ggk.asongforarbonne-第8章

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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　fell。　He　was　grappling　for　his　sword　when　he　realized　that　it　was　Vanne　who　had　e　up　to　him。　He　tried；　with　minimal　success；　to　turn　the　motion　into　one　of　alertly　prudent　caution。　Vanne；　his　face　blandly　expressionless；　gestured　and　Luth　bent　his　head　towards　him。
　　〃I'm　going　down　to　check　on　them　again；〃　the　other　coran　said；　as　Luth　had　despairingly　known　he　would。　〃Remember；　a　corfe　whistle　if　you　need　me。　I'll　do　the　same。〃　Mutely；　trying　to　keep　his　own　expression　from　shaping　a　forelorn　plea；　Luth　nodded。
　　Moving　easily；　Vanne　negotiated　the　plateau；　grasped　the　rope　and　slipped　over　the　side。　Luth　watched　the　line　jerk　for　a　few　moments　and　then　go　slack　as　Vanne　reached　the　rocks　at　the　bottom。　He　walked　over　to　the　tree　that　Maffour　had　tied　the　rope　to　and　knelt　to　run　a　practised　eye　over　the　knot。　It　was　fine；　Luth　judged；　it　would　continue　to　hold。
　　He　straightened　and　stepped　back。　And　bumped　into　something。
　　His　heart　lurching；　he　spun　around。　As　he　did；　as　he　saw　what　had　e；　all　the　flowing　blood　in　his　veins　seemed　to　dry　up　and　change　to　arid　powder。　He　pursed　his　lips　and　tried　to　whistle。　Like　a　corfe。
　　No　sound　came　out。　His　lips　were　dry；　as　bone；　as　dust；　as　death。　He　opened　his　mouth　to　scream　but　closed　it　silently　and　quite　suddenly　as　a　curved；　jewelled；　inordinately　long　dagger　was　lifted　and　held　to　his　throat。
　　The　figures　on　the　plateau　were　robed　in　silk　and　satin；　dyed　crimson　and　silver；　as　for　a　ceremony。　They　were　mostly　women；　at　least　eight　of　them；　but　there　were　two　men　besides。　It　was　a　woman；　though；　who　held　the　crescent…shaped　blade　to　his　throat。　He　could　tell　from　the　swell　of　her　body　beneath　her　robe；　even　though　she　was　masked。　They　were　all　masked。　And　the　masks；　every　one　of　them；　were　of　predatory　animals　and　birds。　Wolf　and　hunting　cat；　owl　and　hawk；　and　a　silver…feathered　corfe　with　golden　eyes　that　glittered　in　the　moonlight。
　　〃e；〃　said　the　priestess　with　the　blade　to　Luth　of　Castle　Baude；　her　voice　cold　and　remote；　the　voice　of　a　goddess　at　night。　A　goddess　of　the　Hunt；　in　her　violated　sanctuary。　She　wore　a　wolf　mask；　Luth　saw；　and　then　he　also　realized　that　the　ends　of　the　gloves　on　her　hands　were　shaped　like　the　claws　of　a　wolf。　〃Did　you　truly　think　you　would　not　be　found　and　known？〃　she　said。
　　No；　Luth　wanted　frantically　to　say。　No；　I　never　thought　we　could　do　this。　I　was　sure　we　would　be　caught。
　　He　said　nothing。　The　capacity　for　speech　seemed　to　have　left　him；　silence　lying　like　a　weight　of　stones　on　his　chest。　In　terror；　his　brain　going　numb；　Luth　felt　the　blade　caress　his　throat　almost　lovingly。　The　priestess　gestured　with　a　clawed　hand；　in　response；　Luth's　feet；　as　if　of　their　own　will；　led　him　stumbling　into　the　night　forest　of　Rian。　There　were　scented　priestesses　of　the　goddess　all　about　him　as　he　went；　women　masked　like　so　many　creatures　of　prey；　clad　in　soft　robes　of　silver　and　red　amid　the　darkness　of　the　trees；　with　the　pale　moon　lost　to　sight；　like　hope。
　　ing　back　through　the　forest；　Blaise　felt　the　same　rippling　sensation　as　before　through　the　soles　of　his　boots；　as　if　the　earth　here　on　the　island　had　an　actual　pulse；　a　beating　heart。　They　went　faster　now；　having　done　what　they　had　e　to　do；　aware　that　the　priestess　by　the　garden　might　be　missed　and　found　at　any　time。　Blaise　had　dropped　back　to　let　Hirnan；　carrying　the　unconscious　poet；　guide　them　once　more；　with　a　sense　of　direction　seemingly　unerring　in　the　darkness　of　the　woods。
　　They　left　the　forest　path　and　began　to　twist　their　way　north　again　through　the　densely　surrounding　trees；　small　branches　and　leaves　crackling　underfoot　as　they　went。　No　moonlight　fell　here；　but　they　had　their　night　vision　now；　and　they　had　been　this　way　before。　Blaise　recognized　an　ancient；　contorted　oak；　an　anomalous　sight　in　a　strand　of　pine　and　cedar。
　　Shortly　afterwards　they　came　out　of　the　woods　onto　the　plateau。　The　moon　was　high　overhead；　and　Maffour's　rope　was　still　tied　around　the　tree；　their　pathway　down　to　the　sea　and　escape。
　　But　neither　Vanne　nor　Luth　was　anywhere　to　be　seen。
　　His　pulse　prickling　with　a　first　premonitory　sense　of　disaster；　Blaise　strode　quickly　to　the　edge　of　the　plateau　and　looked　down。
　　The　sailboat　was　gone；　and　the　two　bound　clerics　with　it。　Their　own　skiff　was　still　there；　and　Vanne's　body　was　lying　in　it。
　　Beside　Blaise；　Maffour　swore　violently　and　made　his　way　swiftly　down　the　rope。　He　sprang　over　the　boulders　and　into　the　skiff；　bending　quickly　over　the　man　lying　there。
　　He　looked　up。　〃He's　all　right。　Breathing。　Unconscious。　I　can't　see　any　sign　of　a　blow。〃　There　was　wonder　and　the　first　edge　of　real　apprehension　in　his　voice。
　　Blaise　straightened；　looking　around　the　plateau　for　a　sign　of　Luth。　The　other　corans　stood　in　a　tight　cluster　together；　facing　outwards。　They　had　drawn　their　swords。　There　was　no　sound　to　be　heard；　even　the　forest　seemed　to　have　gone　silent；　Blaise　realized；　with　a　tingling　sensation　along　his　skin。
　　He　made　his　decision。
　　〃Hirnan；　get　him　into　the　skiff。　All　of　you　go　down　there。　I　don't　know　what's　happened　but　this　is　no　place　to　linger。　I'm　going　to　take　a　fast　look　around；　but　if　I　can't　see　anything　we'll　have　to　go。〃　He　glanced　quickly　up　at　the　moon；　trying　to　judge　the　hour　of　night。　〃Get　the　skiff　free　and　give　me　a　few　moments　to　look。　If　you　hear　me　do　a　corfe　cry　start　rowing　hard　and　don't　wait。　Otherwise；　use　your　judgment。〃
　　Hirnan　looked　briefly　as　if　he　would　protest　but　said　nothing。　With　Evrard　of　Lussan　slung　over　his　shoulder　like　a　sack　of　grain；　he　made　his　way　to　the　rope　and　down。　The　other　corans　began　following。　Blaise　didn't　wait　to　see　them　all　descend。　With　the　awareness　of　danger　like　a　tangible　presence　within　him；　he　drew　his　sword　and　stepped　alone　into　the　woods　on　the　opposite　side　of　the　plateau　from　where　they'd　entered　and　returned。
　　Almost　immediately　he　picked　up　a　scent。　Not　of　hunting　cat　or　bear；　nor　of　fox　or　badger　or　boar。　What　he　smelled　was　the　drifting　fragrance　of　perfume。　It　was　strongest　to　the　west；　away　from　where　they　had　gone。
　　Blaise　knelt　to　study　the　forest　floor　in　the　near…blackness。　He　wished　Rudel　were　with　him　now；　for　a　great　many　reasons；　but　in　part　because　his　friend　was　the　best　night　tracker　Blaise　had　ever　known。
　　One　didn't　have　to　be　expert；　though；　to　realize　that　a　pany　of　people　had　passed　here　only　a　short　time　before；　and　that　most　if　not　all　of　them　had　been　women。　Blaise　swore　under　his　breath　and　stood　up；　peering　into　the　darkness；　uncertain　of　what　to　do。　He　hated　like　death　to　leave　a　man　behind；　but　it　was　clear　that　a　large　number　of　priests　and　priestesses　were　somewhere　ahead　of　him　in　the　woods。　A　few　moments；　he　had　told　Hirnan。　Could　he　jeopardize　the　others　in　an　attempt　to　find　Luth？
　　Blaise　drew　a　deep　breath；　aware　once　again　now　of　that　pulsing　in　the　forest　floor。　He　knew　he　was　afraid；　only　a　plete　fool　would　not　be　afraid　now。　Even　so；　there　was　a　core　truth　at　the　root　of　all　of　this　for　Blaise　of　Gorhaut；　a　very　simple　one：　one　did　not　leave　a　panion　behind　without　an　atte