ggk.asongforarbonne-第74节

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d　him　to　what　was　about　to　happen　tomorrow　were　not　entirely　shaped　by　the　pragmatic　appraisal　of　risks　and　gains。　They　were　concerned　for　him。　The　countess；　Bertran　and　Valery；　Rudel　certainly；　and　now　it　was　equally　obvious…even　to　Blaise；　who　had　never　been　good　with　understandings　of　this　sort…that　Ariane　was　speaking　with　more　than　an　abstract　interest　in　the　rules　of　this　challenge。
　　They　had　encountered　her　husband　when　they　first　entered　the　house；　then　Duke　Thierry　had　gracefully　excused　himself　when　Bertran　made　it　clear　they　were　calling　upon　his　wife　in　her　formal　capacity。　The　duke　of　Carenzu　was　a　slender；　well…built　man；　whose　sexual　tastes　and　appetites　were　in　no　way　visible　in　his　manner。　He　was　also；　Valery　had　said　earlier；　an　exceptionally　petent　leader。
　　His　wife；　Blaise　was　thinking；　was　even　more　than　that。　He　felt　oddly　unsettled　now；　meeting　her　lucid　gaze；　remembering；　with　unexpected　clarity　on　this　bright　autumn　morning；　the　summer　night　they　had　spent　together；　her　words　and　manner　as　much　as　the　act　of　love。　It　came　to　him　that　if　they　had　been　alone　she　might　have　been　saying　different　things　just　now。　For　that　matter；　he　might　have　been　doing　the　same。　This　was　a　woman　he　trusted；　Blaise　suddenly　realized；　and　he　felt　a　momentary　surprise。
　　They　had　told　her　about　the　meeting　with　King　Daufridi。　Bertran　had　discussed　it　with　the　countess　and　Roban　as　well；　he　had　been　in　the　palace　early；　before　they　came　here　this　morning。　Events　were　beginning　to　move　with　speed。　With　Rosala　de　Garsenc　and　a　male　child　in　Barbentain　it　was　clear…it　had　to　be　clear　to　everyone；　Blaise　thought…that　any　number　of　dangerous　things　were　likely　to　happen　quickly。　His　head　ached　dully。　He　was　beginning　to　regret　the　last　part　of　the　night　almost　as　much　as　the　first。
　　Looking　at　Ariane；　drinking　in　her　cool　beauty　like　a　reviving　draught；　he　said；　〃This　whole　exercise　is　about　how　we　are　seen　in　the　eyes　of　the　world。　I　lose　too　much　if　I　am　thought　to　be　afraid　of　him；　or　to　be　arranging　the　affair　to　my　obvious　advantage。　I　am　grateful　for　your　concern；　but　there　is　no　point　to　this　challenge　if　we　manipulate　it。〃
　　〃And　there　is　a　point　to　this？　We　are　entitled　to　assume　that？〃　The　same　question　the　countess　had　asked。　
　　He　ignored　the　sharp　tone　and　gave　her　the　same　answer。　〃I　hope　so。　I　hope　there　is。〃
　　In　truth；　he　wasn't　certain。　He　was　certain　of　nothing　just　now。　He　felt　like　one　of　those　legendary　dancers　from　Arimonda's　distant　past　who　were　said　to　have　leaped　over　the　horns　of　bulls　for　the　pleasure　of　their　kings。　He　was　in　the　middle　of　such　a　leap　right　now；　grimly　conscious　of　the　gleaming；　killing　horns。　It　had　seemed　to　Blaise；　late　last　　night…a　thought　shaped　half　of　piety　and　half　of　simple　fear…that　Corannos　had　actually　guided　him　here　to　Arbonne。　That　his　journey　south　had　not　been　fortuitous；　not　simply　an　escape　from　burdens　and　sorrows　at　home　or　in　Portezza。　It　had　been　a　movement　towards　destiny；　the　one　chance　the　world　might　offer　him　to　make　good　the　vow　he'd　sworn　when　he　left　Garsenc　Castle。　He　hadn't　known　he　would　say　what　he　had　said　to　Daufridi　of　Valensa。　He　hadn't　prepared　his　challenge　to　Quzman　in　advance。　He　was　a　dancer　with　the　bulls；　moving　with　their　movements；　in　flight　now　over　the　horns　of　his　fate。
　　Drawing　a　breath　to　gather　and　hold　his　thoughts；　he　told　Ariane　then　how　he　wanted　certain　things　to　be　done　on　the　morrow。　Her　features　grew　still　and　focused　as　she　listened。
　　Bertran　came　closer；　resting　a　hand　on　the　back　of　her　divan。　He　added　a　suggestion　when　Blaise　was　done。　Valery　said　nothing　at　all。　He　looked　grimly　unhappy。　Blaise　couldn't　tell　how　Rudel　looked；　his　friend　was　still　slumped　in　his　deep　chair；　only　the　fair；　tousled　hair　visible　from　behind。　He　thought　Rudel　might　even　have　fallen　asleep；　but　discovered；　when　he　was　finished；　that　this　was　not　so。
　　〃My　father　was　right；〃　said　the　heir　to　the　Correze　fortune　in　a　musing　tone。　〃I　will　very　probably　go　forth　to　repent　this　allegiance　of　mine　more　than　all　the　other　errors　of　my　life。　I　ought　surely　to　have　known　better　than　to　leave　the　banking　business　and　take　up　with　madmen　from　Gorhaut。〃
　　There　were　a　number　of　replies　that　could　be　made　to　that；　from　the　cutting；　to　the　witty；　to　the　soberly　judicious。　No　one　said　anything；　though。
　　
　　〃He　will　want　to　cut　downwards　on　the　angle　and　then　back　across　low　for　your　knees；〃　Valery　said。　Rudel　was　tightening　the　drawstrings　on　the　leather　armour　to　be　worn　by　the　two　men　fighting。
　　〃I　know；〃　said　Blaise。　〃It's　the　usual　attack　with　a　curved　sword。〃　He　wasn't　really　concentrating　though；　either　on　the　words　of　advice　or　the　increasing　level　of　sound　he　could　hear　from　the　pavilions。　When　he　and　Quzman　were　ready　to　emerge　from　their　tents　the　sounds　would　rise　to　a　crescendo　and　then　fall　for　the　ceremony　of　introduction　before　beginning　again；　on　a　different　note；　when　the　killing　began。　It　was　the　same　all　over　the　world。　Blaise　had　seen　a　number　of　challenges　to　the　death。　He　had　fought　in　a　foolish　one；　years　before；　when　a　Valensan　coran　had　insulted　the　king　of　Gorhaut　in　the　presence　of　one　of　that　king's　newest；　youngest　corans。　Blaise　had　been　lucky　to　survive　and　he　knew　it；　the　Valensan　had　taken　his　youthful　opponent　too　casually　and　paid　the　price。　Blaise　had　worn　the　dead　man's　armour　for　years。
　　〃He'll　have　a　knife　in　his　belt　and　one　behind　his　left　calf；〃　Rudel　murmured。　〃And　he　won't　hesitate　to　throw。　He's　known　for　that；　and　accurate　with　both　hands。　Keep　your　shield　up。〃
　　Blaise　nodded　again。　They　meant　him　a　world　of　good；　he　knew；　it　was　their　anxieties　that　were　producing　this　outpouring　of　instruction。　He　remembered　being　exactly　the　same　way　when　serving　as　squire　to　friends　in　their　challenges；　including　Rudel；　three　times　if　he　remembered　rightly。
　　He　really　wasn't　paying　close　attention　though。　This　had　happened　to　him　before：　his　mind　wandered　before　battle；　drifting　along　unexpected　pathways。　It　kept　him　calm；　until　the　moment　the　fighting　began；　when　the　sensation　was　akin　to　a　muffling　curtain　pulled　swiftly　aside；　and　Blaise　would　feel　all　his　senses　converge　like　arrows　upon　the　battleground。
　　Just　now　he　was　remembering　Rudel's　last　ment　in　Ariane's　chambers　that　morning。　He　thought　about　Vitalle　Correze；　who　wanted　his　much…loved　son　to　be　a　banker　not　a　coran；　and　then　about　his　relationship　with　his　own　father。　He　wasn't　sure　why　his　thoughts　were　turning　that　way。　Perhaps　as　he　grew　older；　saw　more　of　the　world　and　its　interactions；　he　was　corning　to　understand　the　degree　to　which　the　Garsenc　men　had　poisoned　each　other。　He　suddenly　wondered；　for　the　first　time；　how　Ranald　would　be　feeling　about　Rosala's　flight。　He　realized　that　he　had　no　idea；　absolutely　none；　he　didn't　know　his　brother　very　well。
　　Valery　tapped　him　briskly　on　the　shoulder　and　Blaise　obediently　sat　down　on　the　stool　and　straightened　his　legs　in　front　of　him。　His　friends　knelt　and　began　lacing　and　tying　the　supple　Portezzan　leather　about　his　thighs　and　calves。　Through　a　gap　in　the　tent　flap　behind　their　bent　heads　Blaise　could　glimpse　the　dazzling　colours　of　the　pavilions　in　the　morning　sunlight；　and　the　green　grass　where　he　would　be　fighting　soon。
　　They　hadn't　raised　the　banner　above　his　tent　yet；　following　his　instructions　of　yesterday。　For　most　of　the　people　in　the　pavilions　or　in　the　moners'　standing　ground　on　the　other　side　he　was　simply　a　Gorhautian　coran　enmeshed　in　some　quarrel　with　an　Arimondan。　A　quarrel　that　was　about　to　offer　them　the　most　exciting　entertainment　there　was。　A　handful　of　people　knew　more；　and　there　would　be　rumours　of　course；　there　were　usually　rumours　at　a　time　like　this。
　　He　felt　very　calm。　He　was　always　calm　before　fighting　now；　though　it　hadn't　been　that　way　in　the　beginning；　years　ago。　He　had　prayed　last　night；　kneeling　on　the　cold　stone　floor　in　the　surprisingly　handsome　chapel　of　Corannos　in　Lussan。　He　had　not　asked　for　victory；　a　coran　never　did。
　　Before　the　two　tall　candles　above　the　frieze　he　had　offered　the　ancient　prayers　for　sunrise　and　sunset　and　for　the　strength　of　the　god's　life…giving　golden　light。　The　frieze　itself　had　been　masterfully　done；　a　rendering　of　Corannos　bestowing　fire　upon　the　first　men；　that　the　nights　might　hold　less　terror　than　before。
　　Perhaps　he　shouldn't　have　been　so　surprised　by　the　serene　grace　of　the　god's　houses　here。　They　worshipped　Corannos　in　Arbonne。　He　had　always　known　that；　there　were　corans　here；　after　all；　with　the　same　rituals　of　initiation　and　invocation　that　he　had　passed　through　in　Gorhaut；　the　same　ones　used　in　all　six　countries。　It　had　been　difficult；　though；　when　he　first　arrived；　in　those　early　days　at　Castle　Baude　in　the　highlands；　to　overe　a　lifetime　of　prejudice　and　vicious　innuendo；　much　of　it　ing；　of　course；　from　his　father。　It　was　odd　how　often　he　was　thinking　about　his　father　of　late。　Or　perhaps　not　so　odd　after　all；　given　what　he　was　about　to　do。　They　said　the　mind　reached　backwards　when　one's　life　was　in　extreme　peril。
　　Galbert　de　Garsenc　had　stipulated　that　his　younger　son　follow　him　into　the　clergy　of　Corannos。　It　was　not　a　matter　for　discussion；　what　the　High　Elder