ggk.thelionsofal-rassan-第20章

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　　There　ought　to　have　been　little　danger　for　Belmonte　in　leaving　his　home　unguarded。　The　Asharites　had　launched　no　raids　north　for　twenty…five　years；　since　the　last　brief　flourishing　of　the　Khalifate。　The　army　of　King　Bermudo　of　Jalona　had　been　beaten　back　across　the　mountains　by　the　Valledans　three　years　before　and　were　still　licking　their　wounds。　And　no　outlaws；　however　rash　or　desperate；　would　dream　of　provoking　the　ire　of　the　celebrated　Captain　of　Valledo。
　　The　ranch　ought　to　have　been　perfectly　safe　behind　its　wooden　stockade　wall；　even　if　guarded　by　boys　with　unbroken　voices　and　a　cluster　of　ranch　hands　deemed　unworthy　or　too　old　for　a　place　in　the　fighting　pany。　On　the　other　hand；　Rodrigo　Belmonte　ought　not　to　have　ordered　the　death　of　a　cousin　of　the　de　Rada。　He　ought　not　to　have　whipped　the　constable's　brother。　Such　actions　changed　things。
　　When　Garcia　and　his　men　had　finally　stumbled　into　Lobar；　the　first　of　the　forts　in　the　tagra　lands；　he　had　demanded　and　received…though　with　insolent　reluctance…mounts　and　swords　for　all　of　them。　The　sweating　mander　of　the　garrison　had　advanced　some　feeble　excuse　about　being　left　without　sufficient　weapons　or　horses　for　their　own　duties　or　safety；　but　Garcia　had　brooked　none　of　that。　The　constable　of　Valledo；　he'd　said　airily；　would　send　them　swords　and　better　horses　than　the　swaybacked　creatures　they　were　being　given。　He　was　in　no　mood　for　debate　with　a　borderland　soldier。
　　〃That　might　take　a　long　time；〃　the　mander　had　murmured　obstinately。　〃All　the　way　from　Esteren。〃
　　〃Indeed　it　might；〃　Garcia　had　replied　frigidly。　〃And　if　so？〃
　　The　man　had　bitten　his　lip　and　said　nothing　more。　What　could　he　have　said？　He　was　dealing　with　a　de　Rada；　the　brother　of　the　constable　of　the　realm。
　　The　garrison's　doctor；　an　ugly；　raspy…voiced　lout　with　a　disconcerting　boil　on　his　neck；　had　examined　Garcia's　wound　and　whistled　softly。　〃A　whip？〃　he'd　said。　〃You're　a　lucky　man；　my　lord；　or　else　someone　extremely　skillful　was　trying　only　to　mark　you。　It　is　a　clean　cut　and　nowhere　near　your　eye。　Who　did　this？〃　Garcia　had　only　glared；　saying　nothing。　It　was　pointless；　speaking　to　certain　people。
　　The　man　prescribed　an　evil…smelling　salve　that　stung　like　hornets；　but　did　cause　the　swelling　on　Garcia's　face　to　recede　over　the　next　few　days。　It　was　when　he　looked　in　a　reflecting　glass　for　the　first　time　that　Garcia　decided　that　appropriate　vengeance　required　the　death　of　the　Belmonte　children；　as　well。　After　they　had　been　forced　to　watch　him　with　their　mother。
　　It　was　the　fierce　anticipation　of　revenge　that　had　driven　him　on　from　the　tagra　fort；　with　only　a　single　day's　rest。　He　sent　four　men　north　to　Esteren；　to　report　to　his　brother　and　to　lay　formal　plaint　before　the　king。　That　was　important。　If　what　he　purposed　to　do　was　to　have　legal　sanction；　such　a　plaint　had　to　be　lodged　against　Rodrigo。　Garcia　was　going　to　do　this　properly；　and　he　was　going　to　do　it。
　　Two　days　after　his　main　troop　had　parted　from　the　four　messengers　he　remembered　that　he'd　forgotten　to　tell　them　to　have　weapons　and　horses　sent　back　down　for　the　garrison　at　Lobar。　He　briefly　considered　sending　another　pair　of　men　north；　but　remembered　the　mander's　insolence　and　elected　not　to　bother。　There　would　be　time　enough　to　pass　on　that　word　when　he　arrived　in　Esteren　himself。　It　would　do　the　pampered　soldiers　good　to　be　short　of　weapons　and　mounts　for　a　time。　Perhaps　someone　else's　boot　might　split　at　the　heel。
　　Ten　days　later；　in　a　wood　on　the　land　of　Rancho　Belmonte；　rain　was　falling。　Garcia's　stocking　was　sopping　wet　through　his　cracked　boot；　and　so　were　his　hair　and　scratchy　new　beard。　He'd　been　growing　the　beard　since　Orvilla。　He　would　have　to　wear　it　for　the　rest　of　his　life；　he'd　realized　by　now；　that；　or　look　like　a　branded　thief。　Belmonte　had　intended　that；　he　was　certain　of　it。
　　Miranda　Belmonte；　he　remembered；　was　very　beautiful；　all　the　d'Alveda　women　were。　Rodrigo；　that　mon　mercenary；　had　made　a　far　better　marriage　than　he　deserved。　He　was　about　to　have　visited　upon　him　exactly　what　he　did　deserve。
　　Anticipation　made　Garcia's　heart　pound　faster。　Soon；　now。　Boys　and　stable　grooms　were　the　guardians　of　this　ranch。　Rodrigo　Belmonte　was　no　more　than　a　jumped…up　fighting　man　who　had　been　put　back　into　his　proper　place　since　the　ascension　of　King　Ramiro。　He　had　lost　his　rank　of　constable　in　favor　of　Garcia's　brother。　That　had　been　only　the　beginning。　He　would　learn　now　the　cost　of　a　feud　with　the　de　Rada。　He　would　learn　what　happened　when　you　marked　Garcia　de　Rada　as　a　mon　outlaw。　Garcia　touched　his　cheek。　He　was　still　using　the　salve；　as　instructed。　The　smell　was　ferociously　unpleasant；　but　the　swelling　had　subsided　and　the　wound　was　clean。
　　The　trees　were　very　close　together　throughout　the　wood；　but　the　curiously　smooth　path　seemed　to　wind　easily　through　them；　wide　enough　in　places　for　three　men　to　ride　abreast。　They　passed　a　pool　of　water　on　their　right。　In　the　grey　afternoon　the　rain　fell　gently　through　the　leaves；　making　droplets　and　ripples　in　the　still　surface　of　the　water。　It　was　said　to　be　a　holy　place；　for　some　reason。　A　few　men　made　the　god's　sign　of　the　disk　as　they　rode　by。
　　When　the　first　horse　fell　and　lay　screaming　on　the　ground　with　a　broken　leg；　it　seemed　a　malign　accident。　After　two　more　such　accidents；　one　of　which　left　a　rider　with　a　dislocated　shoulder；　such　an　interpretation　became　less　certain。
　　The　path　curved　north　through　the　sodden；　dripping　trees；　and　then；　a　little　further　on；　swung　back　to　the　east　again。　In　the　grey；　pale　distance　Garcia　thought　he　could　see　an　end　to　the　trees。
　　He　felt　himself　falling；　while　still　in　the　saddle。
　　He　had　time　to　throw　a　startled　glance　upwards　and　see　the　bellies　of　the　two　horses　that　had　been　pacing　on　either　side　of　his　a　moment　ago。　Then　his　mount　crashed　into　the　bottom　of　the　pit　that　had　been　concealed　in　the　center　of　the　path　and　Garcia　de　Rada　found　himself　scrambling　about　trying　to　dodge　the　thrashing　hooves　of　a　crippled；　terrified　horse。　One　man；　quicker　than　the　others；　dropped　to　the　ground　and　leaned　over　the　edge　of　the　pit。　He　extended　an　arm；　and　Garcia　grabbed　it　and　hauled　himself　up　and　out。
　　They　looked　down　at　the　flailing　horse　a　moment；　then　an　archer　released　two　arrows　and　the　hooves　stopped。
　　〃This　is　no　natural　path；〃　the　archer　said；　after　a　moment。
　　〃How　very　clever　of　you；〃　said　Garcia。　He　walked　past　the　man；　his　boots　squelching　in　the　mud。
　　A　trip　wire　claimed　two　more　horses　and　cracked　the　skull　of　one　thrown　rider；　and　another　pit　took　down　a　third　stallion　before　they　had　reached　the　eastern　end　of　the　woods。　They　made　it；　though；　and　one　had　to　expect　some　casualties　on　a　raid　of　this　sort。
　　
　　Open　grass　lay　before　them。　In　the　middle　distance　they　could　see　the　wooden　wall　that　surrounded　the　ranch　buildings。　It　was　high　but　not　high　enough；　Garcia　saw。　A　skilled　rider　standing　on　the　back　of　his　mount　could　scale　it；　so　could　a　foot　soldier　boosted　by　another。　Only　with　a　proper　garrison　could　the　ranch　be　defended　from　an　attack　launched　by　petent　men。　As　they　paused　there　at　the　edge　of　the　trees　the　rain　stopped。　Garcia　smiled；　savoring　the　moment。
　　〃How's　that　for　an　omen　from　the　god？〃　he　said　to　no　one　in　particular。
　　He　looked　up　pointedly　at　the　horseman　beside　him。　After　a　moment　the　man　took　his　meaning　and　dismounted。　Garcia　swung　up　on　the　horse。　〃Straight　for　the　ranch；〃　he　ordered。　〃First　man　over　the　wall　has　his　choice　of　the　women。　We'll　get　their　horses　after。　They　owe　us　more　than　horseflesh。〃
　　And　then；　like　the　thundering；　heroic　ancestors　of　his　lineage；　Garcia　de　Rada　drew　his　borrowed　sword；　thrust　it　high　over　his　head；　and　kicked　the　horse　from　Lobar　into　a　gallop。　Behind　him　his　panions　gave　a　shout　and　streamed　out　of　the　woods　into　the　greyness　of　the　afternoon。
　　Six　died　in　the　first　volley　of　arrows；　and　four　in　the　second。　No　arrows　came　anywhere　near　Garcia　himself；　but　by　the　time　he　was　halfway　to　the　walled　enclosure　of　the　ranch　there　were　only　five　riders　behind　him　and　five　others　desperately　running　on　foot　across　the　wet　and　open　grass。
　　Given　such　a　sobering　development　it　began　to　seem　less　and　less　prudent　to　be　galloping　furiously；　well　ahead　of　the　others；　towards　the　pound　walls。　Garcia　slowed　his　horse　and　then；　when　he　saw　one　of　the　running　men　shot　in　the　chest；　he　reined　his　mount　to　a　stop；　too　stupefied　to　give　voice　to　the　rage　in　his　heart。
　　To　his　right；　south；　six　horsemen　now　appeared；　riding　quickly。　He　looked　back　again　and　saw　another　group　rise　up；　like　wraiths；　from　two　depressions　he　had　not　noticed　in　the　level　plain。　These　figures；　armed　with　bows　and　swords；　began　walking　steadily　towards　him；　not　hurrying。　On　the　wall…walk　of　the　ranch　he　saw　a　dozen　or　so　people　appear；　also　armed。
　　It　seemed　a　good　time　to　sheath　his　sword。　The　four　horsemen　left　to　him　hastily　did　the　same。　The　remaining　runners　straggled　up；　one　clutching　an　injured　shoulder。
　　The　bowmen　from　the　hollows　surrounded　them　as　the　six　riders　drew　near；　and　Garcia　saw　then；　with　disgust；　that　they　were　mostly　boys。　It　gave　him　a　flicker　of　hope；　though。
　　〃Dismount；〃　said　a　well…built；　brown…haired　boy。
　　〃Not　until　you　say　why　you　have　just　killed　visitors　without　provocation；〃　Garcia　temporized；　his　voice　stern　and　repressive。　〃What　sort　of　conduct　is　that？〃
　　The　boy　so　addressed　blinked；　as　if　in　surprise。　Then　he　nodded　his　head　briefly。　Three　archers　shot　Garcia's　horse　from　under　him。　Kicking　his　feet　out　of　the　stirrups；　de　Rada　leaped　free　just　in　time　to　avoid　being　crushed　by　the　falling　horse。　He　stumbled　to　one　knee　in　the　wet　grass。
　　〃I　don't　like　having　to　kill　horses；〃　the　boy　said　calmly。　〃But　I　can't　remember　the　last　time　visitors　approached　us　unannounced　at　full　gallop　with　swords　drawn。〃　He　paused；　then　smiled　thinly。　The　smile　was　oddly　familiar。　〃What　sort　of　conduct　is　that？〃
　　Garcia　de　Rada　could　think　of　nothing　to　say。　He　looked　around。　They　had　been　bested　by　children　and　stable　hands　and　it　hadn't　even　been　a　fight。
　　The　boy　who　was　evidently　leader　here　glanced　at　Garcia's　riders。　With　unbeing　celerity　they　threw　down　their　weapons　and　sprang　from　their　mounts。
　　〃Let's　go；〃　said　a　second　boy。
　　Garcia　glanced　over　at　him；　and　then　quickly　back　at　the　first　one。　The　same　face；　exactly。　And　now　he　realized　where　he　had　seen　that　smile　before。
　　〃Are　you　Belmonte's　sons？〃　he　asked；　trying　to　control　his　voice。
　　〃I　wouldn't　bother　with　questions；　were　I　you；〃　said　the　second　boy。　〃I'd　spend　my　time　preparing　answers。　My　mother　will　want　to　speak　with　you。〃
　　Which　was　an　answer　to　his　question；　of　course；　but　Garcia　decided　it　would　be　unwise　to　point　that　out。　Someone　gestured　with　a　sword　and　Garcia　began　walking　towards　the　pound。　As　he　approached　he　realized；　belatedly；　that　the　figures　on　the　wall　holding　bows　and　spears　were　women。　One　of　them；　wearing　a　man's　overtunic　and　breeches；　with　mud　stains　on　her　cheeks　and　forehead；　came　along　the　wall…walk　to　stand　above　them；　looking　down。　She　had　long；　dark　brown　hair　under　a　leather　hat。　She　held　a　bow　with　an　arrow　nocked。
　　〃Fernan；　please　tell　me　who　this　sorry　figure　i