ggk.asongforarbonne-第4节

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n。　The　words　and　the　voice　were　balm　and　music　to　her　parched　soul。
　　She　took　the　wine。　Their　fingers　touched　as　she　did。　He　made　no　other　movement　towards　her　though。　She　sipped　and　he　did　the　same；　not　speaking。　It　was　Talair　wine；　of　course；　from　his　family's　vineyards　on　the　eastern　shores　of　the　lake。
　　She　smiled　finally；　releasing　him　from　interrogation　for　the　moment。　She　sank　down　onto　the　one　bench　the　cottage　offered。　He　took　a　small　wooden　stool；　leaning　forward　towards　her；　his　long；　musician's　fingers　holding　the　goblet　in　two　hands。　There　was　a　bed　by　the　far　wall；　she　had　been　acutely　aware　of　that　from　the　moment　she'd　walked　in；　and　equally　aware　that　the　charcoal…burner　was　unlikely　to　have　had　a　proper　bed　for　himself　in　this　cottage。
　　Urté　de　Miraval　would　be　a　long　way　west　by　now　in　his　favourite　woods；　lathering　his　horses　and　dogs　in　pursuit　of　a　boar　or　a　stag。　The　sunlight　fell　slantwise　through　the　eastern　window；　laying　a　benison　of　light　across　the　bed。　She　saw　Bertran's　glance　follow　hers　in　that　direction。　She　saw　him　look　away。
　　And　realized　in　that　instant；　with　a　surge　of　unexpected　discovery；　that　he　was　not　nearly　so　assured　as　he　seemed。　That　it　might　actually　be　true　what　he'd　just　said；　what　was　so　often　spun　in　the　troubadours'　songs：　that　hers；　as　the　highborn　woman；　the　long…desired；　was　the　true　mastery　in　this　room。　Even　the　birds　above　the　lake　。。。　
　　〃What　will　they　do　with　Ariane　and　the　corans？〃　she　asked；　aware　that　unmixed　wine　and　excitement　were　doing　dangerous　things　to　her。　His　hair　was　tousled　from　the　confining　mask　and　his　smooth…shaven　face　looked　clever　and　young　and　a　little　bit　reckless。　Whatever　the　rules　of　the　courtly　game；　this　would　not　be　a　man　easily　or　always　controlled。　She　had　known　that　from　the　first。
　　As　if　to　bear　witness　to　that；　he　arched　his　brows；　posed　and　poised　again。　〃They　will　be　continuing　on　their　way　to　Talair　soon　enough。　My　men　will　have　removed　their　masks　by　now　and　declared　themselves。　We　brought　wine　and　food　for　a　meal　on　the　grass。　Ramir　was　there；　did　you　recognize　him？　He　has　his　harp；　and　I　wrote　a　ballad　last　week　about　a　play…acting　escapade　by　the　arch。　My　parents　will　disapprove；　and　your　husband　I　rather　imagine；　but　no　one　has　been　hurt；　except　Valery　by　you；　and　no　one　will　really　be　able　to　imagine　or　suggest　I　would　do　you　any　harm　or　dishonour。　We　will　give　Arbonne　a　story　to　be　shocked　about　for　a　month　or　so；　no　more　than　that。　This　was　fairly　carefully　thought　out；〃　he　said。　She　could　hear　the　note　of　pride。
　　〃Evidently；〃　she　murmured。　A　month　or　so；　no　more　than　that？　Not　so　swiftly；　my　lord。　She　was　trying　to　guess　how　her　mother　would　have　handled　this。　〃How　did　you　arrange　for　Brette　in　Miraval　to　help　you？〃　she　temporized。
　　He　smiled。　〃Brette　de　Vaux　and　I　were　fostered　together。　We　have　had　various　。。。　adventures　with　each　other。　I　thought　he　could　be　trusted　to　help　me　with　。。。　〃
　　〃With　another　adventure；　my　lord？〃　She　had　her　opening　now。　She　stood。　It　seemed　she　didn't　need　to　think　of　her　mother　after　all。　She　knew　exactly　what　to　do。　What　she　had　dreamt　of　doing　through　the　long　nights　of　the　winter　just　past。　〃With　the　easy　matter　of　another　tavern　song？〃
　　He　rose　as　well；　awkwardly；　spilling　some　of　his　wine。　He　laid　the　goblet　down　on　the　table；　and　she　could　see　that　his　hand　was　trembling。
　　〃Aelis；〃　he　said；　his　voice　low　and　fierce；　〃what　I　wrote　last　winter　was　true。　You　need　never　undervalue　yourself。　Not　with　me；　not　with　anyone　alive。　This　is　no　adventure；　I　am　afraid　。。。　〃　He　hesitated　and　then　went　on；　〃I　am　greatly　afraid　that　this　is　the　consummation　of　my　heart's　desire。〃
　　〃What　is？〃　she　said　then；　forcing　herself　to　remain　calm　despite　what　his　words　were　doing　to　her。　〃Having　a　cup　of　wine　with　me？　How　delicate。　How　modest　a　desire　for　your　heart。〃
　　He　blinked　in　astonishment；　but　then　the　quality　of　his　gaze　changed；　kindled；　and　his　expression　made　her　knees　suddenly　weak。　She　tried　not　to　let　that　show　either。　He　had　been　quick　to　follow　her　meaning　though；　too　quick。　She　suddenly　felt　less　sure　of　herself。　She　wished　she　had　somewhere　to　set　down　her　own　wine。　Instead；　she　drained　it　and　let　the　empty　goblet　drop　among　the　strewn　rushes　on　the　floor。　She　was　unused　to　unmixed　wine；　to　standing　in　a　place　so　entirely　alone　with　a　man　such　as　this。
　　Drawing　a　breath　against　the　racing　of　her　heart；　Aelis　said；　〃We　are　not　children；　nor　lesser　people　of　this　land；　and　I　can　drink　a　cup　of　wine　with　a　great　many　different　men。〃　She　forced　herself　to　hold　his　eyes　with　her　own　dark　gaze。　She　swallowed；　and　said　clearly；　〃We　are　going　to　make　a　child　today；　you　and　I。〃
　　And　watched　Bertran　de　Talair　as　all　colour　fled　from　his　face。　He　is　afraid　now；　she　thought。　Of　her；　of　what　she　was；　of　the　swiftness　and　the　unknown　depths　of　this。
　　〃Aelis；〃　he　began；　visibly　struggling　for　self…possession；　〃any　child　you　bear；　as　duchess　of　Miraval；　and　as　your　father's　daughter…〃
　　He　stopped　there。　He　stopped　because　she　had　reached　up　even　as　he　began　to　speak　and　was　now；　with　careful；　deliberate　motions；　unbinding　her　hair。
　　Bertran　fell　silent；　desire　and　wonder　and　the　sharp　awareness　of　implications　all　written　in　his　face。　It　was　that　last　she　had　to　smooth　away。　He　was　too　clever　a　man；　for　all　his　youth；　he　might　hold　back　even　now；　weighing　consequences。　She　pulled　the　last　long　ivory　pin　free　and　shook　her　head　to　let　the　cascade　of　her　hair　tumble　down　her　back。　The　sheerest　encitement　to　desire。　So　all　the　poets　sang。
　　The　poet　before　her；　of　a　lineage　nearly　as　proud　as　her　own；　said；　with　a　certain　desperation　now；　〃A　child。　Are　you　certain？　How　do　you　know　that　today；　now；　that　we　。。。〃
　　Aelis　de　Miraval；　daughter　of　the　count　of　Arbonne；　smiled　then；　the　ancient　smile　of　the　goddess；　of　women　centred　in　their　own　mysteries。　She　said；　〃En　Bertran；　I　spent　two　years　on　Rian's　Island　in　the　sea。　We　may　have　only　a　little　magic　there；　but　if　it　lies　not　in　such　matters　as　this；　where　should　it　possibly　lie？〃
　　And　then　knowing…without　even　having　to　think　of　what　her　mother　would　have　done…knowing　as　surely　as　she　knew　the　many…faceted　shape　of　her　own　need；　that　it　was　time　for　words　to　cease；　Aelis　brought　her　fingers　up　to　the　silken　ties　at　the　throat　of　her　green　gown　and　tugged　at　them　so　that　the　silk　fell　away　to　her　hips。　She　lowered　her　arms　and　stood　before　him；　waiting；　trying　to　control　her　breathing；　though　that　was　suddenly　difficult。
　　There　was　hunger；　a　kind　of　awe　and　a　fully　kindled　desire　in　his　eyes。　They　devoured　what　she　offered　to　his　sight。　He　still　did　not　move；　though。　Even　now；　with　wine　and　desire　racing　through　her　blood；　she　understood：　just　as　she　was　no　tavern　girl；　he　in　turn　was　no　drunken　coran　in　a　furtive　corner　of　some　baron's　midnight　hall。　He　too　was　proud；　and　intimately　versed　in　power；　and　it　seemed　he　still　had　too　keen　a　sense　of　how　far　the　reverberations　of　this　moment　might　go。
　　〃Why　do　you　hate　him　so　much？〃　Bertran　de　Talair　asked　softly；　his　eyes　never　leaving　her　pale；　smooth　skin；　the　curve　of　her　breasts。　〃Why　do　you　hate　your　husband　so？〃
　　She　knew　the　answer　to　that。　Knew　it　like　a　charm　or　spell　of　Rian's　priestesses　chanted　over　and　over　in　the　starry；　sea…swept　darkness　of　the　island　nights。
　　〃Because　he　doesn't　love　me；〃　Aelis　said。
　　And　held　her　hands　out　then；　a　curiously　fragile　gesture；　as　she　stood；　half…naked　before　him；　her　father's　daughter；　her　husband's　avenue　to　power；　heiress　to　Arbonne；　but　trying　to　shape　her　own　response　today；　now；　in　this　room；　to　the　coldness　of　destiny。
　　He　took　a　step；　the　one　step　necessary；　and　gathered　her　in　his　arms；　and　lifted　her；　and　then　he　carried　her　to　the　bed　that　was　not　the　charcoal…burner's；　and　laid　her　down　where　the　slanting　beam　of　sunlight　fell；　warm　and　bright　and　transitory。
　　
　　PART　I…SPRING
　　CHAPTER　1
　　There　was　very　little　wind；　which　was　a　blessing。　Pale　moonlight　fell　upon　the　gently　swelling　sea　around　the　skiff。　They　had　chosen　a　moonlit　night。　Despite　the　risks；　they　would　need　to　see　where　they　were　going　when　they　came　to　land。　Eight　oars；　rising　and　falling　in　as　much　silence　as　the　rowers　could　mand；　propelled　them　out　across　the　line　of　the　advancing　waves　towards　the　faint　lights　of　the　island；　which　was　nearer　now　and　so　more　dangerous。
　　Blaise　had　wanted　six　men　only；　knowing　from　experience　that　missions　such　as　this　were　best　done　relying　on　stealth　and　speed　rather　than　numbers。　But　the　superstitious　Arbonnais　who　were　Mallin　de　Baude's　household　corans　had　insisted　on　eight　going　out　so　that　there　would　be；　if　all　went　well；　nine　ing　back　when　they　were　done。　Nine；　it　appeared；　was　sacred　to　Rian　here　in　Arbonne；　and　it　was　to　Rian's　Island　they　were　rowing　now。　They'd　even　had　a　lapsed　priest　of　the　goddess　go　through　a　ritual　of　consecration　for　them。　Blaise；　his　men　watching　closely；　had　reluctantly　knelt　and　permitted　the　drunken　old　man　to　lay　gnarled　hands　on　his　head；　muttering　unintelligible　words　that　were　somehow　supposed　to　favour　their　voyage。
　　It　was　ridiculous；　Blaise　thought；　pulling　hard　at　his　oar；　remembering　how　he'd　b