tw.theburningman-第7章

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　night。　But　he　was　bound　to　my　stepfather　by　honour　and　blood；　and　had　no　choice。
　　　　　　　He　snapped　at　me　when　I　kissed　his　ear　and　curled　my　fingers　in　his　hair。　'Give　a　man　some　peace；　girl。'
　　　　　　　'Why　are　you　a　man　and　I　am　a　girl？'　I　teased　him；　pretending　a　lightness　I　did　not　truly　feel。　'Is　there　such　a　difference　in　our　ages？　Have　I　not　given　to　you　already　that　which　makes　me　a　woman？'
　　　　　　　My　soldier　was　short…tempered　and　did　not　hear　the　love　in　what　I　said。　'Anybody　who　will　not　leave　off　when　she　is　asked　proves　herself　still　a　child。　And　I　am　a　man　because　I　wear　a　soldier's　badge；　and　because　if　my　master　asks；　I　must　give　my　life。'
　　　　　　　Tellarin　was　five　years　my　elder；　and　in　those　long…ago　days　I　was　almost　as　impressed　by　the　difference　as　he　was；　but　I　think　now　that　all　men　are　youngerr　than　their　women；　especially　when　their　honour　has　been　touched。
　　　　　　　As　he　stared　at　the　ceiling　his　face　turned　from　angry　to　solemn；　and　I　knew　he　was　thinking　of　what　he　must　do　that　night。　I　was　frightened　too；　so　I　kissed　him　again；　softly　this　time；　and　apologized。　When　he　had　gone；　full　of　excuses　meant　to　hide　his　actual　task；　I　prepared　for　my　own　journey。　I　had　hidden　my　thickest　cloak　and　six　fat　candles　where　Ulca　and　the　other　serving…women　would　not　find　them。　When　I　was　dressed　and　ready；　I　touched　my　mother's　golden　Tree　where　it　lay　against　my　heart；　and　said　a　prayer　for　the　safety　of　all　who　would　go　with　me　into　darkness。
　　　　　　　Stoning　Night　…　the　last　night　of　Avrel；　on　the　eve　of　Maia…month；　the　black　hours　when　tales　say　spirits　walk　until　driven　back　to　their　graves　by　dawn　and　the　crowing　cock。　The　High　Keep　lay　silent　around　me　as　I　followed　my　beloved　and　the　others　through　the　dark。　It　did　not　feel　so　much　that　the　castle　slept　as　that　the　great　keep　held　its　breath　and　waited。
　　　　　　　There　is　a　stairwell　beneath　the　Angel　Tower；　and　that　was　where　they　were　bound。　I　learned　of　it　for　the　first　time　on　that　night；　as　I　stood　wrapped　in　my　dark　cloak；　listening　from　the　shadows　of　the　wall　opposite　the　tower。　Those　I　followed　were　four　…　my　stepfather；　Tellarin　and　his　friend　Avalles；　and　the　woman　Valada。　Despite　the　bargain　she　had　made；　the　witch's　arms　were　still　chained。　It　saddened　me　to　see　her　restrained　like　an　animal。
　　　　　　　The　workmen　who　had　been　repairing　the　tower　had　laid　a　rough　wooden　floor　over　the　broken　stones　of　the　old　one　…　perhaps　to　make　certain　no　one　fell　down　one　of　the　many　holes；　perhaps　simply　to　close　off　any　openings　into　the　castle's　deepest　places。　Some　had　even　suggested　that　all　the　old　castle　floor　should　be　sealed　under　brick；　so　that　nothing　would　ever　e　up　that　way　to　trouble　the　sleep　of　God…fearing　folk。
　　　　　　　Because　of　this　wooden　floor；　I　waited　a　long　time　before　following　them　through　the　tower's　outer　portal；　knowing　it　would　take　some　time　for　my　stepfather　and　his　two　bondmen　to　shift　the　boards。　As　I　lurked　in　the　shadows　by　the　tower　wall　while　the　wind　prowled　the　Inner　Bailey；　I　thought　about　the　Angel　who　stood　at　the　top　of　the　tower；　a　figure　black　with　the　grime　of　centuries　that　no　rain　could　wash　away；　tipped　sideways　as　though　about　to　lose　her　balance　and　fall。　Who　was　she？　One　of　the　blessed　saints？　Was　it　an　omen　…　did　she　watch　over　me　as　I　meant　to　look　over　Tellarin　and　the　rest？　I　looked　up；　but　the　tower's　high　top　was　invisible　in　the　night。
　　　　　　　At　last　I　tried　the　latch　of　the　tower　door　and　found　the　bolt　had　not　been　shot。　I　hoped　that　it　meant　the　Angel　was　indeed　looking　out　for　me。
　　　　　　　Inside　the　tower　the　moonlight　ended；　so　while　still　in　the　doorway　I　lit　my　first　candle　from　the　hidden　touchwood；　which　had　nearly　burnt　down。　My　footsteps　seemed　frighteningly　loud　in　the　stony　entry　hall　but　no　one　appeared　from　the　shadows　to　demand　my　business　in　that　place。　I　heard　no　sound　of　my　stepfather　or　the　rest。
　　　　　　　I　paused　for　a　moment　in　front　of　the　great；　upward…winding　staircase　and　could　not　help　but　wonder　what　the　workmen　would　find　when　they　cleared　the　rubble　and　reached　the　top　…　as　I　still　wonder　all　these　years　later；　with　the　painstaking　work　yet　unfinished。　I　suppose　I　will　not　see　it　in　my　lifetime。　Will　they　discover　treasures　left　by　the　fairy…folk？　Or　perhaps　only　those　ancient　beings'　frail　bones？
　　　　　　　Even　were　it　not　for　the　things　that　happened　on　that　fateful　night；　still　the　Angel　Tower　would　haunt　me；　as　it　haunts　this　great　keep　and　all　the　lands　beneath　its　long　shadow。　No　mortals；　I　think；　will　ever　know　all　its　secrets。
　　　　　　　Once；　long　ago；　1　dreamed　that　my　stepfather　gave　me　the　Angel　herself　to　clean；　but　that　no　matter　how　I　tried；　I　could　not　scrub　the　black　muck　from　her　limbs　and　face。　He　told　me　that　it　was　not　my　fault；　that　God　would　have　lent　me　the　strength　if　He　truly　wanted　the　Angel's　face　to　be　seen；　but　I　still　wept　at　my　failure。
　　　　　　　I　moved　from　the　entry　hall　to　a　place　where　the　floor　fell　away　in　great　broken　shards；　and　tried　to　imagine　what　could　smash　stones　so　thoroughly　and　yet　leave　the　tower　itself　still　standing。　It　was　not　easy　to　follow　where　my　stepfather　and　my　beloved　had　already　gone；　but　I　climbed　down　the　rubble；　leaning　to　set　my　candle　before　me　so　that　1　could　have　both　my　hands　free。　I　wished；　not　for　the　last　time；　that　I　had　worn　something　other　than　my　soft　shoes。　I　clambered　down　and　down；　hurting　my　feet；　tearing　my　dress　in　several　places；　until　I　reached　the　jumble　of　smaller　broken　stones　which　was　the　floor；　at　least　a　half　dozen　times　my　own　height　below　the　level　of　the　Inner　Bailey。　In　the　midst　of　this　field　of　shards　gaped　a　great；　black　hole　bigger　than　the　rest；　a　jagged　mouth　that　waited　to　swallow　me　down。　As　I　crunched　closer　to　it；　I　heard　what　I　knew　must　be　the　voices　of　the　others　floating　up　from　the　depths；　although　they　sounded　strange　to　me。
　　　　　　　More　stones　had　been　pushed　aside　to　reveal　the　entrance　to　the　stairwell；　a　lip　of　shiny　white　with　steps　inside　it　that　vanished　into　shadow。　Another　voice　floated　up；　laughing。　It　belonged　to　no　one　I　knew。
　　　　　　　Even　with　all　that　had　happened　in　the　previous　days；　I　had　never　yet　felt　so　frightened；　but　I　knew　Tellarin　was　down　there　in　the　dark　places。　I　made　the　sign　of　the　Tree　upon　my　breast　then　stepped　on　to　the　stairway。
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　At　first　I　could　find　no　trace　of　them。
　　　　　　　As　I　descended；　the　light　of　my　single　candle　served　only　to　make　the　stairwell　seem　more　than　ever　like　a　shadowy　throat　waiting　to　swallow　me；　but　fear　alone　could　not　keep　me　from　my　beloved　…　if　anything；　it　sped　my　steps。　I　hurried　downward　until　it　seemed　I　must　have　gone　as　far　beneath　the　castle　as　the　Angel　Tower　loomed　above　it；　but　still　I　had　not　caught　up　with　them。
　　　　　　　Whether　it　was　a　trick　of　sound；　or　of　the　winds　that　are　said　to　blow　through　the　caves　of　the　Kingslake　cliffs；　I　continued　to　hear　unfamiliar　voices。　Some　seemed　so　close　that　if　I　had　not　had　a　candle；　I　would　have　been　certain　I　could　reach　out　and　touch　the　person　who　whispered　to　me；　but　the　flickering　light　showed　me　that　the　stairwell　was　empty。　The　voices　babbled；　and　sometimes　sang；　in　a　soft；　sad　tongue　I　did　not　understand　or　even　recognize。
　　　　　　　I　knew　I　should　be　too　frightened　to　remain；　that　I　should　turn　and　flee　back　to　moonlight　and　clean　air；　but　although　the　bodiless　murmurs　filled　me　with　dismay；　1　felt　no　evil　in　them。　If　they　were　ghosts；　I　do　not　think　they　even　knew　I　was　there。　It　was　as　though　the　castle　talked　to　itself；　like　an　old　man　sitting　beside　the　fire；　lost　in　the　memories　of　days　long　past。
　　　　　　　The　stairwell　ended　in　a　wide　landing　with　open　doorways　at　either　end；　and　I　could　not　help　thinking　of　the　doorways　mentioned　in　my　stepfather's　book。　As　I　paused　to　consider　which　way　I　should　go；　I　examined　the　carvings　on　the　walls；　delicate　vines　and　flowers　whose　type　I　had　never　seen　before。　Above　one　doorframe　a　nightingale　perched　on　a　tree　bough。　Another　tree　bough　was　carved　above　the　far　doorway　…　or　rather；　I　saw　as　I　moved　my　candle；　they　were　both　boughs　from　one　single　tree；　which　had　been　carved　directly　above　me；　spreading　across　the　ceiling　of　the　stairwell　as　though　I　myself　were　the　tree's　trunk。　On　the　bough　above　the　second　doorway　twined　a　slender　serpent。　I　shuddered；　and　began　to　move　towards　the　nightingale　door；　but　at　that　moment　words　floated　up　out　of　the　darkness。
　　　　　　　'。。。　if　you　have　lied　to　me。　I　am　a　patient　man；　but。　。。'
It　was　my　stepfather；　and　even　if　I　had　not　recognized　his　faint　voice；　I　would　have　known　him　by　the　words；　for　that　is　what　he　always　said。　And　he　spoke　the　truth　…　he　was　a　patient　man。　He　had　always　been　like　one　of　the　stones　of　the　hilltop　rings；　cool　and　hard　and　in　no　hurry　to　move　growing　warm　only　after　the　sun　of　an　entire　summer　has　beat　upon　him　I　had　sometimes　felt　I　would　like　to　break　a　stick　upon　him；　if　only　to　make　him　turn　and　truly　look　at　me。
　　　　　　　Only　once　did　he　ever　do　that；　I　had　believed　…　on　that　day　when　he　told　me　that　'they'　had　taken　everything　from　him。　But　now　I　knew　he　had　looked　at　me　another　time；　perhaps　seen　me　smile　on　a　day　when　my　lover　had　given　me　a　gift　or　a　kiss；　and　had　written　in　his　book；　Breda　happy　Today。
　　　　　　　My　stepfather's　words　had　drifted　up　through　the　other　doorway。　I　lit　another　candle　and　placed　it　on　top　of　the　first；　which　had　burned　almost　to　the　holder；　then　followed　the　voice　of　Sulis　through　the　serpent　door。
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　Downward　I　went；　and　downward　still　farther　…　what　seemed　a　journey　of　hours；　through　sloping；　long…deserted　corridors　that　twisted　like　yarn　spilled　from　a　sack。　The　light　of　the　candles　showed　me　stone　that；　although　I　knew　it　was　even　more　ancient；　seemed　newer　and　brighter　than　that　which　I　had　seen　farther　above。　In　places　the　passageways　opened　into　rooms　choked　with　dirt　and　rubble；　but　which　must　have　been　massive；　with　ceilings　as　high　as　any　of　the　greatest　halls　I　have　ever　heard　of　in　Nabban。　The　carvings　I　could　see　were　so　delicate；　so　perfect；　that　they　might　have　been　the　actual　things　of　nature　…　birds；　plants；　trees　…　frozen　into　stone　by　the　sort　of　magical　spells　that　so　often　had　been　part　of　my　mother's　and　Ulca's　stories。
　　　　　　　It　was　astonishing　to　think　that　this　entire　world　had　lain　in　its　tomb　of　earth　below　us　as　long　as　we　had　lived　in　the　High　Keep；　and　for　generations　before　that。　I　knew　I　was　seeing　the　ancient　home　of　the　fairy…folk。　With　all　the　stories；　and　even　with　the　evidence　of　the　tower　itself；　I　had　still　never　imagined　they　would　have　such　a　way　with　stone；　to　make　it　froth　like　water　and　shimmer　like　ice；　to　make　it　stretch　overhead　in　slender　arcs　like　the　finest　branches　of　a　willow　tree。　Had　the　Northmen　truly　killed　them　all？　For　the　first　time；　I　understood　something　of　what　this　meant；　and　a　deep；　quiet　horror　stole　over　me。　The　creators　of　all　this　beauty；　slaughtered；　and　their　houses　usurped　by　their　slayers　…　no　wonder　the　darkness　was　full　of　unquiet　voices。　No　wonder　the　High　Keep　was　a　place　of　haunted　sadness　for　everyone　who　lived　in　it。　The　castle　of　our　day　was　founded　on　ancient　murder。　It　was　built　on　death。
　　　It　pulled　at　me；　that　thought。　It　became　tangled　in　my　mind　with　the　memory　of　my　stepfather's　distracted　stare；　of　t