ggk.asongforarbonne-第43节

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main　in　Arbonne　as　an　ordinary　coran　any　more　than　Bertran　can　pretend　to　be　just　another　troubadour　drinking　and　dicing　in　The　Liensenne。〃　Her　voice　was　even　and　precise；　carrying　the　tones；　in　fact；　of　a　mander　of　men　on　a　battlefield。
　　And　what　she　said　was　true。　He　knew　it；　even　as　the　old；　sour　anger　came　back。　It　was　happening　again：　wherever　he　went　in　the　world；　alone　or　in　pany；　in　secret　or　carrying　the　bright　flourish　of　his　reputation　into　battle　or　tournament；　it　seemed　that　his　father　was　there；　with　him　or　before　him；　barring　and　bolting　doorways；　a　shadow　across　the　light。
　　Blaise　became　aware　that　his　hands　were　clenched　at　his　sides。　Deliberately　he　forced　them　to　relax。　He　took　a　deep　breath　and　turned　to　the　duke。
　　〃I　honour　my　contracts；〃　he　said。　〃I　believe　you　know　that。〃
　　Bertran　gave　his　small　shrug。　〃Of　course　I　do；　but　that　hardly　matters　any　more。　Men；　even　kings　and　clerics　of　the　god；　do　not　spend　two　hundred　and　fifty　thousand　to　dispose　of　a　singer　whose　song　they　feel　has　embarrassed　them。　The　game　had　changed；　Blaise；　it　is　larger　than　you　and　I　and　our　private　dealings。　You　are　a　player　of　significance　now；　whether　you　want　to　be　or　not。〃
　　Stubbornly；　Blaise　shook　his　head。　〃I　am　a　coran　for　hire。　Pay　me　enough　and　I　will　serve　you　in　war　or　peace。　Turn　me　off　and　I'll　seek　other　employment。〃
　　〃Stop　mouthing　rote　words；　Blaise　de　Garsenc。　It　ill　bees　you　to　pretend　you　do　not　understand　what　is　being　said。〃　Beatritz；　tall　and　implacable；　spoke　in　a　voice　of　grim　adjudication。　〃You　are　the　son　of　the　most　important　man　in　Gorhaut。　The　king　is　a　tool　in　Galbert's　hands；　and　we　all　know　it。　Your　family；　whatever　their　inner　turmoil；　have　holdings　more　powerful　than　any　other　in　that　country；　the　more　so　since　all　the　northern　lords　have　been　dispossessed　by　the　Treaty。　Will　you　stand　before　us；　before　the　countess　of　Arbonne；　and　claim　that　the　only　difference　between　you　and　Luth　of　Baude　is　that　you　are　better　with　a　sword？　Have　you　been　running　from　your　father　all　these　years　because　you　will　not　oppose　him？〃
　　〃Not　oppose　him？〃　Blaise　echoed；　shocked　into　genuine　fury。　〃I　have　spent　my　life　opposing　him；　at　home　and　then　beyond　our　walls。　I　hate　everything　the　Treaty　represents。　I　left　Gorhaut　so　as　not　to　live　in　a　country　so　stripped　of　its　pride。　Everyone　there　knows　it。　I　have　made　my　statement。　What　else　would　you　have　me　do？　Ride　home　in　fell　wrath　and　declare　myself　the　true　king　of　Gorhaut？
　　And　stopped；　abashed　and　appalled　by　the　quality　of　the　silence　that　followed。　By　the　intent；　focused；　deeply　revealing　expressions　of　the　two　women　and　the　man　by　the　divan。　Blaise　swallowed　with　difficulty；　his　mouth　was　dry。　He　closed　his　eyes　for　a　moment；　hearing　his　own　last　words　as　a　weirdly　distorted　echo　in　the　chamber　of　his　skull。　Opening　his　eyes　again　he　turned；　slowly；　his　heart　pounding　now　as　if　he'd　been　running　a　long　distance；　and　looked　towards　the　fire；　to　where　the　countess　of　Arbonne　was　standing；　small　and　delicate；　white…haired；　still　beautiful；　one　hand　on　the　back　of　a　chair　for　support；　her　astonishing　eyes　gazing　into　his；　and　smiling；　smiling　now；　he　saw；　with　the　radiant；　indulgent　approval　of　a　mother　for　a　child　who　has　passed；　all　unexpectedly；　a　test　thought　to　be　beyond　him。
　　No　one　spoke。　In　the　rigid　stillness　of　that　room　in　Tavernel　on　Midsummer　Night；　at　the　hinge；　the　axis；　the　heart　of　the　year；　the　white　owl　suddenly　lifted　itself；　gliding　silently　on　wide　wings　to　settle　on　Blaise's　shoulder　like　a　benediction　or　a　burden　beyond　all　mon　measure。
　　
　　CHAPTER　8
　　The　crimson…clad　guard　of　Carenzu　took　Lisseut　through　the　late　night　streets　and　left　her；　with　another　flawless　bow；　at　the　doorway　of　The　Liensenne。　She　stood　there　for　a　moment；　undecided；　listening　to　the　uproar　inside；　a　confused　flurry　of　emotions　working　within　her。　As　she　hesitated；　debating　whether　she　wanted　the　conviviality　of　the　tavern　itself　or　the　relative　intimacy　of　a　chamber　upstairs；　the　noise　subsided　and　a　thin；　reedy　voice　came　drifting　through　the　window；　singing　a　plangent　hymn　to　Rian。
　　Lisseut　walked　quickly　around　the　corner；　went　down　the　laneway　in　back　of　the　tavern；　opened　the　rear　door　and　started　up　the　stairs。　She　was　truly　not　of　a　mind　just　then　to　listen　to　Evrard　of　Lussan　in　his　pious　mode。　On　the　stairway　and　then　in　the　corridor　she　passed　couples　in　ardent　clinches…most　of　the　chambers　had　been　booked　and　overbooked　long　ago…before　ing　to　the　doorway　of　a　room　that　was　always　reserved　for　this　week　and　had　been　for　years。
　　She　knocked。　It　wouldn't　be　locked；　she　knew；　but　she　had　caused　some　embarrassment　two　years　ago　by　walking　in　on　three　men　and　a　woman；　at　what　turned　out　to　be　an　extremely　inopportune　time。　Her　difficult　relations　with　Elisse　dated　from　that　moment。
　　By　way　of　reply　to　her　knocking；　a　reflective；　mellifluous　voice　could　be　heard　singing：
　　Alone　am　I　and　sorrowful　for　love　has　gone　away；
　　Gone　away　on　a　white　horse　and　left　me　here　to　mourn　。。。　
　　She　smiled　and　opened　the　door。　Aurelian；　indeed　alone；　was　sitting　on　one　of　the　two　beds；　leaning　back　against　the　wall　as　he　fingered　his　lute。　His　shirt　was　open　at　the　throat　and　he　had　taken　off　his　boots。　His　long　legs　extended　well　out　over　the　side　of　the　bed。　He　gave　her　a　grave　smile　of　wele　and；　still　singing；　indicated　with　a　motion　of　his　head　the　table　where　an　open　bottle　of　wine　stood；　a　number　of　glasses　beside　it。　There　was　a　rumpled　scattering　of　clothes　on　the　other　bed　and　Lisseut　saw　blood　on　a　shirt。　She　poured　herself　some　wine；　took　a　quick；　much…needed　drink；　and　carried　the　bottle　over　to　refill　Aurelian's　goblet　as　well。　There　was　one　small　window　in　the　room。　She　walked　to　it　and　looked　down。　It　overlooked　the　alley；　there　was　no　one　below；　but　she　could　hear　sounds　from　the　street　and　Evrard's　music　drifting　up　from　the　downstairs　room。　Aurelian　continued　his　own　quiet　singing；　another　son；　the　same　theme：
　　My　heart　is　lonely　and　brim…full　of　grief　
　　When　I　remember　the　nights　that　are　past；　
　　When　my　sweet　love　would　offer　me　
　　Delights　beyond　all　earthly　measure　。。。　
　　〃I've　never　liked　that　verse；〃　he　said；　breaking　off　abruptly；　〃but　it　isn't　much　good　trying　to　talk　to　Jourdain　about　anything　he's　written；　is　it？　I　don't　even　know　why　I　keep　singing　it。〃
　　〃The　tune；〃　said　Lisseut　absently；　still　gazing　out　the　window。　〃I've　told　you　that　before。　Jourdain's　always　better　at　the　music　than　the　words。〃
　　Aurelian　chuckled。　〃Fine。　You　be　the　one　to　tell　him　that。〃　He　paused；　behind　her　she　could　almost　feel　his　scrutiny。　〃You're　too　pensive　for　a　Carnival　night；　my　dear。　You　do　know　that　Valery　is　recovering？〃
　　〃What？〃　She　spun　around。　〃I　didn't　。。。　he's　all　right。　How？〃
　　〃The　High　Priestess　was　in　Tavernel　tonight；　don't　ask　this　ignorant　troubadour　why。　Affairs　among　the　great。　Valery　should　probably　tithe　the　goddess　from　what　he　earns　of　Bertran　for　the　rest　of　his　life。　She　was　able　to　deal　with　the　poison；　and　the　wound　itself　was　minor。　He'll　be　fine；　they　told　us　at　the　temple。　So　most　of　us　came　back　here　in　a　wonderful　mood。　Can't　you　hear？　There　are　a　great　many　people　you　know　celebrating　downstairs；　why　don't　you　go　down？〃
　　〃Why　don't　you？〃　She　and　Aurelian　knew　each　other　very　well。
　　He　reached　for　his　goblet。　〃There's　only　so　much　carousing　I　can　take　these　days；　even　at　Midsummer。　Am　I　getting　old；　Lisseut？〃
　　Lisseut　made　a　face　at　him。　〃I　don't　know；　most　venerable　sage。　Are　you？〃　Aurelian　was；　in　fact；　only　two　or　three　years　older　than　she　was；　but　he'd　always　been　the　quietest　of　them　all；　slightly　removed　from　the　wilder　elements　of　the　troubadour　life。
　　〃Where　is　Remy？〃　she　asked；　a　natural　extension　of　that　last　thought。　She　looked　at　the　second；　disordered　bed；　and　back　to　Aurelian。
　　He　arched　one　eyebrow　elaborately。　〃Silly　question。　Rather　depends　on　the　hour；　I'd　imagine。　He　had　a　few　assignations　arranged。〃
　　〃How　is　he？〃
　　〃Wounded　pride。　Nothing　more；　but　a　good　deal　of　that。　He'll　probably　drink　himself　into　a　fury　tonight。　We'd　all　best　tread　warily　for　a　few　days。〃
　　Lisseut　shook　her　head。　〃Not　I。　He　owes　me　for　a　hat　and　a　shirt。　Not　to　mention　my　own　pride。　I've　no　intention　whatever　of　being　nice　to　him。　I　plan　to　tell　him　that　he　looked　like　a　sulky　little　boy　when　En　Bertran　was　chastising　him。〃
　　Aurelian　winced。　〃The　women　of　Vezét　。。。　what　is　it；　do　you　think？　The　olive　oil？　Something　about　its　sweetness　that　makes　you　all　so　fierce；　to　pensate？〃
　　From　the　room　below；　the　insistent　voice　of　Evrard　penetrated；　still　invoking　Rian　in　the　same　tired　ways。　Feeling　suddenly　tired　herself；　Lisseut　smiled　wanly；　laid　her　glass　aside　and　sat　beside　Aurelian　on　the　bed；　leaning　against　his　shoulder。　Obligingly；　he　shifted　a　little　and　put　a　long　arm　around　her。
　　〃I　don't　feel　very　fierce；〃　she　said。　〃It's　been　a　difficult　night。〃　He　squeezed　her　arm。　〃I　didn't　like　that　Arimondan；〃　she　said　after　a　moment。
　　〃Or　the　northerner；　I　saw。　But　don't　think　about　them。　It　has　nothing　to　do　with　us。　Think　about　your　song。　Alain's　downstairs；　by　the　way；　happy　as　a　crow　in　a　grainfield。　They're　all　t