fs.thethirdbookofswords-第21章
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dhealer had restored them marvelously； still the journey was hard and their food meagre。
Yet it was happy； despite continued difficulties and periods of fear。 And as they left the last fringes of the area already devastated by Vilkata's army； their own foraging became correspondingly easier。 Farms and houses were even fewer now； this was a region sparsely inhabited in the best of times。
Mark tried to count up the days of their journey。 Watching the phases of the Moon； he decided it was now almost a month since he had approached and entered Vilkata's camp。
At last there came the day when they rode into sight of a banner of blue and green； raised on a tall rustic pole。 The Tasavaltan flagpole stood atop a crag that overlooked the road； just where the road entered the first pass of mountain foothills。 Kristin shed tears at sight of the flag； Mark had to look at her closely to be sure that they were tears of joy。
She assured Mark that what he had been told of Tasavalta was correct； that although it was not a huge land it was certainly spectacular。 In any event he could now begin to see that for himself。 Kristin explained the topography in a general way： there were two main mountain ranges； one right along the coastline to the east； the other a few kilometers inland； just inside the first long line of sheltered valleys。 Both these ranges were really southern extensions of the Ludus Mountains； now many kilometers to the north。
〃I grew up in sight of the Ludus；〃 Mark said。 〃We could see them on a clear day； anyway； from home。〃
Despite the southern latitude they had now reached； here in late summer there were still traces of ice and snow visible upon the highest Tasavaltan peaks ahead。 The coast was deeply cut with fjords here； and cold ocean currents kept this almost tropic land in a state of perpetual spring。
Mark and Kristin pushed on； urging their tired riding beasts past that first frontier marking。 Mark kept glancing at his panion。 She was more often silent now； and looked more worried the farther they went。
He asked Kristin suddenly； 〃Still worried about what your teacher in the white arts is going to say？〃 〃That's not it。 Or not altogether。〃
Still the secrecy； and it annoyed him。 〃What； then？〃
But she would not give him what he considered a straight answer； and his annoyance grew。 Something about her family； he supposed。 What they were going to say when she brought home an almost penniless foreign soldier as a prospective husband。 Mark was sure by now that Kristin's family were no peasants。 Well； the two of them had been traveling alone together for a month。 If her people were like most of the well…to…do families that Mark had known； that would be a powerful inducement for them to give their consent。 In any case he was going to marry her； he would entertain no doubt of that； and he kept reassuring himself that she showed no hesitation on that point either。
She might； he sometimes thought； be withholding information about some plication or obstacle。 If she feared he might be influenced by anything like that … well； she didn't yet know him as well as she was going to。
Once they had passed that first flagpole marking the frontier； the road immediately improved。 It also began a steeper climb； sometimes requiring long winding switchbacks。 For the first time on this journey Mark could glimpse the sea； chewing at the feet of the coastal mountains。 It was deep blue in the distance； then the color of Kristin's eyes； then as it met land frothed into white。 Now； on either side of the road； there were meadows； presently being harvested of hay by industrious…looking peasants who were not shy about exchanging waves at a distance with shabbily dressed wayfaring strangers。 The lifesaving cloak of Vilkata's colors had long since been rolled up into a tight black bundle and lodged behind Mark's saddle。
Now Kristin pointed ahead； to where the sunspark of a heliograph could be seen winking intermittently from the top of a small mountain。 〃That may be some message about us。 In times like these； the lookouts tend to take notice of every traveler。〃
〃Do you know the code？〃
〃Yes … but that's not aimed in our direction。 I can't see enough of it to read。〃
Now … oddly as it appeared to Mark … Kristin's worry had been replaced by a kind of gaiety。 As if whatever had been worrying her had happened now； and all that mattered after that was to make the best of life； moment by moment。 Now she was able to relax and enjoy her homeing； like any other rescued prisoner。
He took what he saw as an opportunity to try to talk seriously to her again。 〃You're going to marry me； and right away； no matter what you family or anyone else says about it。〃 He stated it as firmly as he could。
〃Yes； oh darling； yes。 I certainly am。〃 And Kristin was every bit as positive as he was about it。 But he could see now that her sadness； though it had been conquered； was not entirely gone。
Things of very great importance to her … whatever all the implications might be exactly … had been set aside； because it was more important to Kristin that she marry him。 Mark made； not for the first time on this journey； a silent vow to see that she never regretted that decision。
He was cheered to see that happiness increasingly dominated her mood as they went on。 She was ing home； she was going to see a family and friends who must at the very least be badly worried about her now； who might very possibly have given her up for dead。
The road； now well paved； rounded a shoulder of the same small mountain upon whose peak they had seen the heliograph。 Then it promptly turned into a cobblestone street； as the travelers found themselves entering the first village of Tasavalta。 It was； Mark decided； really a small town。 He wondered what it was called。 Not far ahead on the right was a small； clean…looking inn； and he suggested that they stop。 He had a little money with him still； carried in an inner pocket。 〃If they will let us in； we do look somewhat ragged。〃 Their scavenging through deserted houses had added to their wardrobe； but only doubtfully improved its quality。
〃All right。 We can stop anywhere。 It makes little difference now。〃 Kristin looked him squarely in the eye； and added warmly： 〃I love you。〃
It was something they said to each other； in endless variations； a hundred times a day。 Why should the effect； this time； be almost chilling； as if she were telling him goodbye
〃And I love you；〃 he answered softly。
She turned her head away from him； to look toward the inn； and something in her aspect froze。 Mark followed her gaze。 Now they were close enough to the inn for him to see the white ribbon of mourning that was stretched above the door。 And there was another white ribbon； now that he looked for it； wrapped round the arch of the gate leading into the inn's courtyard from the street。
He said to Kristin： 〃Someone in the innkeeper's family。。。〃
She had turned in her saddle again； and was looking wordlessly up and down the street。 Now that they were closer to the other doors and gateways they could see the white bands plainly； everywhere。 In this town the badge of mourning appeared to be universal。
〃What is it； then？〃 The words burst from Kristin in a scream； a sound that Mark had never heard from her before。 He stared at her。 They had stopped； just outside the open gateway of the courtyard of the inn。
In response to the outcry an old woman in an apron； the innkeeper's wife by the look of her； appeared just inside the yard。 In a cracked voice she admonished； 〃Where've you been； young woman； that you don't know。。。〃
At that point the old woman halted suddenly。 Her face paled as she stared at Kristin； and she seemed to stumble； almost going down on one knee。 But Kristin； who had already dismounted； caught her by the arms and held her up。
And shook her； fiercely。 〃Tell me； old one； tell me； who is the mourning for？〃
The eyes of the innkeeper's wife were pale and hopeless。 〃My lady； it's for the Princess。。。 Princess Rimac。。。 has been killed。〃
Again Kristin let out a scream； this one short and wordless。 Mark had heard another woman scream just that way as she fell in battle。 Kristin swayed but she did not fall。
He jumped off his own mount and went to her and held her。 〃What is it？〃
She clung to him as if an ocean wave were tugging at her； sweeping her away： For just a moment her eyes； flashing with mystery and fright； looked directly into his。 〃My sister。。。〃
She tried to add more words to those two。 But Mark heard hardly any of them。 He retreated； one backward step after another in the direction of the inn； until directly behind him there was an old bench； that stood close by the white…ribboned doorway。 He sat down on the bench； in the partial shade of an old tree； leaning his back against the inn's whitewashed wall。 Already half a dozen more townspeople had appeared from somewhere； to make a little knot around Kristin and the old woman in the courtyard； and even as Mark watched another half dozen came running。 They were kneeling to Kristin； seizing her hands and kissing them； calling her Princess。 Someone leaped on the back of a fresh riding beast in the courtyard and went pounding away down the street； hooves echoing for what seemed like a long time on distant cobblestones。
Mark remained sitting where he was； on the shaded bench near the worn doorway； while people rushed in and out ignoring him。 Now and again through the press of bodies his eyes met Kristin's for a moment。 The Sword of Love in its sheath weighed heavily at his side。
Among the other things that people were shouting at her were explanations： how Princess Rimac had ridden out carelessly as was her habit； how there had been a sudden； unexpected attack by one of the Dark King's raiding parties； how now there was going to be war 。。。
The crowd grew rapidly； and Mark's glimpses of Kristin became less frequent。 At one point dozens of eyes suddenly turned his way； and there was a sudden； paratively minor fuss that centered about him … she must have said something that identified him as her rescuer。 People thronged about him。 Men with an attitude between timidity and bravado beat him on the back in congratulation； and tried to press filled beer mugs into his hand。 Women asked him if he were hungry； and would not hear anything he answered them； and brought him cake。 Girls threw their tender arms about his neck and kissed him； more girls and young women kissing him now in a few moments than had even looked at him for a long time。 One girl； pressed against him by the crowd； took his hand and crushed it against her breast。 By now he had lost sight of Kristin entirely； and if it were not for the continuing crowd he would have thought that she had left the courtyard。
There was the sound of many riding beasts out in the street。 Now the crowd； filling the gateway； blocking Mark's view of the street； had a growing new ponent。 Soldiers； uniformed in green and blue。 Mark supposed that the heliograph had been busy。
Someone near him said： 〃General。〃 Mark recognized Rostov at once； having heard him described so often； though he had never seen the man before。
Round one thick arm in its blue…green sleeve； Rostov like the other soldiers was wearing a band of mournin
