ggk.asongforarbonne-第9节

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　into　the　backside　of　the　priestess　who　was　standing；　half…hidden；　beside　the　closest　palm　to　the　entranceway。　Blaise　didn't　know　if　she　was　there　as　a　guard　for　the　poet　or　as　a　devotee　of　his　art。　There　really　wasn't　time　to　explore　such　nuances。　A　sound　from　the　woman　could　kill　them　all。
　　Fortunately；　she　was　raptly　intent　on　the　figure　of　the　chanting　poet　not　far　away。　Blaise　could　see　Evrard　sitting　on　a　stone　bench　at　the　near　end　of　a　pool　in　the　garden；　facing　away　from　them；　muning　with　himself；　or　the　still　waters；　or　whatever　poets　did　their　muning　with。
　　Disdaining　finesse；　Blaise　surged　to　his　feet；　grabbed　the　woman　from　behind　and　covered　her　mouth　with　one　hand。　She　sucked　air　to　scream　and　he　tightened　his　grip　about　her　mouth　and　throat。　They　were　not　to　kill。　He　disliked　unnecessary　death　in　any　event。　In　the　silence　he　had　been　trained　to　by　the　assassins　of　Portezza；　Blaise　held　the　struggling　woman；　depriving　her　of　air　until　he　felt　her　slump　heavily　back　against　him。　Carefully…for　this　was　an　old　trick…he　relaxed　his　grip。　There　was　no　deception　here　though；　the　priestess　lay　slack　in　his　arms。　She　was　a　large　woman　with　an　unexpectedly　young　face。　Looking　at　her；　Blaise　doubted　this　one　would　have　been　a　guard。　He　wondered　how　she'd　got　out　from　the　pound；　it　was　the　sort　of　thing　that　might　someday　be　useful　to　know。　Not　that　he　planned　on　ing　back　here　in　a　hurry；　if　ever。
　　Laying　the　priestess　carefully　down　beneath　the　palm　tree；　he　motioned　Maffour　with　a　jerk　of　his　head　to　go　into　the　garden。　Hirnan　and　Thulier　came　silently　up　and　began　binding　the　woman　in　the　shadows。
　　Yours　the　glory；　bright　Rian；　while　we　mortal　men　
　　Walk　humbly　in　the　umbra　of　your　great　light；　
　　Seeking　sweet　solace　in　the…
　　〃Who　is　there？〃　Evrard　of　Lussan　called　without　turning；　more　peeved　than　alarmed。　〃You　all　know　I　must　not　be　disturbed　when　I　work。〃
　　〃We　do　know　that；　your　grace；〃　Maffour　said　smoothly；　ing　up　beside　the　man。
　　Edging　closer；　hidden　by　the　bushes；　Blaise　winced　at　the　unctuous　flattery　of　the　title。　Evrard　had　no　more　claim　to　it　than　Maffour　did；　but　Mallin　had　been　explicit　in　his　instructions　to　the　most　articulate　of　his　corans。
　　〃Who　are　you？〃　Evrard　asked　sharply；　turning　quickly　to　look　at　Maffour　in　the　moonlight。　Blaise　moved　nearer；　low　to　the　ground；　trying　to　slip　around　to　the　other　side　of　the　bench。　He　had　his　own　views　on　what　was　about　to　happen。
　　〃Maffour　of　Baude；　your　grace；　with　a　message　from　En　Mallin　himself。〃
　　〃I　thought　I　recognized　you；〃　Evrard　said　haughtily。　〃How　dare　you　e　in　this　fashion；　disturbing　my　thoughts　and　my　art？〃　Nothing　about　impiety　or　trespass　or　the　affront　to　the　goddess　he　was　currently　lauding；　Blaise　thought　sardonically；　pausing　next　to　a　small　statue。
　　〃I　have　nothing　to　say　to　your　baron　or　his　ill…mannered　wife；　and　am　in　no　mood　to　listen　to　whatever　tritely　phrased　message　they　have　cobbled　together　for　me。〃　Evrard's　tone　was　lordly。
　　〃I　have　e　a　long　way　in　some　peril；〃　Maffour　said　placatingly；　〃and　Mallin　de　Baude's　message　is　deeply　sincere　and　not　long。　Will　you　not　honour　me　by　hearing　it；　your　grace？〃
　　〃Honour？〃　Evrard　of　Lussan　said；　his　voice　rising　querulously。　〃What　claim　has　anyone　in　that　castle　to　honour　of　any　kind？　I　bestowed　upon　them　a　grace　they　never　deserved。　I　gave　to　Mallin　whatever　dignity　he　claimed…through　my　presence　there；　through　my　art。〃　His　words　grew　dangerously　loud。　〃Whatever　he　was　being　in　the　gaze　of　Arbonne；　of　the　world；　he　owed　to　me。　And　in　return；　in　return　for　that…〃
　　〃In　return　for　that；　for　no　reason　I　can　understand；　he　seeks　your　pany　again；〃　Blaise　said；　stepping　quickly　forward；　having　heard　quite　a　bit　more　than　enough。
　　As　Evrard　glanced　back　at　him　wide…eyed；　attempting　to　rise；　Blaise　used　the　haft　of　his　dagger　for　the　second　time　that　night；　bringing　it　down　with　carefully　judged　force　on　the　balding　pate　of　the　troubadour。　Maffour　moved　quickly　to　catch　the　man　as　he　fell。
　　〃I　cannot　begin　to　tell　you；〃　Blaise　said　fervently　as　Hirnan　and　Thulier　joined　them；　〃how　much　I　enjoyed　doing　that。〃
　　Hirnan　grunted。　〃We　can　guess。　What　took　you　so　long？〃
　　Blaise　grinned　at　the　three　of　them。　〃What？　And　interfere　with　Maffour's　great　moment？　I　really　wanted　to　hear　that　speech。〃
　　〃I'lll　recite　it　for　you　on　the　way　back　then；〃　Maffour　said　sourly。　〃With　all　the　'your　grace's'　too。〃
　　〃Spare　us；〃　said　Hirnan　briefly。　He　bent　and　effortlessly　shouldered　the　body　of　the　small　troubadour。
　　Still　grinning；　Blaise　led　the　way　this　time；　without　a　word；　down　towards　the　south　end　of　the　garden；　away　from　the　sanctuary　lights　and　the　walls　and　the　temple　domes；　and　then；　circling　carefully；　back　towards　the　shelter　of　the　wood。　If　these　were　the　corans　of　a　lesser　baron；　he　was　thinking　to　himself；　and　they　turned　out　to　be　this　coolly　petent…with　one　vivid　exception…he　was　going　to　have　to　do　some　serious　reassessing；　when　they　got　back　to　land；　of　the　men　of　this　country　of　Arbonne；　even　with　its　troubadours　and　joglars　and　a　woman　ruling　them。
　　
　　The　one　vivid　exception　was　having；　without　the　least　shadow　of　any　possible　doubt；　the　worst　night　of　his　life。
　　In　the　first　place；　there　were　the　noises。　Even　at　the　edge　of　the　woods；　the　sounds　of　the　night　forest　kept　making　their　way　to　Luth's　pricked　ears；　triggering　waves　of　panic　that　succeeded　each　other　in　a　seemingly　endless　progression。
　　Secondly　there　was　Vanne。　Or；　not　exactly　Vanne；　but　his　absence；　for　the　other　coran　assigned　to　guard　duty　kept　wilfully　abandoning　Luth；　his　designated　partner；　and　making　his　own　way　down　the　rope　to　check　on　the　two　clerics　in　the　sailboat；　then　going　off　into　the　forest　itself　to　listen　for　the　return　of　their　fellows；　or　for　other　less　happy　possibilities。　Either　of　these　forays　would　leave　Luth　alone　for　long　moments　at　a　time　to　cope　with　sounds　and　ambiguous　shiftings　in　the　shadows　of　the　plateau　or　at　the　edges　of　the　trees；　with　no　one　to　turn　to　for　reassurance。
　　The　truth　was；　Luth　said　to　himself…and　he　would　have　sworn　to　it　as　an　oath　in　any　temple　of　the　goddess…that　he　really　wasn't　a　coward；　though　he　knew　every　man　here　would　think　him　one　from　tonight　onward。　He　wasn't　though：　put　him　on　a　crag　above　Castle　Baude　in　a　thunderstorm；　with　thieves　on　the　slopes　making　off　with　the　baron's　sheep；　and　Luth　would　be　fierce　in　pursuit　of　them；　sure…footed　and　deft　among　the　rocks；　and　not　at　all　bad　with　his　bow　or　blade　when　he　caught　up　with　the　bandits。　He'd　done　that；　he'd　done　it　last　summer；　with　Giresse　and　Hirnan。　He'd　killed　a　man　that　night　with　a　bowshot　in　darkness；　and　it　was　he　who　had　led　the　other　two　back　down　the　treacherous　slopes　to　safety　with　the　flock。
　　Not　that　they　were　likely　to　remember　that；　or　bother　to　remind　the　others　of　it；　after　tonight。　If　any　of　them　lived　through　tonight。　If　they　ever　left　this　island。　If　they…
　　What　was　that？
　　Luth　wheeled；　his　heart　lurching　like　a　small　boat　hit　by　a　crossing　wave；　in　time　to　see　Vanne　making　his　way　back　onto　the　plateau　from　yet　another　survey　of　the　woods。　The　other　coran　gave　him　a　curious　glance　in　the　shadows　but　said　nothing。　They　were　not　to　speak；　Luth　knew。　He　found　their　own　enforced　silence　almost　as　stressful　as　the　noises　of　the　night　forest。
　　Because　they　weren't　just　noises；　and　this　wasn't　just　night…time。　These　were　the　sounds　of　Rian's　Island；　which　was　holy；　and　the　eight　of　them　were　here　without　proper　consecration；　without　any　claim　of　right…only　a　drunken　ex…priest's　mangling　of　the　words　of　ritual…and　they　had　laid　violent　hands　on　two　of　the　goddess's　truly　anointed　before　they'd　even　landed。
　　Luth's　problem；　very　simply；　was　that　he　was　a　believer　in　the　powers　of　the　goddess；　profoundly　so。　If　that　could　really　be　called　a　problem。　He'd　had　a　religious；　superstitious　grandmother　who'd　worshipped　both　Rian　and　Corannos　along　with　a　variety　of　hearth　spirits　and　seasonal　ones；　and　who'd　known　just　enough　about　magic　and　folk　spells　to　leave　the　grandson　she'd　reared　helplessly　prey　to　the　terrors　of　precisely　the　sort　of　place　where　they　were　now。　Had　he　not　been　so　anxious　not　to　lose　face　among　the　other　corans　and　his　baron　and　the　big；　capable；　grimly　sardonic　northern　mercenary　Mallin　had　brought　to　lead　and　train　them；　Luth　would　certainly　have　found　a　way　to　back　out　of　the　mission　when　he　was　named　for　it。
　　He　should　have；　he　thought　dismally。　Whatever　status　that　withdrawal　would　have　cost　him　was　as　nothing　pared　to　how　he'd　be　diminished　and　mocked　because　of　what　had　happened　tonight。　Who　would　ever　have　thought　that　simple　piety；　a　prayer　of　thanks　to　holy　Rian　herself；　could　get　a　person　into　so　much　trouble？　How　should　a　high　country　man　know　how　bizarrely　far　sound…a　murmured　prayer！…could　carry　at　sea？　And　Hirnan　had　hurt　him　with　that　pincer…like　grip　of　his。　The　oldest　coran　was　a　big　man；　almost　as　big　as　the　bearded　northerner；　and　his　fingers　had　been　like　claws　of　iron。　Hirnan　should　have　known　better；　Luth　thought；　trying　to　summon　some　sense　of　outrage　at　how　unfair　all　of　this　was　turning　out　to　be。
　　He　jumped　sideways　again；　stumbled；　and　almost