ggk.asongforarbonne-第67节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


even　as　she　wept。　He　was　a　cold；　hard；　bitter　man；　Blaise　de　Garsenc；　with　no　grace　or　kindness　ever　shown　to　her　at　all；　but　he　was　right；　he　was　so　right　about　the　other　two。
　　She　remembered　lying　awake　in　her　bed　that　night　when　they　finally　retired。　Ranald　in　the　connecting　room　had　dropped　into　a　snoring　slumber　she　could　hear　through　the　closed　door。　He　spoke　to　himself　in　the　night　sometimes；　crying　out　in　grief　like　a　child　in　the　darkness　of　his　dreams。　In　the　first　months　of　their　marriage　she　had　tried　to　fort　him　at　such　times；　she　didn't　do　that　any　more。　Chilled　and　afraid；　listening　to　the　mad　keening　of　the　wind；　she　had　waited；　listening　for　the　sound　of　Blaise　ing　back　for　his　gear　before　leaving。　When　he　did；　when　she　heard　his　booted　tread　in　the　hallway；　she　had　risen　from　her　bed　and　gone　to　his　room；　her　own　feet　bare　on　the　bitter　stones。
　　He　had　been　packing　a　saddle…bag　by　candlelight　when　she　walked　in。　She　did　not　knock　on　the　door。　There　was　snow　on　his　clothing；　ice　clumped　in　the　tawny　hair　and　beard。　She　had　been　clad　in　nothing　but　her　sleeping…gown；　her　fair　hair　let　down　about　her　shoulders　for　the　night。　He　would　never　have　seen　her　hair　down　before。　They　had　looked　at　each　other　for　a　frozen　moment；　silent　within　the　midnight　silence　of　the　castle；　then　Rosala　had　said；　softly；　not　to　be　heard　at　all　outside　this　room；　outside　the　small　space　of　this　single　candle's　glow；　〃Will　you　not　love　me　once？　Only　once　before　you　go？〃
　　And　Blaise　had　crossed　the　room　and　lifted　her　in　his　arms　and　laid　her　down　upon　his　bed；　with　her　bright　yellow　hair　spread　out　upon　his　pillow　and　her　gown　slipping　with　a　rustle　of　sound　above　her　waist　as　she　raised　her　hips　to　let　him　move　it　so；　and　he　had　blown　out　the　one　candle　and　removed　his　wet　clothing　and　taken　her　in　darkness　before　he　left　his　home　again；　taken　her　in　silence；　in　rage　and　bitterness；　and　in　the　endless　bone…deep　anguish　she　knew　he　lived　with　because　of　his　own　lack　of　power。　There　had　been　no　love　that　she　could　name　in　the　room　with　the　two　of　them；　none　at　all。
　　And　it　had　not　mattered。
　　She　had　known　what　would　be　the　things　that　might　bring　him　to　touch　her　that　night；　what　would　drive　him；　and　she　had　not　cared。　Whatever　it　takes；　she　had　thought　in　her　own　cold　bed；　summoning　courage　to　her　as　from　a　far…off　place　while　she　waited　for　him　to　return。　Whatever　would　bring　him　to　take　her　for　at　least　the　one　time。
　　And　in　his　room　later；　in　that　darkness；　with　the　unholy　wind　raging　beyond　the　walls；　the　same　thought　again：　she　would　accept　and　wele…her　hands　grappling　him　hard　to　her；　feeling　him　beginning　to　thrust　with　urgency；　hearing　the　quickening　pace　of　his　breathing…whatever　might　bring　him　to　give　her　the　child　Ranald　could　not。
　　He　spoke　her　name　once；　after。　She　would　remember　that。
　　
　　She　did　remember　it；　sitting　in　the　window　seat　in　Barbentain。　Curiously；　it　had　e　to　matter。　Not　so　much　for　herself…she　was　not　a　woman　who　nurtured　such　illusions…but　for　Cadar。　Rational　or　not；　it　somehow　seemed　important　to　her　now　that　at　her　child's　conception　that　one　spoken　link　between　the　two　of　them　had　been　made　manifest。　It　was　an　irony　of　sorts　that　it　was　the　man　who　had　done　so；　her　own　single…minded　need　had　precluded　such　a　reaching　out。　She　wondered　what　the　priestesses　of　the　goddess　would　say　about　that；　what　their　teaching　would　be。　What　happened；　in　their　doctrine；　when　Corannos　and　Rian　came　together　in　love…if　they　did？　She　knew　almost　nothing　about　the　rituals　of　worship　here　in　Arbonne；　only　the　twisted　versions　of　them　uttered　with　loathing　in　Gorhaut　by　the　brethren　of　the　god。　She　wondered　if　she　would　be　here　long　enough　to　learn　the　truth。
　　There　were　footsteps　in　the　corridor　behind　her。　The　wet…nurse；　she　thought；　quickly　concerned。　She　was　about　to　lean　out　from　the　window　seat　but　the　steps　halted　just　before　where　she　sat；　and　Rosala　heard　a　woman's　voice　she　did　not　know；　and　then　a　man's。　She　remained　motionless　in　the　shadows　of　the　alcove　and　realized；　after　a　moment；　that　the　voices　were　speaking　of　murder。
　　〃It　is　to　be　done　neatly　and　in　silence；〃　the　woman　said　nervously　in　accented　Arbonnais。　〃She　told　me　to　say　as　much。〃
　　〃I　tend　not　to　make　a　great　deal　of　noise　with　a　blade；〃　the　man　answered；　amused。　His　voice　was　deep　and　assured。
　　〃You　do　not　understand。　This　must　not　be　traced　to　her。　The　body　will　have　to　be　disposed　of；　and　no　one　the　wiser。　She　said　it　would　be　best　if　he　didn't　even　see　you；　lest　he　cry　out。〃
　　〃Ah。　She　will　be　keeping　him　occupied？　Oblivious　to　all　else　in　the　world？　Does　this　sort　of　thing　excite　her？　Will　I　have　other　duties；　after？〃
　　〃You　need　not　be　vulgar；〃　the　woman　said　primly。
　　The　man　laughed　softly。　〃Fear　not。　I　will　only　follow　your　mistress's　lead。　If　she　wants　to　taste　blood　she　will　have　to　ask。　He　must　see　me；　though；　or　there　is　no　point　in　this。　He　must　know　who　is　killing　him。〃
　　〃He　might　call　for　help。　We　cannot　allow…〃
　　〃He　will　not。　This　is　not　a　man　inclined　to　call　for　help。　And　there　will　not　be　very　much　time；　I　promise　you。　e；　which　door？　There　is　a　ghost　to　be　assuaged；　and　I　have　tarried。〃
　　They　went　by　her　then；　shadows　behind　them　and　then　before　as　they　passed　under　the　wall　torch　in　the　empty　corridor。　Rosala　shrank　back　against　the　window。　The　joglar　in　the　great　hall　below　was　singing　of　endless　love　and　unrequited　desire。　Neither　the　man　nor　the　woman　turned　as　they　went　by。　She　knew　neither　of　them。　At　a　doorway　a　little　distance　down　their　footsteps　stopped。　Holding　her　breath；　Rosala　leaned　out　slightly。　She　saw　the　man　smile　then　and　draw　a　knife　from　his　belt。　He　opened　the　door　and　slipped　inside；　moving　with　silent；　feline　grace。　The　door　closed　behind　him。　There　came　no　sound　at　all　from　within　the　room。　The　woman　hesitated　for　a　moment　and　Rosala　saw　her　make　a　quick；　warding　sign　before　hurrying　along　the　corridor　and　down　another　flight　of　stairs　at　the　far　end。
　　It　was　silent　in　the　hallway；　save　for　the　distant　voice　of　the　singer　drifting　up　from　below；　mournful　and　melodious。　Rosala　brought　her　hands　up　to　her　face。　There　was　a　horror　about　to　happen。　She　could　scream；　she　knew；　to　summon　aid；　and　perhaps　it　would　be　in　time；　more　likely　not。　She　was　not　a　woman　inclined　to　scream。　She　took　a　steadying　breath；　struggling　to　decide　what　to　do。　Her　first；　her　only　duty；　was　to　Cadar；　to　guard　her　own　safety　as　his　sole　shelter　in　the　world。　There　was　no　disputing　that；　or　what　choice　it　pelled。
　　Rosala　de　Savaric　stood　up；　looked　back　along　the　corridor　to　where　her　new…born　son　was　sleeping　and　resolutely　began　walking　the　other　way。　She　was　her　father's　daughter；　and　would　not　sit　silent　in　a　window　seat　or　turn　her　back　and　let　a　man　be　murdered　in　a　castle　that　had　given　her　haven。
　　As　it　happened；　she　knew　whose　suite　of　rooms　the　man　with　the　blade　had　just　entered。　The　mingled　scents　of　spices　and　perfume　had　been　redolent　in　the　corridor　since　that　guest　had　arrived。　The　priestesses　and　the　wet…nurse　had　been　talking　about　her　obsessively　for　two　days。　Rosala　paused　outside　that　doorway　only　long　enough　to　look　back　one　last　time　towards　Cadar's　room；　then　she　squared　her　shoulders　in　a　gesture　that　had　also　been　her　mother's；　and　she　opened　Lucianna　Delonghi's　door　and　stepped　inside。
　　
　　Daufridi　and　his　escort　left　the　inn　first。　Bertran　gave　them　some　time　and　then　they　rode　back　to　Lussan　themselves；　passing　under　the　trees　and　then　along　the　west　bank　of　the　river　beneath　the　blue　moon。　Just　inside　the　gates　of　the　city　the　duke　insisted　on　parting　from　the　three　of　them。
　　He　looked　at　Blaise；　hesitated；　and　then　smiled　wolfishly　in　the　moonlight。　〃I　neglected　to　mention　it　to　you…the　baron　of　Castle　Baude　arrived　this　morning。　I　thought　I　would　say　hello　to　Mallin　before　retiring　for　the　night。　Shall　I　convey　your　good　wishes？〃
　　Even　with　what　he　had　learned　from　Ariane　de　Carenzu　last　summer；　there　was　still　something　disconcerting　to　Blaise　about　Bertran's　indefatigable　energy　in　this　regard。　With　all　that　had　just　happened；　with　grim；　huge　discussions　of　his　country's　fate　scarcely　behind　him；　the　duke　of　Talair　was　of　a　mind　to　go　wandering　in　the　night。
　　Blaise　shrugged。　〃Please　do；〃　he　murmured。　〃And　to　Soresina；　if　you　should　happen　to　see　her。〃
　　Bertran's　smile　flashed　briefly　again。　〃Don't　wait　up。　Sunrise　will　see　me　homeward；　when　the　morning　breaks。〃　He　always　said　that：　the　refrain　of　one　of　his　own　songs　from　years　ago。　He　turned　his　horse　and　was　gone　into　the　shadows。
　　〃Should　he　be　alone？〃　Rudel　asked。　〃Under　the　circumstances？〃　There　was　something　extraordinary　about　that；　too；　Blaise　thought：　the　man　raising　the　question　had　tried　to　kill　Bertran　three　months　ago。
　　〃He　won't　be；〃　Valery　replied　quietly；　looking　down　the　lane　where　his　cousin　had　ridden。　〃Watch。〃　A　moment　later　they　saw　three　horsemen　canter　out　from　the　darkness　and　set　off　after　the　duke。　In　their　brief　transit　through　the　torchlight　by　the　city　walls；　one　of　them　waved　briefly；　Valery　lifted　a　hand　in　return。　Blaise　recognized　the　livery　and　relaxed　a　little：　the　countess　of　Arbonne　was　evidently　taking　pains