ggk.asongforarbonne-第26节

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n'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　outside　waiting　for　the　ritual　ninth　to　enter；　thus　making　it　safe　for　them　to　follow。　Friendly；　simple…minded　Lisseut；　nodding　happily　on　her　way　to　a　ducking　only　the　ignorant　were　supposed　to　receive。
　　And　now　Remy；　looking　quite　unfairly　magnificent；　bright　hair　in　ringlets　on　his　forehead；　damp　with　perspiration；　blue　eyes　positively　glittering　with　hilarity；　was　swiftly　approaching；　followed　by　Aurelian　and　Jourdain　and　Dumars　and　even…oh　the　perfidy　of　it　all！…the　laughing　figure　of　Alain；　her　erstwhile　partner；　along　with　fully　half　a　dozen　others；　including　Elisse　of　Cauvas；　who　was　enjoying　this　unexpected　development　quite　as　much　as　she　might　be　expected　to。　Lisseut　registered　Elisse's　mocking　smile　and　furiously　cursed　her　own　stupidity　again。　She　looked　around　frantically　for　an　ally；　spotted　Marotte　behind　the　bar　and　pitched　a　plea　for　help　at　the　top　of　her　highly　regarded　voice。
　　Grinning　from　ear　to　ear；　her　surrogate　father　shook　his　head。　No　help　there。　Not　at　Midsummer　in　Tavernel。　Quickly；　Lisseut　turned　back　to　Remy；　smiling　in　her　most　endearingly　winsome　fashion。
　　〃Hello；　my　dear；〃　she　began　sweetly。　〃And　how　have　you　been　this…〃
　　She　got　no　further　than　that。　Moving　as　gracefully　as　ever；　Remy　of　Orreze；　her　former　lover…every　woman's　former　lover；　someone　had　once　said；　though　not　bitterly…slipped　neatly　under　her　instinctive；　warding　gesture；　put　a　shoulder　to　her　midriff　and　had　her　hoisted　in　the　air　before　Lisseut　could　even　try　to　phrase　some　remotely　plausible　reason　why　she　should　be　exonerated　from　the　water…ducking。　A　dozen　pairs　of　hands；　both　before　and　behind；　hastened　to　assist　him　in　bearing　her　aloft　like　some　sacrifice　of　the　Ancients　towards　the　ducking　basin　by　the　bar。　Every　year！　Lisseut　was　thinking；　grasped　too　tightly　to　even　struggle。　We　do　this　every　cursed　year！　Where　was　my　brain　just　now？
　　In　the　chaos　around　her　she　noticed　that　Aurelian　had　already　turned　back　to　the　door　to　resume　his　counting。　Remy　had　her　around　the　waist　from　below　and　was　tickling　now；　which　was　inexcusable；　given　what　he　ought　to　have　remembered　about　her。　Cursing；　giggling　helplessly；　Lisseut　felt　her　flailing　elbow　crack　into　something　and　was　unconscionably　pleased　a　second　later　to　note　that　it　was　Elisse　who　staggered　back；　swearing　like　a　soldier　herself　and　holding　a　hand　to　the　side　of　her　head。　Holy　Rian　must　have　guided　her　elbow；　there　was　no　one　else　in　the　room　she　would　actually　have　wanted　to　hit！　Well；　with　the　exception　of　Remy；　perhaps。　She　frequently　wanted　to　hit　Remy　of　Orreze。　Many　of　them　did；　when　they　weren't　listening　intently　to　some　favoured　joglar　singing　his　newest　song。
　　Lisseut　saw　the　basin　loom　beneath　her。　She　felt　herself　being　swung　pletely　upside…down。　Her　feathered　hat；　which　was　also　new；　and　expensive；　flew　from　her　head　undoubtedly　to　be　crushed　underfoot　amid　the　densely　packed；　raucously　shouting　crowd。　Through　the　arc　of　a　swiftly　inverting　world　she　glimpsed　her　dripping…wet　Arimondan　predecessor　being　unceremoniously　bundled　aside。　Dragging　a　quick　breath　of　tavern　air　into　her　lungs；　still　cursing　herself　for　a　dewy…eyed　fool；　Lisseut　closed　her　eyes　tightly　as　they　swung　her　down　into　the　water。
　　It　wasn't　water。
　　〃Marotte！〃　she　cried；　spluttering　and　gasping　when　they　finally　lifted　her　out。　〃Marotte；　do　you　know　what　he's　done！　This　isn't…〃
　　〃Down！〃　Remy　manded；　cackling　uproariously。　Lisseut　frantically　sucked　air　again　just　before　she　was　once　more　submerged。
　　They　held　her　under　for　a　long　time。　When　she　finally　surfaced；　it　took　all　her　strength　to　twist　her　neck　towards　the　bar　and　croak；　〃It's　wine；　Marotte！　Cauvas　sparkling！　He's　using…〃
　　〃Down！〃　Remy　shrieked　again；　but　not　before　Lisseut　heard　a　howl　of　outrage　from　Marotte。
　　〃What？　Cauvas？　Remy；　I'll　flay　you　alive！　Are　you　dunking　people　in　my　best…？〃
　　Pushed　back　under；　her　ears　stopped；　Lisseut　heard　no　more；　but　a　small；　inner　glint　of　satisfaction　made　the　last　ducking　easier　to　endure。　She　even　took　a　quick　swig　of　the　wine　b