ggk.asongforarbonne-第76章

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　regret。　〃Bring　my　lord　Ranald　his　horse；〃　he　called　out　to　the　invisible　corans　beyond　the　end　of　the　bridge。　〃The　most　puissant　duke　of　Garsenc　is　leaving　our　poor　pany　for　the　pleasure　of　his　father's　and　the　high　grace　of　Ademar's　court。〃
　　Blaise　was　still　silent。　Thaune；　behind　him；　could　not　see　his　face。　In　a　way　he　was　glad　of　that。　Even　after　years　in　this　castle　he　found　that　what　lay　between　the　three　men　of　Garsenc…like　a　thicket　of　spear　shafts　in　the　earth；　iron　heads　angled　to　kill…was　too　much　for　him　sometimes。　Tonight；　suddenly；　had　bee　one　of　those　times；　as　if　the　destiny　of　nations　was　bound　up　in　the　darkness　of　this　castle；　a　darkness　that　went　far　deeper　than　the　mist　and　fog　of　a　winter's　night。　They　heard　a　horse　being　led　up　onto　the　bridge。
　　〃Someone　help　the　duke　to　mount；〃　Bertran　said；　with　the　same　grim　courtesy。
　　〃No　need；〃　said　Ranald　shortly；　and　he　mounted　in　one　smooth　motion。　He　curvetted　his　horse　and　looked　down　upon　his　brother。　〃Are　you　expecting　me　to　thank　you　now？〃　he　asked。　Again　there　was　that　note　in　his　voice；　the　one　Thaune　could　not　quite　identify。
　　Blaise　looked　up。　He　shook　his　head。　〃I　thought　you　might　ask　about　your　son　though。〃　A　cruel　question；　though　perhaps　not　cruelly　meant。　Thaune　wasn't　sure；　he　didn't　understand　the　younger　son　either。　He　saw　Ranald's　jaw　tighten。　Blaise　added；　in　a　flat　voice；　〃I　am　proposing　to　name　him　my　heir　in　Gorhaut；　with　Fulk　as　regent；　should　I　die　in　this　war。　Does　that　interest　you　at　all？〃
　　He　had　to　be　quick；　Thaune　thought；　he　had　to　be　very　fast　to　have　thought　of　this　already。　He　turned　to　look　at　Fulk　de　Savaric；　but　there　was　nothing　to　be　read　there　at　all；　nor　in　the　features　of　Bertran　de　Talair　beside　Fulk。　These　were　men　used　to　the　play　of　power；　and　to　hiding　their　responses　to　it。
　　Ranald　de　Garsenc　was　less　able　to　mask　his　feelings。　〃How　touching；〃　he　shot　back；　as　if　firing　a　crossbow　bolt。　〃How　wonderful　to　see　that　everyone　in　my　family　has　plans　for　my　son。　It　does　free　me　of　a　father's　anxiety；　I　must　say。〃
　　Blaise　said；　still　gravely；　〃Given　that　you　haven't　even　cared　to　ask　of　his　condition　or　even　his　name；　it　ill　behooves　you　to　take　such　a　tone；　brother。〃
　　There　was　a　silence。　The　very　calmness　of　the　words　made　the　lash　of　them　bite　harder。　Thaune　felt　that　he　and　the　others　on　the　bridge　had　bee　extraneous；　mere　hangers…on　at　the　edges　of　this　long；　bitter　struggle　within　the　de　Garsenc　family。
　　〃Well？〃　said　Ranald　finally；　as　if　that　one　word　cost　him　a　great　effort。　〃Tell　me。〃
　　From　behind；　Thaune　saw　Blaise　lower　his　head　again　for　a　long　moment；　and　then　lift　it　once　more。　〃He　is　well。　A　handsome；　healthy　child。　He　looks　like　a　Garsenc。　His　name　is　Cadar；　for　his　grandfather　of　Savaric。〃
　　Ranald　laughed　then；　the　same　quick；　bitter；　corrosive　sound　as　before；　when　his　father　had　escaped。　〃Of　course　it　is；〃　he　said。　〃She　would　do　that。〃
　　〃Can　you　blame　her？〃
　　Surprisingly；　Ranald　de　Garsenc's　laughter　ended。　He　shook　his　head。　He　said；　〃You　will　not　believe　me；　but　I　told　father　and　the　king　both　that　I　was　prepared　to　let　her　go　if　she　sent　back　the　child。　Neither　would　agree；　not　that　she　would　have　done　so　in　any　case。〃　He　paused。　〃I　faced　summary　execution　if　I　did　not　ride　with　Ademar　to　Aubry　last　autumn。　Ask　the　duke　of　Savaric；　your　brave　new　ally。　He　was　at　that　burning　too；　for　the　same　reason。〃
　　It　was　Blaise's　turn　to　be　silent。　〃I　know　he　was；〃　he　said　at　length。　〃I　know　why　you　were　there；　Ranald。　But　Fulk　de　Savaric　has　made　his　response　to　that　tonight。　He　is　with　us　now。　You　are　about　to　ride　back　to　Cortil。　To　the　ugliness　there。　I　don't　understand。　I　can't　understand。　Ranald；　will　you　not　tell　me　why？〃　There　was　pain　in　the　question。　Every　man　on　the　bridge　heard　it。
　　Slowly　Ranald　de　Garsenc　shook　his　head　again。　〃No；〃　he　said　finally。　〃I　do　not　owe　you　that　much。〃　He　paused；　seeming　more　posed　than　his　younger　brother　on　the　ground　now。　〃Nor　will　I　thank　you　for　not　torturing　me　to　find　the　location　of　the　tunnel。　I　will　say　this　much…〃　he　turned　to　the　duke　of　Talair；　〃…I　am　not　going　back　to　Cortil。　Forget　not；　in　your　urge　to　mock　and　diminish　your　foes；　who　and　what　it　is　you　are　dealing　with。　I　never　forget　it；　not　ever；　during　any　day　or　night　of　my　life。〃
　　He　turned　back　to　his　brother。　〃Farewell；　little　Blaise；　who　would　be　king　of　all　of　us。　I　can　recall　teaching　you　to　use　that　sword　you　carry。　I　wonder　if　you　remember？〃
　　He　turned　then；　and　was　gone　into　night　and　fog；　only　the　drumming　of　his　horse's　hooves　in　the　mist　telling　them　he　was　riding　east。
　　〃Of　course　I　remember；〃　said　Blaise；　to　no　one　in　particular。
　　He　turned　then　and　began　walking　up　the　bridge　towards　the　castle；　past　the　two　dukes　and　all　the　corans；　who　quickly　made　way　for　him。　He　stood　motionless　before　the　portcullis　bars　until　they　had　been　rolled　up　again；　allowing　him　to　pass　within；　into　his　ancestral　home。
　　
　　Feeling　buffeted　by　the　speed　of　events；　Thaune　of　Garsenc　was　more　than　a　little　eased　to　note　heightened　colour　and　hints　of　bemusement　in　the　expressions　of　others　when　they　gathered　in　the　great　hall。
　　There　had　been　no　resistance　in　the　end。　The　announced　arrival　of　Blaise　de　Garsenc；　coupled　with　the　even　more　tangible　presence　of　nearly　a　thousand　armed　men　with　the　duke　of　Savaric；　induced　any　corans　of　Garsenc　who　might　have　been　otherwise　inclined　to　make　their　peace　with　the　current　situation。
　　That　wasn't　the　problem。　The　problem　emerged　when　the　explanations　began；　while　the　castle　servants　scurried　to　provide　wine　and　food　and　sleeping　arrangements；　not　only　for　those　in　the　hall　but　for　the　northern　soldiers；　and　for　the　farmers　who　had　also　e　with　Fulk；　carrying　a　variety　of　arms。
　　It　was　the　presence　of　the　farmers　Fulk　had　been　ordered　to　bring　that　raised　the　issue。　It　was　winter；　after　all。　Corans　often　followed　their　lord　wherever　he　went；　and　it　was　not　unusual　for　a　duke　to　bring　part　of　his　household　with　him　if　he　travelled　to　Cortil　to　spend　the　cold　months　drinking　and　brawling　among　the　retinue　of　the　king。　It　was　a　custom　of　long　standing。　That；　they　had　assumed；　was　why　Garsenc　Castle　was　unlikely　be　heavily　defended。　But　if　the　ordinary　men　of　the　land　were　being　ordered　by　Ademar　to　take　up　arms　in　the　dead　of　winter　something　else　was　afoot。
　　Fulk　de　Savaric　knew　that。　He　didn't　know　what　was　unfolding；　though；　because　he　hadn't　yet　reached　Cortil　when　his　instructions　had　been　changed。　His　tale　was　simple。　He　had　been　instructed　to　bring　as　many　men　south　as　he　could。　Given　the　mood　of　the　king　since　autumn；　Fulk　had　not　regarded　these　orders　as　being　the　sort　he　could　fortably　ignore。　They　were　mobilizing　early　for　an　attack　in　the　spring；　he　had　concluded；　it　had　always　been　the　most　likely　course　of　events。
　　Halfway　to　Cortil　he　had　been　met　by　a　messenger　from　the　High　Elder；　changing　his　orders；　instructing　him　to　turn　west　to　Garsenc　Castle；　and　meet　Galbert　there。　There　was　a　threat　from　the　south；　the　messenger　reported；　treachery　abroad　in　the　wintry　heartland　of　Gorhaut。　Fulk　knew；　as　most　of　Gorhaut　had　known　by　then；　that　Blaise　de　Garsenc　had　claimed　the　throne　last　autumn。
　　Duke　Fulk　was　his　own　man；　if　he　lacked　his　father's　flamboyance　or　the　confidence　of　the　monarch　that　Cadar　de　Savaric　had　had。　He'd　turned　his　thousand　men　as　ordered；　riding　along　a　valley　path　laced　with　snow；　but　he　had　stopped　them　by　a　frozen　river　bed　two　days　later；　a　half　day's　ride　still　from　Garsenc　Castle。　And　there；　under　grey　skies；　he　had　made　a　speech。
　　He　was　not　a　man　for　speeches；　nor　were　the　men　of　the　north　greatly　inclined　to　listen　to　orations；　especially　in　the　cold。　What　he　said　was　as　terse　and　clear　as　he　could　make　it；　and　the　words　marked　a　changing　of　his　life。　He　would　have　denied　that　Aubry　had　led　him　to　that　moment；　but　he　wouldn't　have　said　it　had　nothing　to　do　with　it；　either。
　　He　had　never　liked　the　Treaty　of　Iersen　Bridge；　he　told　his　assembled　men；　shouting　the　words　into　the　rising　wind。　He　had　never　liked　the　authority　the　High　Elder　of　Corannos　had　over　an　increasingly　self…indulgent　king。　He　felt　contempt　and　real　anger　for　the　way　in　which　a　quarter　of　the　people　of　Gorhaut　had　been　dispossessed　of　their　land　and　ordered　to　find　shelter　somewhere；　anywhere；　while　the　king　and　his　High　Elder　plotted　a　conquest　in　the　south。　Fulk　de　Savaric　did　not　think　they　could　hold　any　lands　they　took　south　of　the　passes；　they　wouldn't　be　allowed　to；　he　said；　by　the　other　countries　of　their　world。　The　balance　would　be　too　greatly　shifted。　They　would　only　trade　a　border　war　with　Valensa　for　an　enormous　bat　against　all　the　other　nations；　and　the　Arbonnais；　he　said；　would　die　before　they　lay　quiet　under　a　Gorhaut　yoke　of　occupation。　They　would　be　forced　out　of　Arbonne；　he　told　his　men；　leaving　ruin　and　ashes　and　legions　of　the　dead　behind　them。
　　That；　said　Fulk；　probably　didn't　even　matter　to　the　High　Elder；　whose　war　this　was。　The　real　point　of　what　was　happening　now　had　little　to　do　with　land　for　the　dispossessed　of　the　north。　Galbert　wanted　only　to　destroy　Arbonne　and　its　goddess；　and　the　Treaty　of　Iersen　Bridge　had　been　the　first　devious　step　towards　that。　Fulk　de　Savaric　didn't　much　care　either　way　about　Arbonne's　goddess；　she　had　never　bothered　him；　he　said　by　that　frozen　river。　What　did　bother　him；　what　enraged　him；　he　said；　were　the　uprooted　people　of　the　northlands。　Their　king　had　sold　them　to　Valensa　for　silver　and　gold；　to　raise　an　army　for　burning　women　in　Arbonne。
　　There　were　others；　he　told　his　silent　pany；　who　felt　the　same　way　as　he。　Blaise　de　Garsenc；　the　younger　son　of　the　High　Elder　was　probably　known　to　many　of　them。　He　wasn't　even　a　northlander；　but　he　had　left　Gorhaut　entirely　rather　than　live　with　the　terms　of　the　Treaty　of　Iersen　Bridge。　He　was　very　likely　ing　home　now；　perhaps　even　tonight；　leading　a　rising　against　these　very　wrongs　Fulk　was　speaking　of。　The　duke　proposed　to　join　him；　for　the　honour　of　the　northland　and　in　memory　of　his　father　and　King　Duergar　who　had　truly　loved　and　served　Gorhaut。　He　invited　those　of　his　army　who　thought　the　same　thing　and　who　trusted　his　judgment　to　e　with　him。　Those　who　felt　otherwise　were　free　to　leave；　with　his　honest　gratitude　for　their　service　in　the　past。
　　That　was　all　he　said。　Wind　blew　down　the　valley；　sliding　snow　into　mounds　on　the　banks　of　the　frozen　river；　shaking　it　down　from　the　branches　of　bare　trees。
　　Eighteen　men　left；　from　a　pany　of　almost　a　thousand。
　　The　men　of　the　northland　had　their　own　hard　creed；　always；　and　the　lords　of　Savaric　had　seldom　played　them　false；　whatever　the　kings　in　Cortil　might　have　done。　Duke　Cadar　de　Savaric　had　died　defending　their　lands　and　his　own　at　Iersen　Bridge。　His　son　had　shepherded　the　interests　of　the　north　with　a　cautious　diligence　in　the　upheavals　that　followed　King　Ademar's　accession　and　the　treaty　he　had　signed。　If　the　time　for　caution　now　had　ended；　the　time　for　loyalty　had　not；　and　loyalty　to　the　north　was　the　first　law　of　the　north。
　　Not　a　man　prone　to　the　sweep　of　powerful　emotions；　Fulk　de　Savaric　had　nonetheless　been　moved　by　what　had　followed　his　words　on　that　wintry　afternoon。　He　was　speaking　treason；　af