then　and　sworn　the　holiest　oath　he　knew。　He　had　felt　her　strong　fingers　on　his　head　as　she　granted　him　her　blessing。
　　Then　she　had　given　him　his　arrows；　crimson　dyed；　fletched　with　crimson　owl　feathers；　and　he'd　concealed　them　in　a　covered　quiver　and　had　himself　taken　by　boat　to　land。　He　bought　a　good　horse　with　money　she　had　given　him　and　rode；　travelling　swiftly　by　day　and　night；　until　he　came　to　the　valley　of　which　she　had　told　him。　Arriving　at　twilight；　before　either　of　the　armies　had　e；　he　saw　the　tree　she　had　so　clearly　described　to　him；　and　he　climbed　it　in　the　darkness　and　settled　in　to　wait。
　　The　soldiers　had　e　the　next　day。　Battle　began　that　afternoon。　Late　in　the　day；　when　En　Urté　de　Miraval　had　brought　his　corans　sweeping　down　the　ridge　from　the　west；　the　king　of　Gorhaut　had　battled　Duke　Urté　and　had　swept　off　his　dented　helmet　and　hurled　it　away　after　taking　a　blow　in　that　bat。
　　It　was　exactly　as　he　had　been　told　it　might　be。　He　offered　his　heart's　most　fervent　prayer；　speaking　the　words　aloud；　though　softly；　and　he　lifted　his　bow　from　where　he　sat　among　the　branches　of　that　tree　above　the　valley；　and　he　sent　a　crimson　arrow　almost　straight　up　into　the　bright　sky　along　the　high　pathway　of　Rian；　the　soaring　arch　he　had　mastered　through　those　solitary　weeks　and　months　on　the　island。
　　He　was　not　greatly　surprised；　only　humbled　and　full　of　gratitude；　beyond　any　words　he　could　ever　have　enpassed；　when　he　saw　that　arrow　strike　the　king　of　Gorhaut　in　the　eye　and　end　his　life。
　　After　that　it　had　been　a　matter　of