uleg.thefarthestshore-第7章

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　　Hort　Town；　one　of　the　Seven　Great　Ports　of　the　Archipelago；　rose　from　its　noisy　waterfront　up　the　slopes　of　three　steep　hills　in　a　jumble　of　color。　The　houses　were　of　clay　plastered　in　red；　orange；　yellow；　and　white；　the　roofs　were　of　purplish…red　tile；　pendick…trees　in　flower　made　masses　of　dark　red　along　the　upper　streets。　Gaudy；　striped　awnings　stretched　from　roof　to　roof；　shading　narrow　marketplaces。　The　quays　were　bright　with　sunlight；　the　streets　running　back　from　the　waterfront　were　like　dark　slots　full　of　shadows　and　people　and　noise。
　　When　they　had　tied　up　the　boat；　Sparrowhawk　stooped　over　beside　Arren　as　if　to　check　the　knot；　and　he　said；　〃Arren；　there　are　people　in　Wathort　who　know　me　pretty　well；　so　watch　me；　that　you　may　know　me。〃　When　he　straightened　up　there　was　no　scar　on　his　face。　His　hair　was　quite　grey；　his　nose　was　thick　and　somewhat　snubbed；　and　instead　of　a　yewstaff　his　own　height；　he　carried　a　wand　of　ivory；　which　he　tucked　away　inside　his　shirt。　〃Dost　know　me？〃　he　said　to　Arren　with　a　broad　smile；　and　he　spoke　with　the　accent　of　Enlad。　〃Hast　never　seen　thy　nuncle　before　this？〃
　　Arren　had　seen　wizards　at　the　court　of　Berila　change　their　faces　when　they　mimed　the　Deed　of　Morred；　and　knew　it　was　only　illusion；　he　kept　his　wits　about　him；　and　was　able　to　say；　〃Oh　aye；　nuncle　Hawk！〃
　　But；　while　the　mage　dickered　with　a　harbor　guardsman　over　the　fee　for　docking　and　guarding　the　boat；　Arren　kept　looking　at　him　to　make　sure　that　he　did　know　him。　And　as　he　looked；　the　transformation　troubled　him　more；　not　less。　It　was　too　plete；　this　was　not　the　Archmage　at　all；　this　was　no　wise　guide　and　leader。。。　The　guardsman's　fee　was　high；　and　Sparrowhawk　grumbled　as　he　paid；　and　strode　away　with　Arren；　still　grumbling。　〃A　test　of　my　patience；〃　he　said。　〃Pay　that　swag…bellied　thief　to　guard　my　boat！　When　half　a　spell　would　do　twice　the　job！　Well；　this　is　the　price　of　disguise。。。　And　I've　forgot　my　proper　speech；　have　I　not；　nevvy？〃
　　They　were　walking　up　a　crowded；　smelly；　gaudy　street　lined　with　shops；　little　more　than　booths；　whose　owners　stood　in　the　doorways　among　heaps　and　festoons　of　wares；　loudly　proclaiming　the　beauty　and　cheapness　of　their　pots；　hosiery；　hats；　spades；　pins；　purses；　kettles；　baskets；　firehooks；　knives；　ropes；　bolts；　bed…linens；　and　every　other　kind　of　hardware　and　drygoods。
　　〃Is　it　a　fair？〃
　　〃Eh？〃　said　the　snub…nosed　man；　bending　his　grizzled　head。
　　〃Is　it　a　fair；　nuncle？〃
　　〃Fair？　No；　no。　They　keep　it　up　all　year　round；　here。　Keep　your　fishcakes；　mistress；　I　have　breakfasted！〃　And　Arren　tried　to　shake　off　a　man　with　a　tray　of　little　brass　vases；　who　followed　at　his　heels　whining；　〃Buy；　try；　handsome　young　master；　they　won't　fail　you；　breath　as　sweet　as　the　roses　of　Numima；　charming　the　women　to　you；　try　them；　young　sealord；　young　prince。。。〃
　　All　at　once　Sparrowhawk　was　between　Arren　and　the　peddler；　saying；　〃What　charms　are　these？〃
　　〃Not　charms！〃　the　man　whined；　shrinking　away　from　him。　〃I　sell　no　charms；　sea…master！　Only　syrups　to　sweeten　the　breath　after　drink　or　hazia…root　…　only　syrups；　great　prince！〃　He　cowered　right　down　onto　the　pavement　stones；　his　tray　of　vases　clinking　and　clattering；　some　of　them　tipping　so　that　a　drop　of　the　sticky　stuff　inside　oozed　out；　pink　or　purple；　over　the　lip。
　　Sparrowhawk　turned　away　without　speaking　and　went　on　with　Arren。　Soon　the　crowds　thinned　and　the　shops　grew　wretchedly　poor；　little　kennels　displaying　as　all　their　wares　a　handful　of　bent　nails；　a　broken　pestle；　and　an　old　cardingb。　This　poverty　disgusted　Arren　less　than　the　rest；　in　the　rich　end　of　the　street　he　had　felt　choked；　suffocated；　by　the　pressure　of　things　to　be　sold　and　voices　screaming　to　him　to　buy；　buy。　And　the　peddler's　abjectness　had　shocked　him。　He　thought　of　the　cool；　bright　streets　of　his　Northern　town。　No　man　in　Berila；　he　thought；　would　have　grovelled　to　a　stranger　like　that。　〃These　are　a　foul　folk！〃　he　said。
　　〃This　way；　nevvy；〃　was　all　his　panion's　answer。　They　turned　aside　into　a　passage　between　high；　red；　windowless　house　walls；　which　ran　along　the　hillside　and　through　an　archway　garlanded　with　decaying　banners；　out　again　into　the　sunlight　in　a　steep　square；　another　marketplace；　crowded　with　booths　and　stalls　and　swarming　with　people　and　flies。
　　Around　the　edges　of　the　square；　a　number　of　men　and　women　were　sitting　or　lying　on　their　backs；　motionless。　Their　mouths　had　a　curious　blackish　look；　as　if　they　had　been　bruised；　and　around　their　lips　flies　swarmed　and　gathered　in　clusters　like　bunches　of　dried　currants。
　　〃So　many；〃　said　Sparrowhawk's　voice；　low　and　hasty　as　if　he　too　had　gotten　a　shock；　but　when　Arren　looked　at　him　there　was　the　blunt；　bland　face　of　the　hearty　trader　Hawk；　showing　no　concern。
　　〃What's　wrong　with　those　people？〃
　　〃Hazia。　It　soothes　and　numbs；　letting　the　body　be　free　of　the　mind。　And　the　mind　roams　free。　But　when　it　returns　to　the　body　it　needs　more　hazia。。。　And　the　craving　grows　and　the　life　is　short；　for　the　stuff　is　poison。　First　there　is　a　trembling；　and　later　paralysis；　and　then　death。〃
　　Arren　looked　at　a　woman　sitting　with　her　back　to　a　sunwarmed　wall；　she　had　raised　her　hand　as　if　to　brush　away　the　flies　from　her　face；　but　the　hand　made　a　jerky；　circular　motion　in　the　air；　as　if　she　had　quite　forgotten　about　it　and　it　was　moved　only　by　the　repeated　surging　of　a　palsy　or　shaking　in　the　muscles。　The　gesture　was　like　an　incantation　emptied　of　all　intention；　a　spell　without　meaning。
　　Hawk　was　looking　at　her　too；　expressionless。　〃e　on！〃　he　said。
　　He　led　on　across　the　marketplace　to　an　awning…shaded　booth。　Stripes　of　sunlight　colored　green；　orange；　lemon；　crimson；　azure；　fell　across　the　cloths　and　shawls　and　woven　belts　displayed；　and　danced　multitudinous　in　the　tiny　mirrors　that　bedecked　the　high；　feathered　headdress　of　the　woman　who　sold　the　stuff。　She　was　big　and　she　chanted　in　a　big　voice；　〃Silks；　satins；　canvases；　furs；　felts；　woollens；　fleecefells　of　Gont；　gauzes　of　Sowl；　silks　of　Lorbanery！　Hey；　you　Northern　men；　take　off　your　duffle…coats；　don't　you　see　the　sun's　out？　How's　this　to　take　home　to　a　girl　in　far　Havnor？　Look　at　it；　silk　of　the　South；　fine　as　the　mayfly's　wing！〃　She　had　flipped　open　with　deft　hands　a　bolt　of　gauzy　silk；　pink　shot　with　threads　of　silver。
　　〃Nay；　mistress；　we're　not　wed　to　queens；〃　said　Hawk；　and　the　woman's　voice　rose　to　a　blare：　〃So　what　do　you　dress　your　womenfolk　in；　burlap？　sailcloth？　Misers　that　won't　buy　a　bit　of　silk　for　a　poor　woman　freezing　in　the　everlasting　Northern　snow！　How's　this　then；　a　Gontish　fleecefell；　to　help　you　keep　her　warm　on　winter　nights！〃　She　flung　out　over　the　counterboard　a　great　cream　and　brown　square；　woven　of　the　silky　hair　of　the　goats　of　the　northeastern　isles。　The　pretended　trader　put　out　his　hand　and　felt　it；　and　he　smiled。
　　〃Aye；　you're　a　Gontishman？〃　said　the　blaring　voice；　and　the　headdress　nodding　sent　a　thousand　colored　dots　spinning　over　the　canopy　and　the　cloth。
　　〃This　is　Andradean　work；　see？　There's　but　four　warpstrings　to　the　finger's　width。　Gont　uses　six　or　more。　But　tell　me　why　you've　turned　from　working　magic　to　selling　fripperies。　When　I　was　here　years　since；　I　saw　you　pulling　flames　out　of　men's　ears；　and　then　you　made　the　flames　turn　into　birds　and　golden　bells；　and　that　was　a　finer　trade　than　this　one。〃
　　〃It　was　no　trade　at　all；〃　the　big　woman　said；　and　for　a　moment　Arren　was　aware　of　her　eyes；　hard　and　steady　as　agates；　looking　at　him　and　Hawk　from　out　of　the　glitter　and　restlessness　of　her　nodding　feathers　and　flashing　mirrors。
　　〃It　was　pretty；　that　pulling　fire　out　of　ears；〃　said　Hawk　in　a　dour　but　simple…minded　tone。　〃I　thought　to　show　it　to　my　nevvy。〃
　　〃Well　now；　look　you；〃　said　the　woman　less　harshly；　leaning　her　broad；　brown　arms　and　heavy　bosom　on　the　counter。　〃We　don't　do　those　tricks　any　more。　People　don't　want　'em。　They've　seen　through　'em。　These　mirrors　now；　I　see　you　remember　my　mirrors；〃　and　she　tossed　her　head　so　that　the　reflected　dots　of　colored　light　whirled　dizzily　about　them。　〃Well；　you　can　puzzle　a　man's　mind　with　the　flashing　of　the　Mirrors　and　with　words　and　with　other　tricks　I　won't　tell　you；　till　he　thinks　he　sees　what　he　don't　see；　what　isn't　there。　Like　the　flames　and　golden　bells；　or　the　S't　of　clothes　I　used　to　deck　sailormen　in；　cloth　of
　In　s　gold　with　diamonds　like　apricots；　and　off　they'd　swagger　like　the　King　of　All　the　Isles　。。。。　But　it　was　tricks；　fooleries。　You　can　fool　men。　They're　like　chickens　charmed　by　a　snake；　by　a　finger　held　before　'em。　Men　are　like　chickens。　But　then　in　the　end　they　know　they've　been　fooled　and　fuddled　and　they　get　angry　and　lose　their　pleasure　in　such　things。　So　I　turned　to　this　trade；　and　maybe　all　the　silks　aren't　silks　nor　all　the　fleeces　Gontish；　but　all　the　same　they'll　wearthey'll　wearl　They're　real　and　not　mere　lies　and　air　like　the　suits　of　cloth　of　gold。〃
　
　　〃Well；　well；〃　said　Hawk；　〃then　there's　none　left　in　all　Hort　Town　to　pull　fire　out　of　ears；　or　do　any　magic　like　they　did？〃
　　At　his　last　words　the　woman　frowned；　she　straightened　up　and　began　to　fold　the　fleecefell　carefully。　〃Those　who　want　lies　and　visions　chew　hazia；〃　she　said。　〃Talk　to　them　if　you　like！〃　She　nodded　at　the　unmoving　figures　around　the　square。
　　〃But　there　were　sorcerers；　they　that　charmed　the　winds　for　seamen　and　put　spells　of　fortune　on　their　cargoes。　Are　they　all　turned　to　other　trades？〃
　　But　she　in　sudden　fury　came　blaring　in　over　his　words；　〃There's　a　sorcerer　if　you　want　one；　a　great　one；　a　wizard　with　a　staff　and　all…see　him　there？　He　sailed　with　Egre　himself；　making　winds　and　finding　fat　galleys；　so　he　said；　but　it　was　all　lies；　and　Captain　Egre　gave　him　his　just　reward　at　last；　he　cut　his　right　hand　off。　And　there　he　sits　now；　see　him；　with　his　mouth　full　of　hazia　and　his　belly　full　of　air。　Air　and　liesl　Air　and　liesl　That's　all　there　is　to　your　magic；　Seacaptain　Goad〃
　　〃Well；　well；　mistress；〃　said　Hawk　with　obdurate　mildness；　〃I　was　only　asking。〃　She　turned　her　broad　back　with　a　great；　dazzle　of　whirling　mirror…dots；　and　he　ambled　off；　Arren　beside　him。
　　His　amble　was　purposeful。　It　brought　them　near　the　man　she　had　pointed　out。　He　sat　propped　against　a　wall；　staring　at　nothing；　the　dark；　bearded　face　had　been　very　handsome　once。　The　wrinkled　wrist…stump　lay　on　the　pavement　stones　in　the　hot；　bright　sunlight；　shameful。
　　There　was　some　motion　among　the　booths　behind　them；　but　Arren　found　it　hard　to　look　away　from　the　man；　a　loathing　fascination　held　him。　〃Was　he　really　a　wizard？〃　he　asked　very　low。
　　〃He　may　be　the　one　called　Hare；　who　was　weatherworker　for　the　pirate　Egre。　They　were　famous　thieves　…Here；　stand　clear；　Arrenl〃　A　man　running　full…tilt　out　from　among　the　booths　nearly　slammed　into　them　both。　Another　came　trotting　by；　struggling　under　the　weight　of　a　great　folding　tray　loaded　with　cords　and　braids　and　laces。　A　booth　collapsed　with　a　crash；　awnings　were　being　pushed　over　or　taken　down　hurriedly；　knots　of　people　shoved　and　wrestled　through　the　marketplace；　voices　rose　in　shouts　and　screams。　Above　them　all　rang　the　blaring　yell　of　the　woman　with　the　headdress　of　mirrors。　Arren　glimpsed　her　wielding　some　kind　of　pole　or　stick　against　a　bunch　of　men；　fending　them　off　with　great　sweeps　like　a　swordsman　at　bay。。　Whether　it　was　a　qu