ggk.thelionsofal-rassan-第47章

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o　their　ranks；　greeted　with　glad；　fierce　cries；　and　he　turned；　snarling；　to　fight　again。
　　Surrender？　To　these？　To　be　ransomed　by　the　king　from　Asharite　bandits；　with　the　parias　lost？　There　were　worse　things　than　dying；　far　worse　things。
　　
　　This　is　not　war　as　I　dreamed　it；　Alvar　was　thinking。
　　He　was　remembering　the　farm；　childhood；　an　eager　boy；　a　soldier's　only　son；　with　a　wooden　sword　always　by　his　bed　at　night。　Images　of　glory　and　heroism　dancing　beyond　the　window　in　the　starry　dark　after　the　candles　had　been　blown　out。　A　long　time　ago。
　　They　were　waiting　in　pale　cold　sunlight　at　the　north　end　of　the　valley。
　　Kill　anyone　who　es　out；　Lain　Nunez　had　said。　Only　two　men　had。　They　had　been　battling　each　other；　grappled　together；　grunting　and　snorting　like　animals。　Their　bat　had　carried　them　right　out　of　the　defile；　tumbling　and　rolling；　fingers　clawing　at　each　other's　eyes。　Ludus　and　Martin；　efficient　and　precise；　had　moved　their　horses　over　and　dispatched　both　men　with　arrows。　The　two　bodies　lay　now；　still　intertwined；　on　the　frosted　grass。
　　There　was　nothing　remotely　heroic　or　even　particularly　dangerous　about　what　they　were　doing。　Even　the　night　sweep　into　the　burning　hamlet　of　Orvilla　last　summer　had　had　more　intensity；　more　of　a　sense　of　real　warfare；　than　this　edgy　waiting　while　other　men　killed　each　other　out　of　sight　in　the　dark　space　north　of　them。　Alvar　glanced　over　his　shoulder　at　a　sound　and　saw　the　Captain　riding　up；　with　Jehane　and　ibn　Khairan。　Jehane　looked　anxious；　he　thought。　The　two　men　appeared　calm；　unconcerned。　Neither　spared　a　glance　for　the　two　dead　men　on　the　grass。　They　cantered　their　horses　up　to　Lain　Nunez。
　　〃It　goes　well？〃　Rodrigo　asked。
　　Lain；　predictably；　spat　before　answering。　〃They　are　killing　each　other　for　us；　if　that　is　what　you　mean。〃
　　Ammar　ibn　Khairan　grinned　at　the　tone。　Rodrigo　offered　a　level　glance　at　his　second…in…mand。　〃You　know　what　this　is　about。　We've　had　our　real　battles　and　we'll　have　them　again。　We're　trying　to　achieve　something　here。〃
　　Lain　opened　his　mouth　to　reply；　then　shut　it　firmly。　The　expression　in　the　Captain's　face　was　not　conducive　to　argument。
　　Rodrigo　turned　to　Martin。　〃Take　a　quick　look。　I　need　the　numbers　in　there。　We　don't　want　the　Jalonans　to　win；　of　course。　If　they　are；　we'll　have　to　move　in；　after　all。〃
　　Alvar；　vainly　trying　to　follow；　was　made　edgy　again　by　his　ignorance。　Lain　might　know　what　was　going　on；　but　no　one　else　did。　Was　it　always　this　way　in　war？　Didn't　you　usually　know　that　your　enemy　was　ahead　of　you　and　your　task　was　to　be　braver　and　stronger？　To　kill　before　you　were　killed？　He'd　a　feeling　Lain　felt　the　same　way。
　　〃He's　already　been　in　there；〃　Lain　said　sourly。　〃I　do　know　what　I'm　doing。　It　is　balanced；　about　thirty　of　each　left。　The　outlaws　will　break　soon。〃
　　〃Then　we　have　to　go　in。〃
　　It　was　ibn　Khairan　who　spoke；　looking　at　Rodrigo。　〃The　Jalonans　are　good。　You　said　they　would　be。〃　He　glanced　at　Lain。　〃You　get　your　battle；　after　all。〃
　　Jehane；　beside　him；　still　looked　worried。　It　was　difficult　to　relate　her　expression　to　the　intoxicated　words　Alvar　had　heard　her　crying　from　among　the　trees。
　　〃Your　orders；　Captain？〃　Lain　was　staring　at　Rodrigo。　His　tone　was　formal。
　　For　the　first　time　Rodrigo　Belmonte　looked　unhappy；　as　if　he'd　rather　have　heard　different　tidings　from　the　defile。　He　shrugged　his　shoulders；　though；　and　drew　his　sword。
　　〃Not　much　choice；　though　this　won't　be　pretty。　We've　wasted　our　time　if　Di　Carrera　fights　free　or　the　outlaws　break。〃
　　He　lifted　his　voice　then；　so　fifty　men　could　hear　him。　〃We're　going　in。　Our　task　is　exact：　we　are　joining　the　bandits。　Not　a　man　of　the　Jalonans　leaves　that　defile。　No　ransom。　Once　they　see　us　and　know　we　are　here　we　have　no　choice　about　that。　If　even　one　of　them　makes　it　back　to　Eschalou　and　reports　our　presence　this　has　all　been　for　nothing　and　worse　than　that。　If　it　helps　at　all；　remember　what　they　did　at　Cabriz　in　the　War　of　Three　Kings。〃
　　Alvar　did　remember　that。　Everyone　in　Valledo　did。　He　had　been　a　bewildered　child；　watching　his　father　weep　when　tidings　came　to　the　farm。　King　Bermudo　had　besieged　the　city　of　Cabriz；　promised　amnesty　on　surrender；　then　slaughtered　every　Valledan　fighting　man　when　they　rode　out　under　the　banner　of　truce。　The　Asharites　were　not　the　only　ones　with　a　grasp　of　savagery。
　　Even　so；　this　was　still　not　war　as　he　had　imagined　it。　Alvar　looked　towards　Jehane　again。　She　had　turned　away。　In　horror；　he　thought　at　first；　then　saw　that　she　was　gesturing　to　someone　near　the　back　of　their　ranks。　Velaz　came　forward；　calm　and　brisk　as　ever；　with　her　doctor's　implements。　Alvar　felt　ashamed：　she　wasn't　reacting　emotionally；　as　a　woman；　she　was　simply　readying　herself；　physician　of　a　pany　about　to　go　into　battle。　He　had　no　business　doing　less　than　the　same。　No　one　had　ever　said　a　soldier's　life　was　designed　to　give　fulfillment　to　a　child's　dreams。
　　Alvar　drew　his　sword；　saw　others　doing　the　same。　A　few　shaped　the　sign　of　the　sun　disk　as　they　did；　whispering　the　words　of　the　soldier's　invocation：　Jad　send　us　Light；　and　let　there　be　Light　waiting　for　us。　The　archers　fitted　arrows　to　strings。　They　waited。　Rodrigo　looked　back　at　them；　nodded　his　approval。　Then　he　lifted　and　dropped　his　hand。　They　rode　out　of　the　sun　into　the　defile　where　men　were　killing　each　other　in　the　cold。
　　Nino　di　Carrera　knew　that　he　was　winning。　There　came　a　moment　in　every　battle　when　one　could　sense　the　rhythm　changing　and　he　had　felt　it　now。　The　outlaws　had　needed　to　defeat　them　quickly；　with　the　chaos　of　the　spear　pit　and　the　shock　of　their　archers'　ambush。　Once　those　had　been　survived…if　barely…this　became　a　clash　of　roughly　even　forces　and　could　have　only　one　result。　It　was　only　a　question　of　time　before　the　Asharites　broke　and　fled；　he　was　mildly　surprised　they　hadn't　done　so　by　now。　Even　as　he　fought；　shoulder　to　shoulder　with　his　men　in　the　ring　around　the　gold；　Nino　was　beginning　to　calculate　his　next　course　of　action。
　　It　would　be　pleasant　to　pursue　this　rabble　when　they　ran；　exceedingly　pleasant　to　bur　them　alive　for　the　deaths　of　so　many　men　and　so　many　purebred　horses。　There　was　the　woman；　too；　if　she　could　still　be　found　on　the　slopes。　A　burning　would　go　a　long　way　towards　addressing　the　grievances　of　this　morning。
　　On　the　other　hand；　he　was　likely　to　emerge　from　this　evil　place　with　no　more　than　twenty　men　and　a　long　way　yet　to　travel　through　hostile　country　with　the　gold　of　Jalona's　future。　He　simply　could　not　afford　to　lose　any　more　soldiers　after　this。　They　were　going　to　have　to　travel　at　speed；　Nino　realized；　no　rest　except　what　was　utterly　necessary；　riding　by　night　as　well。　They　could　travel　with　two　horses；　at　least；　for　each　man　left；　which　would　spare　the　beasts；　if　not　the　riders。
　　That　would　be　the　only　course　until　they　reached　the　tagra　lands　where　he　might　assume　there　would　be　no　forces　large　enough　to　trouble　twenty　mounted　men。　There　will　be　time　for　revenge；　he　told　himself；　battling。　There　will　be　years　and　years　for　the　taking　of　revenge。　Nino　might　be　young；　but　he　knew　exactly　what　this　first　installment　of　the　parias　meant。　Almost　contemptuously　he　blocked　an　outlaw's　slash　and　drove　the　man　staggering　back　with　a　counterblow。
　　It　was　all　beginning　here；　with　him　and　this　small　pany。　The　men　of　Jalona　would　be　ing　back　south　once　more；　again　and　again。　The　long　tide　of　centuries　was　turning；　and　it　was　going　to　sweep　all　the　way　through　Al…Rassan　to　the　southern　straits。
　　First；　though；　there　was　this　matter　of　bandits　in　a　defile。　They　ought　to　have　broken　by　now；　Nino　thought　again。　Grimly　he　hacked　and　chopped；　with　more　space　to　move　now；　and　even；　at　moments；　room　to　advance　a　few　paces。　They　were　brave　enough；　these　outlaws　from　the　south；　but　Jaddite　iron　and　Jaddite　courage　were　going　to　prevail。
　　Someone　fell　with　a　grunt　beside　him；　Nino　pivoted　and　thrust　his　sword　deep　into　the　guts　of　the　man　who　had　just　killed　one　of　his　soldiers。　The　bandit　shrieked；　his　eyes　bulged。　Nino　twisted　his　blade　deliberately　before　hauling　it　free。　The　fellow's　hands　clutched　at　his　oozing；　slippery　intestines；　trying　to　keep　them　from　spilling　out。
　　Nino　was　laughing　at　that；　as　it　happened；　when　the　fifty　new　riders　swept　into　the　defile。
　　They　were　Jaddites；　he　saw　that　much　in　the　first　astonished　glance。　Then　he　saw…and　tried　desperately　to　understand…that　their　mounts　were　small；　nondescript　horses　of　Al…Rassan。　Then　he　realized；　with　a　cold　pressing　of　blackness　against　his　heart；　that　they　had　e　not　to　aid　him　but　to　kill。
　　It　was　in　that　frozen　moment　of　revelation　that　Nino　recognized　the　first　of　these　riders　by　the　image　of　an　eagle　on　the　crown　of　his　old…fashioned　helmet。
　　He　knew　that　emblem。　Every　fighting　man　in　Esperana　knew　of　that　helmet　and　the　man　who　wore　it。　There　was　a　paralyzing　weight　of　disbelief　in　Nino's　mind。　He　experienced　an　appalling　sense　of　the　unfairness　of　things。　He　raised　his　sword　as　the　eagle…helmed　horseman　came　straight　towards　him。　Nino　feinted；　then　swung　savagely　for　the　man's　ribs。　His　blow　was　parried；　casually；　and　then；　before　he　could　right　himself；　Nino　saw　a　long；　bright；　final　blade　e　scything　and　he　left　the　world　of　living　men　and　fell　down　into　the　dark。
　　
　　Idar；　fighting　beside　his　father；　had　been　struggling　to　summon　the　courage　to　suggest　retreat。
　　It　had　never　happened　before　that　his　father　had　persisted　this　long　with　what　was　clearly　a　failed　assault。　They　had　established　their　name；　their　fortune；　their　castle　at　Arbastro；　by　knowing　when　to　engage　and　when…as　now；　surely！…to　withdraw　and　fight　another　time。
　　It　was　his　brother's　wound；　Idar　knew；　laboring　with　his　sword　in　the　trammeling　press。　Abir　was　dying　on　the　hard　ground　behind　them　and　their　father　was　out　of　his　head　with　grief。　One　of　their　men　was　beside　Abir　on　his　knees；　cradling　his　head；　two　others　stood　by；　to　defend　him　should　any　of　the　accursed　Jaddites　break　free　of　their　tight　circle。
　　Their　father　was　a　wild；　terrifying　figure　beside　Idar；　frenzied　in　his　attacks　on　the　ring　of　their　enemies；　oblivious　to　circumstance　and　need；　to　the　devastating　fact　that　more　than　half　their　number　were　dead。　There　were　barely　thirty　men　doing　battle　now　with　almost　as　many　of　the　dung…eating　Horsemen。　Their　weapons　and　armor　were　less　good；　their　style　of　bat　was　not　and　never　had　been　this　kind　of　savage　face…to…face　confrontation。
　　The　ambush　had　almost　succeeded　but　it　had　not　quite　been　enough。　It　was　time　to　break　free；　to　run　south；　to　accept　that　a　huge　risk　had　nearly　worked；　but　had　not。　They　had　a　desperately　long　way　to　go　to　get　home　to　Arbastro；　on　evil　winter　paths；　through　mud　and　rain；　and　with　the　wounded　to　slow　them。　It　was　past　time　to　pull　out　while　they　could；　while　yet　some　of　them　lived。
　　As　if　to　mark　the　truth　of　his　thought；　Idar　was　forced　in　that　moment　to　duck　swiftly　down　and　to　one　side　as　a　burly　Jaddite　with　a　studded　mace　stepped　forward　and　hammered　a　sideswung　blow　at　his　face。　The　Jaddite　was　armored　from　head　to　calves；　Idar　wore　a　leather　helm　and　a　light　chain　breastpiece。　What　were　they　doing　fighting　face　to　face？
　　Twisting　under　the　lethal　mace；　Idar　chopped　shar