ggk.asongforarbonne-第2节

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o；　one　day…and　night…not　far　off。
　　Some　women　were　lucky　in　their　men；　and　some　found　an　early　widowhood…which　might　actually　mean　power　here　in　Arbonne；　though　not；　by　any　means；　everywhere　in　the　world。　There　were　other　paths　as　well：　those　of　the　goddess　or　the　god。　Her　sister　Beatritz；　the　eldest　child；　had　been　given　to　Rian；　she　was　a　priestess　in　a　sanctuary　in　the　eastern　mountains　near　Gfitzland。　She　would　be　High　Priestess　there　one　day…her　parentage　assured　at　least　so　much…and　wield　her　own　measure　of　power　in　the　intricate　councils　of　Rian's　clergy。　In　many　ways；　Aelis　thought；　it　was　an　enviable　future；　however　remote　it　might　be　from　the　laughter　and　the　music　of　the　courts。
　　On　the　other　hand；　how　close　was　she　herself　to　such　music　and　such　laughter　in　Miraval；　with　the　candles　and　torches　doused　just　after　dusk　and　Duke　Urté　ing　to　her　in　the　night　through　the　unlatched　door　that　linked　their　rooms…smelling　of　dogs　and　moulting　falcons　and　sour　wine；　in　search　of　temporary　release　and　an　heir；　nothing　more？
　　Different　women　dealt　with　their　destinies　in　very　different　ways；　thought　dark…haired；　dark…eyed　Aelis；　the　lady　of　Miraval；　as　she　rode　under　green…gold　leaves　beside　the　rippling　waters　of　Lake　Dierne　with　vineyards　on　her　left　and　forests　beyond。
　　She　knew　exactly　who　and　what　she　was；　what　her　lineage　meant　to　the　ferociously　ambitious　man　she'd　been　given　to　like　a　prize　in　the　tournament　at　the　Lussan　Fair：　Urté；　who　seemed　so　much　more　a　lord　of　Gorhaut　in　the　cold；　grim　north　than　of　sun…blessed　Arbonne；　however　full　and　ripe　the　grapes　and　olives　might　grow　on　his　rich　lands。　Aelis　knew　precisely　what　she　was　for　him；　it　didn't　need　a　scholar　from　the　university　in　Tavernel　to　do　that　sum。
　　There　was　a　sudden　sound；　an　involuntary　gasp　of　wonder　beside　her。　Aelis　stirred　from　reverie　and　glanced　quickly　over　and　then　beyond　Ariane　to　see　what　had　startled　the　girl。　What　she　saw　stirred　her　own　pulse。　Just　ahead　of　them；　off　the　road　beside　the　lake；　the　Arch　of　the　Ancients　stood　at　the　end　of　a　double　row　of　elm　trees；　its　stones　honey…coloured　in　the　morning　sunlight。　Ariane　hadn't　taken　this　ride　before；　Aelis　realized；　she　would　never　have　seen　the　arch。
　　There　were　ruins　of　the　Ancients　all　over　the　fertile　land　named　for　the　Arbonne　River　that　watered　it：　columns　by　the　roadside；　temples　on　cliffs　by　the　sea　or　in　the　mountain　passes；　foundations　of　houses　in　the　cities；　bridge　stones　tumbled　into　the　mountain　streams　and　some　still　standing；　some　still　in　use。　Many　of　the　roads　they　rode　or　walked　today　had　been　built　by　the　Ancients　long　ago。　The　great　high　road　beside　the　Arbonne　itself；　from　the　sea　at　Tavernel　north　to　Barbentain　and　Lussan　and　beyond　them　into　and　through　the　mountains　to　Gorhaut；　was　one　of　the　old　straight　roads。　All　along　its　length　were　marker　stones；　some　standing；　many　toppled　into　the　roadside　grass；　with　words　upon　them　in　a　language　no　one　living　knew；　not　even　the　scholars　of　the　university。
　　The　Ancients　were　everywhere　in　Arbonne；　the　simple　sight　of　one　of　their　ruins　or　artifacts；　however　unexpected；　would　not　have　drawn　a　cry　from　Ariane。
　　But　the　arch　by　Lake　Dierne　was　something　else　again。
　　Rising　ten　times　the　height　of　a　man；　and　almost　as　broad；　it　stood　alone　in　the　countryside　at　the　end　of　its　avenue　of　elms；　seeming　to　master　and　subdue　the　gentle；　vine…clad　landscape　between　the　forests　and　the　lake；　which；　Aelis　had　long　suspected；　was　precisely　the　purpose　for　which　it　had　been　raised。　The　friezes　sculpted　on　both　the　near　face　and　the　far　were　of　war　and　conquest：　armoured　men　in　chariots　carrying　round　shields　and　heavy　swords；　battling　others　armed　with　only　clubs　and　spears。　And　the　warriors　with　the　clubs　were　dying　on　the　friezes；　their　pain　made　vivid　in　the　sculptor's　art。　On　the　sides　of　the　arch　were　images　of　men　and　women　clad　in　animal　skins；　manacled；　their　heads　bowed　and　averted　in　defeat；　slaves。　Whoever　they　were；　wherever　they　now　had　gone；　the　Ancients　who　had　set　their　marks　upon　this　land　had　not　e　in　peace。
　　〃Would　you　like　to　see　it　more　nearly？〃　she　asked　Ariane　mildly。　The　girl　nodded；　never　taking　her　eyes　from　the　arch。　Aelis　lifted　her　voice；　calling　ahead　to　Riquier；　the　leader　of　the　corans　detailed　to　ride　with　her。　He　dropped　hastily　back　to　her　side。
　　〃My　lady？〃
　　She　smiled　up　at　him。　Balding　and　humourless；　Riquier　was　much　the　best　of　the　household　corans；　and　she　was；　in　any　case；　prepared　to　smile　at　almost　anyone　this　morning。　There　was　a　song　winding　through　her　heart；　a　song　written　this　winter；　after　the　festive　season；　in　response　to　a　promise　a　lady　had　made。　Every　joglar　in　Arbonne　had　been　singing　that　song。　No　one　knew　the　troubadour　who　had　written　it；　no　one　knew　the　lady。
　　〃If　you　think　it　safe；〃　she　said；　〃I　should　like　to　stop　for　a　few　moments　that　my　cousin　might　see　the　arch　more　closely。　Do　you　think　we　could　do　that？〃
　　Riquier　looked　cautiously　around　at　the　serene；　sunlit　countryside。　His　expression　was　earnest；　it　was　always　earnest　when　he　spoke　with　her。　She　had　never　once　been　able　to　make　him　laugh。　Not　any　of　them；　actually；　the　corans　of　Miraval　were　men　cut　from　her　husband's　cloth；　not　surprisingly。
　　〃I　think　that　would　be　all　right；〃　he　said。
　　〃Thank　you；〃　Aelis　murmured。　〃I　am　happy　to　be　in　your　hands；　En　Riquier；　in　this　as　in　all　things。〃　A　younger；　better…educated　man　would　have　returned　her　smile；　and　a　witty　one　would　have　known　how　to　reply　to　the　shameless　flattery　of　the　honorific　she　had　granted　him。　Riquier　merely　flushed；　nodded　once　and　dropped　back　to　give　his　orders　to　the　rear　guard。　Aelis　often　wondered　what　he　thought　of　her；　at　other　times　she　wasn't　really　sure　she　wanted　to　know。
　　〃The　only　things　that　belong　in　that　one's　hand　are　a　sword　or　a　flask　of　unmixed　wine；〃　Ariane　said　tartly　and　not　quite　softly　enough　at　Aelis's　side。　〃And　if　he　deserves　a　lord's　title；　so　does　the　man　who　saddled　my　horse。〃　Her　expression　was　scornful。
　　Aelis　had　to　suppress　a　smile。　For　the　second　time　that　morning　she　had　cause　to　wonder　about　her　young　cousin。　The　girl　was　disconcertingly　quick。　Despite　the　fact　that　Ariane's　words　reflected　her　own　thoughts　exactly；　Aelis　tendered　her　a　reproving　glance。　She　had　duties　here…the　duties　of　a　duchess　towards　the　girl…woman　who　had　been　sent　to　her　as　a　lady…in…waiting　for　fostering　and　to　learn　the　manners　proper　to　a　court。　Which　was　not；　Aelis　thought；　going　to　happen　in　Miraval。　She　had　considered　writing　her　aunt　at　Malmont　and　saying　as　much；　but　had　so　far　refrained；　for　selfish　reasons　as　much　as　any　others：　Ariane's　brightness；　since　she　had　arrived　last　fall；　had　been　a　source　of　genuine　pleasure；　one　of　the　very　few　Aelis　had。　Not　counting　certain　songs。　Even　the　birds　above　the　lake　are　singing　of　my　love　。。。　
　　〃Not　all　men　are　made　for　gallantry　or　the　forms　of　courtliness；〃　she　said　to　her　cousin；　keeping　her　voice　low。　〃Riquier　is　loyal　and　petent；　and　the　remark　about　the　wine　is　uncalled　for…you've　seen　him　in　the　hall　yourself。〃
　　〃Indeed　I　have；〃　Ariane　said　ambiguously。　Aelis　raised　her　eyebrows；　but　had　neither　time　or　inclination　to　pursue　the　matter。
　　Riquier　cantered　his　horse　past　them　again　and　swung　off　the　path；　angling　through　the　roadside　grass　and　then　between　the　flanking　trees　towards　the　arch。　The　two　woman　followed；　with　corans　on　either　side　and　behind。
　　They　never　reached　it。
　　There　was　a　crackling　sound；　a　surge　and　rustle　of　leaves。　Six　men　plummeted　from　branches　overhead　and　all　six　of　Urté's　corans　were　pulled　from　their　horses　to　tumble　on　the　ground。　Other　men　sprang　instantly　from　hiding　in　the　tall　grass　and　raced　over　to　help　in　the　attack。　Ariane　screamed。　Aelis　reared　her　horse　and　a　masked　assailant　rushing　towards　her　scrambled　hastily　back。　She　saw　two　other　men　emerge　from　the　trees　to　stand　in　front　of　them　all；　not　joining　in　the　fight。　They　too　were　masked；　they　were　all　masked。　Riquier　was　down；　she　saw；　two　men　standing　over　him。　She　wheeled　her　horse；　creating　room　for　herself；　and　grappled　at　her　saddle　for　the　small　crossbow　she　always　carried。
　　She　was　her　father's　daughter；　and　had　been　taught　by　him；　and　in　his　prime　Guibor　de　Barbentain　was　said　to　have　been　the　best　archer　in　his　own　country。　Aelis　steadied　her　horse　with　her　knees；　aimed　quickly　but　with　care　and　fired。　One　of　the　two　men　in　the　road　before　her　cried　out　and　staggered　back；　clutching　at　the　arrow　in　his　shoulder。
　　Aelis　wheeled　swiftly。　There　were　four　men　around　her　now　trying　to　seize　the　horse's　reins。　She　reared　her　stallion　again　and　it　kicked　out；　scattering　them。　She　fumbled　in　the　quiver　for　a　second　arrow。
　　〃Hold！〃　the　other　man　between　the　trees　cried　then。　〃Hold；　Lady　Aelis。　If　you　harm　another　of　my　men　we　will　begin　killing　your　corans。　Besides；　there　is　the　girl。　Put　down　your　bow。〃
　　Her　mouth　dry　and　her　heart　pounding；　Aelis　looked　over　and　saw　that　Ariane's　frightened；　snorting　horse　was　firmly　in　the　grasp　of　two　of　their　attackers。　All　six　of　Urté's　corans　were　down　and　disarmed；　but　none　seemed　to　have　been　critically　injured　yet。
　　〃It　is　you　we　want；〃　the　leader　in　f