ggk.asongforarbonne-第28节

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　voice　at　the　end。
　　She　actually　felt　sorry　for　him；　and　not　because　of　the　wound；　which　didn't　appear　to　be　serious。　She　was　fully　aware　of　how　much　Remy　would　hate　knowing　she　felt　that　way。　Smiling　inwardly；　Lisseut　happily　resolved　to　make　a　point　of　telling　him　later…a　first　measure　of　retaliation　for　her　ruined　tunic　and　trampled　hat。　Remy's　art　might　demand　respect　and　admiration；　and　his　manic　humour　and　inventiveness　had　shaped　memorable　nights　for　all　of　them；　but　that　didn't　mean　there　was　no　room　for　the　taking　of　small　revenges。
　　Looking　over　towards　the　duke；　Lisseut　saw　the　bearded　Gorhaut　coran　glancing　about　the　crowded　room　of　musicians　with　an　undisguised　look　of　disdain　on　his　face。　She　was　suddenly　sorry　he'd　been　the　one　to　wound　Remy。　No　one　should　be　allowed　to　draw　a　blade　against　a　troubadour　in　this　tavern　and　then　wear　an　expression　like　that　afterwards；　particularly　not　a　stranger；　and　most　particularly　not　one　from　Gorhaut。　Until　the　sun　dies　and　the　moons　fall；　Gorhaut　and　Arbonne　shall　not　lie　easily　beside　each　other。　Her　grandfather　used　to　say　that；　and　her　father　had　continued　to　use　the　phrase；　often　after　returning　from　the　Autumn　Fair　in　Lussan　with　whatever　profit　he'd　made　from　his　olives　and　olive　oil；　trading　with　the　northerners。
　　Lisseut；　her　anger　rising；　stared　at　the　big　coran　from　the　north；　wishing　someone　in　the　room　would　say　something　to　him。　He　looked　insufferably　smug；　gazing　down　on　them　all　from　his　great　height。　Only　Aurelian　was　as　tall　a　man；　but　Aurelian　had　gone　with　Remy；　and　the　lean　musician；　for　all　his　unassuming　brilliance；　would　not　have　been　the　man　to　face　down　this　one。　With　a　quick　shrug　that　was　more　characteristic　than　she　knew；　Lisseut　stepped　forward　herself。
　　〃You　are　arrogant；〃　she　said　to　the　northerner；　〃and　have　no　business　looking　so　pleased　with　yourself。　If　your　liege　lord　will　not　tell　you　as　much；　one　of　us　will　have　to：　the　man　you　injured　may　have　been　frivolous　just　now　in　a　Carnival　mood；　but　he　is　twice　the　man　you　are；　with　or　without　an　illegal　blade；　and　he　will　be　remembered　in　this　world　long　after　you　are　dust　and　forgotten。〃
　　The　mercenary…Blaise；　the　duke　had　called　him…blinked　in　surprise。　Up　close　he　seemed　younger　than　she'd　first　guessed；　and　there　was　actually　a　slightly　different　look　in　his　eyes　than　Lisseut　had　thought　she'd　seen　from　by　the　bar。　She　wasn't　certain　what　name　to　put　to　it；　but　it　wasn't　precisely　haughtiness。　Bertran　de　Talair　was　grinning；　and　so；　unexpectedly；　was　Valery。　Lisseut；　registering　their　glances；　was　abruptly　reminded　that　she　was　dripping　wet　from　tangled　hair　to　waist；　and　her　new　blouse　was　probably　a　dreadful　sight　and　clinging　to　her　much　more　closely　than　it　should；　in　all　decency。　She　felt　herself　flushing；　and　hoped　it　would　be　seen　as　anger。
　　〃And　there　you　have　it；　Blaise；〃　the　duke　was　saying。　〃Dust　and　forgotten。　And　more　proof　for　you…if　ever　you　needed　it…of　how　terrible　our　women　are；　especially　after　they've　been　held　upside…down。　What　would　happen　to　this　one　back　in　Gorhaut？　Do　tell　us。〃
　　For　a　long　time　the　bearded　coran　was　silent；　looking　down　at　Lisseut。　His　eyes　were　a　curious　hazel　colour；　nearly　green　in　the　lamplight。　Almost　reluctantly；　but　quite　clearly；　he　said；　〃For　speaking　so　to　an　anointed　coran　of　the　god　in　a　public　place　she　would　be　stripped　to　the　waist　and　whipped　on　her　belly　and　back　by　officers　of　the　king。　After；　if　she　survived；　the　man　so　insulted　would　be　entitled　to　do　whatever　he　wanted　with　her。　Her　husband；　if　she　had　one；　would　be　free　to　divorce　her　with　no　consequences　at　law　or　in　the　eyes　of　the　clergy　of　Corannos。〃
　　The　silence　that　followed　was　frigid。　There　was　something　deathly　in　it；　like　ice　in　the　far　north；　infinitely　removed　from　the　mood　of　Carnival。　Until　the　sun　dies　and　the　moons　fall　。。。　
　　Lisseut　suddenly　felt　faint；　her　knees　trembled；　but　she　forced　her　eyes　to　hold　those　of　the　northerner。　〃What；　then；　are　you　doing　here？〃　she　said　hardily；　using　the　voice　control　she'd　so　arduously　mastered　in　her　apprenticeship　with　her　uncle。　〃Why　don't　you　go　back　where　you　can　do　that　sort　of　thing　to　women　who　speak　their　mind　or　defend　their　friends？　Where　you　could　do　whatever　you　wanted　with　me　and　no　one　would　gainsay　you？〃
　　〃Yes；　Blaise；〃　Bertran　de　Talair　added；　still　inexplicably　cheerful。　〃Why　don't　you　go　back？〃
　　A　moment　later；　the　big　man　surprised　Lisseut。　His　mouth　quirked　sideways　in　a　wry　smile。　He　shook　his　head。　〃I　was　asked　by　the　man　who　pays　my　wages　what　would　be　done　to　you　in　Gorhaut；〃　he　answered　mildly　enough；　looking　straight　at　Lisseut；　not　at　the　duke。　〃I　think　En　Bertran　was　amusing　himself：　he　has　travelled　enough　to　know　exactly　what　the　laws　on　such　matters　are　in　Gorhaut；　and　in　Valensa　and　Gotzland；　for　that　matter…for　they　are　much　the　same。　Did　I　say；　incidentally；　that　I　agreed　with　those　laws？〃　
　　〃Do　you　agree　with　them？〃　Lisseut　pursued；　aware　that　this　room；　among　all　her　friends；　was　probably　the　only　place　on　earth　where　she　would　have　been　quite　so　aggressive。
　　The　man　called　Blaise　pursed　his　lips　reflectively　before　answering；　Lisseut　was　belatedly　realizing　that　this　was　no　thick…witted　northern　lout。
　　〃The　duke　of　Talair　just　now　humiliated　a　troubadour　you　say　will　be　famous　long　after　I　am　forgotten。　He　as　much　as　called　him　an　uneducated；　drunken　schoolboy。　At　a　guess；　that　will　have　hurt　rather　more　than　the　scratch　from　my　blade。　Will　you　agree　that　there　are　times　when　authority　must　be　asserted？　Or；　if　not；　are　you　brave　enough　to　turn　that　fire　of　yours　against　the　duke　right　now？　I'm　the　easy　target；　an　outsider　in　a　room　full　of　people　you　know。　Would　that　be　a　part　of　why　you　are　pushing　me　like　this？　Would　it　be　a　fair　thing　to　be　doing？〃
　　He　was　unexpectedly　clever；　but　he　hadn't　answered　her　question。
　　〃You　haven't　answered　her　question；〃　said　Bertran　de　Talair。
　　Blaise　of　Gorhaut　smiled　again；　the　same　wry；　sideways　expression　as　before；　Lisseut　had　a　sense　that　he'd　almost　been　expecting　that　from　the　duke。　She　wondered　how　long　they'd　known　each　other。　〃I'm　here；　aren't　I？〃　he　said　quietly。　〃If　I　agreed　with　those　laws　I'd　be　home　right　now；　wouldn't　I；　very　likely　wed　to　a　properly　disciplined　woman；　and　very　likely　plotting　an　invasion　of　Arbonne　with　the　king　and　all　the　corans　of　Gorhaut。〃　He　raised　his　voice　at　the　end；　quite　deliberately。　Lisseut；　out　of　the　corner　of　her　eye；　saw　the　Portezzans　at　their　booth　by　the　near　wall　exchange　quick　glances　with　each　other。
　　〃All　right；　Blaise；〃　Bertran　said　sharply；　〃you　have　made　your　point。　That　is　rather　enough；　I　think。〃
　　Blaise　turned　to　him。　Lisseut　realized　that　his　eyes　had　not　left　hers　from　the　time　she'd　approached；　though　his　last　point；　whatever　it　actually　was；　had　clearly　been　meant　for　the　duke。　〃I　think　so　too；〃　the　big　coran　said　softly。　〃I　think　it　is　more　than　enough。〃
　　〃Enough　of　what？〃　came　an　assured　voice　from　the　doorway。　〃Is　something　over　too　soon？　Have　I　missed　an　entertainment？　〃
　　When　Bertran　de　Talair　grew　pale；　Blaise　knew；　the　scar　on　his　cheek　became　extremely　prominent。　He　had　seen　it　happen　before；　but　not　like　this。　The　duke　had　gone　rigid　with　anger　or　shock　but　he　did　not　turn　around。　Valery　did；　very　swiftly；　moving　so　that　his　body　was　between　Bertran's　and　the　door。
　　〃What　are　you　doing　here？〃　said　de　Talair；　his　back　to　the　person　addressed。　His　voice　was　cold　as　winter　moonlight。　Blaise　registered　that　fact　and　moved；　belatedly；　to　stand　beside　Valery。　Even　as　he　did；　the　crowd　of　men　and　women　between　them　and　the　door　was　shifting　awkwardly　out　of　the　way　to　reveal；　as　a　parting　curtain　before　a　stage；　the　man　standing　in　the　entrance　to　the　tavern。
　　He　was　huge；　Blaise　saw；　robed　in　extravagantly　expensive　dark　green　satin　trimmed　with　white　fur；　even　in　summer。　Easily　sixty　years　old；　his　grey　hair　cropped　close　like　a　soldier's；　he　stood　lightly　balanced；　for　all　his　size；　and　his　posture　was　straight…backed　and　arrogant。
　　〃What　am　I　doing　here？〃　he　echoed　mockingly。　The　voice　was　memorable；　deep　and　resonant。　〃Isn't　this　where　the　singers　are？　Is　this　not　Carnival？　Cannot　a　man　seek　the　solace　and　pleasure　of　music　at　such　a　time？〃
　　〃You　hate　musicians；〃　Bertran　de　Talair　said　harshly；　biting　off　his　words。　He　still　had　not　turned。　〃You　kill　singers；　remember？〃
　　〃Only　the　impertinent　ones；〃　the　other　man　said　indifferently。　〃Only　those　who　forget　where　they　are　and　sing　what　they　should　not。　And　that　was　a　long　time　ago；　after　all。　Men　can　change；　surely；　as　we　move　towards　our　waiting　graves。　Age　can　mellow　us。〃　There　was　nothing　mellow　about　that　tone；　though。　What　Blaise　heard　was　mockery；　savage；　acid…dipped。
　　And　suddenly　he　knew　who　this　had　to　be。
　　His　eyes　flicked　to　either　side　of　the　speaker；　taking　the　measure　of　the　three　green…garbed　corans　flanking　him。　All　wore　swords；　regardless　of　whatever　laws　Tavernel　might　have；　and　all　three　looked　as　if　they　knew　how　to　use　them。
　　He　had　a　flashing　memory　of　a　path　by　Lake　Dierne；　six　dead　men　in　the　spring　grass。　The　crowd　had　fallen　well　back；　leaving　a　cleared　space　around　the　two　parties　by　the　door。　Blaise　wa