Sabriel (The Abhorsen Trilogy)-第15章

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the　gate　swung　open；　pitching　her　onto　a　paved　courtyard；　the　beginning　of　a　red…brick　path；　the　bricks　ancient；　their　redness　the　color　of　dusty　apples。　the　path　wound　up　to　the　front　door　of　the　house；　a　cheerful　sky…blue　door；　bright　against　whitewashed　stone。　a　bronze　doorknocker　in　the　shape　of　a　lion’s　head　holding　a　ring　in　its　mouth　gleamed　in　counterpoint　to　the　white　cat　that　lay　coiled　on　the　rush　mat　before　the　door。

sabriel　lay　on　the　bricks　and　smiled　up　at　the　cat；　blinking　back　tears。　the　cat　twitched　and　turned　its　head　ever　so　slightly　to　look　at　her；　revealing　bright；　green　eyes。

“hello；　puss；”　croaked　sabriel；　coughing　as　she　staggered　once　more　to　her　feet　and　walked　forward；　groaning　and　creaking　with　every　step。　she　reached　down　to　pat　the　cat；　and　froze—for；　as　the　cat　thrust　its　head　up；　she　saw　the　collar　around　its　neck　and　the　tiny　bell　that　hung　there。

the　collar　was　only　red　leather；　but　the　charterspell　on　it　was　the　strongest；　most　enduring；　binding　that　sabriel　had　ever　seen　or　felt—and　the　bell　was　a　miniature　saraneth。　the　cat　was　no　cat；　but　　a　free　magic　creature　of　ancient　power。

“abhorsen；”　mewed　the　cat；　its　little　pink　tongue　darting。　“about　time　you　got　here。”

sabriel　stared　at　it　for　a　moment；　gave　a　little　sort　of　moan　and　fell　forward　in　a　faint　of　exhaustion　and　dismay。

m。



chapter　viii

（／小｜说｜网）
sabriel　awoke　to　soft　candlelight；　the　warmth　of　a　feather　bed；　and　silken　sheets；　delightfully　smooth　under　heavy　blankets。　a　fire　burned　briskly　in　a　red…brick　fireplace　and　wood…paneled　walls　gleamed　with　the　dark　mystery　of　well…polished　mahogany。　a　blue…papered　ceiling　with　silver　stars　dusted　across　it；　faced　her　newly　opened　eyes。　two　windows　confronted　each　other　across　the　room；　but　they　were　shuttered；　so　sabriel　had　no　idea　what　time　it　was；　no　more　than　she　had　any　remembrance　of　how　she’d　got　there。　it　was　definitely　abhorsen’s　house；　but　her　last　memory　was　of　fainting　on　the　doorstep。

gingerly—for　even　her　neck　ached　from　her　day　and　night　of　travel；　fear　and　flight—sabriel　lifted　her　head　to　look　around　and　once　again　met　the　green　eyes　of　the　cat　that　wasn’t　a　cat。

the　creature　was　lying　near　her　feet；　at　the　end　of　the　bed。

“who　。　。　。　what　are　you？”　sabriel　asked　nervously；　suddenly　all　too　aware　that　she　was　naked　under　the　soft　sheets。　a　sensuous　delight；　but　a　defenseless　one。　her　eyes　flickered　to　her　sword…belt　and　bell…bandolier；　carefully　draped　on　a　clothes…horse　near　the　door。

“i　have　a　variety　of　names；”　replied　the　cat。　it　had　a　strange　voice；　half…mew；　half…purr；　with　hissing　on　the　vowels。　“you　may　call　me　mogget。　as　to　what　i　am；　i　was　once　many　things；　but　now　i　am　only　several。　primarily；　i　am　a　servant　of　abhorsen。　unless　you　would　be　kind　enough　to　remove　my　collar？”

sabriel　gave　an　uneasy　smile；　and　shook　her　head　firmly。　whatever　mogget　was；　that　collar　was　the　only　thing　that　kept　it　as　a　servant　of　abhorsen　。　。　。　or　anybody　else。　the　charter　marks　on　the　collar　were　quite　explicit　about　that。　as　far　as　sabriel　could　tell；　the　binding　spell　was　over　a　thousand　years　old。　it　was　quite　possible　that　mogget　was　some　free　magic　spirit　as　old　as　the　wall；　or　even　older。　she　wondered　　why　her　father　hadn’t　mentioned　it；　and　with　a　pang；　wished　that　she　had　awoken　to　find　her　father　here；　in　his　house；　both　their　troubles　over。

“i　thought　not；”　said　mogget；　bining　a　careless　shrug　with　a　limbering　stretch。　it　。　。　。　or　he；　for　sabriel　felt　the　cat　was　definitely　masculine；　jumped　to　the　parquet　floor　and　sauntered　over　to　the　fire。　sabriel　watched；　her　trained　eye　noting　that　mogget’s　shadow　was　not　always　that　of　a　cat。

a　knock　at　the　door　interrupted　her　study　of　the　cat；　the　sharp　sound　making　sabriel　jump　nervously；　the　hair　on　the　back　of　her　neck　frizzing　to　attention。

“it’s　only　one　of　the　servants；”　mogget　said；　in　a　patronizing　tone。　“charter　sendings；　and　pretty　low…grade　ones　at　that。　they　always　burn　the　milk。”

sabriel　ignored　him；　and　said；　“e　in。”　her　voice　shook；　and　she　realized　that　shaky　nerves　and　weakness　would　be　with　her　for　a　while。

the　door　swung　open　silently　and　a　short；　robed　figure　drifted　in。　it　was　similar　to　the　upper　gatewarden；　being　cowled　and　so　without　a　visible　face；　but　this　one’s　habit　was　of　light　cream　rather　than　black。　it　had　a　simple　cotton　　underdress　draped　over　one　arm；　a　thick　towel　over　the　other　and　its　charter…woven　hands　held　a　long　woollen　surcoat　and　a　pair　of　slippers。

without　a　word；　it　went　to　the　end　of　the　bed　and　put　the　garments　on　sabriel’s　feet。　then　it　crossed　to　a　porcelain　basin　that　sat　in　a　silver　filigree　stand；　above　a　tiled　area　of　the　floor　to　the　left　of　the　fire。　there；　it　twisted　a　bronze　wheel；　and　steaming　hot　water　splashed　and　gurgled　from　a　pipe　in　the　wall；　bringing　with　it　the　stench　of　something　sulphurous　and　unpleasant。

sabriel　wrinkled　her　nose。

“hot　springs；”　mented　mogget。　“you　won’t　smell　it　after　a　while。　your　father　always　said　that　having　permanent　hot　water　was　worth　bearing　the　smell。　or　was　it　your　grandfather　who　said　that？　or　great…great…aunt？　ah；　memory　。　。　。”

the　servant　stood　immobile　while　the　basin　filled；　then　twisted　the　wheel　to　cut　the　flow　as　water　slopped　over　the　rim　to　the　floor；　close　to　mogget—who　leapt　to　his　feet　and　padded　away；　keeping　a　cautious　distance　from　the　charter　sending。　just　like　a　real　cat；　sabriel　thought。　perhaps　the　imposed　shape　impressed　behavior　too；　over　the　years—or　centuries。　she　　liked　cats。　the　school　had　a　cat；　a　plump　marmalade　feline；　who　went　by　the　name　of　biscuits。

sabriel　thought　about　the　way　it　slept　on　the　windowsill　of　the　prefect’s　room；　and　then　found　herself　thinking　about　the　school　in　general；　and　what　her　friends　would　be　doing。　her　eyelids　drooped　as　she　imagined　an　etiquette　class；　and　the　mistress　droning　on　about　silver　salvers　。　。　。

a　sharp　clang　woke　her　with　yet　another　start；　sending　further　stabs　of　pain　through　tired　muscles。

the　charter　sending　had　tapped　the　bronze　wheel　with　the　poker　from　the　fireplace。　it　was　obviously　impatient　for　sabriel　to　have　her　wash。

“water’s　getting　cold；”　explained　mogget；　leaping　up　to　the　bed　again。　“and　they’ll　be　serving　dinner　in　half　an　hour。”

“they？”　asked　sabriel；　sitting　up　and　reaching　forward　to　grab　slippers　and　towel；　preparatory　to　sidling　out　of　bed　and　into　them。

“them；”　said　mogget；　butting　his　head　in　the　direction　of　the　sending；　who　had　stepped　back　from　the　basin　and　was　now　holding　out　a　bar　of　soap。

sabriel　shuffled　over　to　the　basin；　the　towel　wrapped　firmly　around　her；　and　gingerly　touched　the　water。　it　was　delightfully　hot；　but　　before　she　could　do　anything　with　it；　the　sending　stepped　forward；　whisked　the　towel　off　her　and　upended　the　whole　basin　over　her　head。

sabriel　shrieked；　but；　again　before　she　could　do　anything　else；　the　sending　had　put　back　the　basin；　turned　the　wheel　for　more　hot　water　and　was　soaping　her　down；　paying　particular　attention　to　her　head；　as　if　it　wanted　to　get　soap　in　sabriel’s　eyes；　or　suspected　an　infestation　of　nits。

“what　are　you　doing！”　sabriel　protested；　as　the　strangely　cool　hands　of　the　sending　scrubbed　at　her　back　and　then；　quite　without　interest；　at　her　breasts　and　stomach。　“stop　it！　i’m　quite　old　enough　to　wash　myself；　thank　you！”

but　miss　prionte’s　techniques　for　dealing　with　domestic　servants　didn’t　seem　to　work　on　domestic　sendings。　it　kept　scrubbing；　occasionally　tipping　hot　water　over　sabriel。

“how　do　i　stop　it？”　she　spluttered　to　mogget；　as　still　more　water　cascaded　over　her　head　and　the　sending　started　to　scrub　lower　regions。

“you　can’t；”　replied　mogget；　who　seemed　quite　amused　by　the　spectacle。　“this　one’s　particularly　recalcitrant。”

“what　do　you　。　。　。　ow！　。　。　。　stop　that！　what　do　you　mean；　this　one？”

“there’s　lots　about　the　place；”　said　mogget。

“every　abhorsen　seems　to　have　made　their　own。

probably　because　they　get　like　this　one　after　a　few　hundred　years。　privileged　family　retainers；　who　always　think　they　know　best。　practically　human；　in　the　worst　possible　way。”

the　sending　paused　in　its　scrubbing　just　long　enough　to　flick　some　water　at　mogget；　who　jumped　the　wrong　way　and　yowled　as　it　hit　him。

just　before　another　great　basin…load　of　water　hit　sabriel；　she　saw　the　cat　shoot　under　the　bed；　his　tail　dividing　the　bedspread。

“that’s　enough；　thank　you！”　she　pronounced；　as　the　last　drench　of　water　drained　out　through　a　grille　in　the　tiled　area。　the　sending　had　probably　finished　anyway；　thought　sabriel；　as　it　stopped　washing　and　started　to　towel　her　dry。

she　snatched　the　towel　back　from　it　and　tried　to　finish　the　job　herself；　but　the　sending　counterattacked　by　bing　her　hair；　causing　another　minor　tussle。　eventually；　between　the　two　of　them；　sabriel　shrugged　on　the　underdress　and　surcoat；　and　submitted　to　a　manicure　and　vigorous　hair…brushing。

she　was　admiring　the　tiny；　repeated　silver　key　motif　on　the　black　surcoat　in　the　mirror　that　　backed　one　of　the　window…shutters；　when　a　gong　sounded　somewhere　else　in　the　house　and　the　servant…sending　opened　the　door。　a　split　second　later；　mogget　raced　through；