Sabriel (The Abhorsen Trilogy)-第27章

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grey　mist　coiling　upwards；　twining　around　him　like　a　clinging　vine；　gripping　arms　and　legs；　immobilizing；　strangling；　merciless。　so　firmly　grown　about　his　body　there　was　no　possibility　of　escape；　so　tight　his　muscles　couldn’t　even　flex　under　skin；　his　eyelids　couldn’t　blink。　and　nothing　to　see　but　patches　of　darker　grey；　crisscrossing　his　vision　like　windblown　scum　upon　a　fetid　pool。

then；　suddenly；　fierce　red　light；　pain　exploding　everywhere；　rocketing　from　toes　to　brain　and　back　again。　the　grey　mist　clearing；　mobility　returning。　no　more　grey　patches；　but　blurry　colors；　slowly　twisting　into　focus。　a　woman；　looking　down　at　him；　a　young　woman；　armed　and　armored；　her　face　。　。　。　battered。　no；　not　a　woman。　the　abhorsen；　for　she　wore　the　blazon　and　the　bells。　but　she　was　too　young；　not　the　abhorsen　he　knew；　or　any　of　the　family　。　。　。

“thank　you；”　he　said；　the　words　ing　out　like　a　mouse　creeping　from　a　dusty　larder。

“abhorsen。”

then　he　fainted；　his　body　rushing　gladly　to　wele　real　sleep；　true　unconsciousness　and　sanity…restoring　rest。

he　awoke　under　a　blanket；　and　felt　a　moment’s　panic　when　the　thick　grey　wool　pressed　upon　his　mouth　and　eyes。　he　struggled　with　it；　threw　it　back　with　a　gasp；　and　relaxed　as　he　felt　fresh　air　on　his　face　and　dim　sunlight　filtering　down　from　above。　he　looked　up　and　saw　from　the　reddish　hue　that　it　must　be　soon　after　dawn。　the　sinkhole　puzzled　him　for　a　few　seconds—　disoriented；　he　felt　dizzy　and　stupid；　till　he　looked　at　the　tall　masts　all　around；　the　black　sails；　and　the　unfinished　ship　nearby。

“holehallow；”　he　muttered　to　himself；　frowning。

he　remembered　it　now。　but　what　was　he　doing　here？　pletely　naked　under　a　rough　camping　blanket？　he　sat　up；　and　shook　his　head。　it　was　sore　and　his　temples　were　throbbing；　seemingly　from　the　　battering…ram　effect　of　a　severe　hangover。　but　he　felt　certain　he　hadn’t　been　drinking。　the　last　thing　he　remembered　was　going　down　the　steps。

rogir　had　asked　him　。　。　。　no　。　。　。　the　last　thing　was　the　fleeting　image　of　a　pale；　concerned　face；　bloodied　and　bruised；　black　hair　hanging　out　in　a　fringe　under　her　helmet。　a　deep　blue　surcoat；　with　the　blazon　of　silver　keys。　the　abhorsen。

“she’s　washing　at　the　spring；”　said　a　soft　voice；　interrupting　his　faltering　recollection。　“she　got　up　before　the　sun。　cleanliness　is　a　wonderful　thing。”

the　voice　did　not　seem　to　belong　to　anything　visible；　till　the　man　looked　up　at　the　nearby　ship。

there　was　a　large；　irregular　hole　in　the　bow；　where　the　figurehead　should　have　been　and　a　white　cat　was　curled　up　in　the　hole；　watching　him　with　an　unnaturally　sharp；　green…eyed　gaze。

“what　are　you？”　said　the　man；　his　eyes　cautiously　flickering　from　side　to　side；　looking　for　a　weapon。　a　pile　of　clothes　was　the　only　thing　nearby；　containing　a　shirt；　trousers　and　some　underwear；　but　it　was　weighted　down　with　a　largish　rock。　his　hand　sidled　out　towards　the　rock。

“don’t　be　alarmed；”　said　the　cat。　“i’m　but　a　faithful　retainer　of　the　abhorsen。　name　of　　mogget。　for　the　moment。”

the　man’s　hand　closed　on　the　rock；　but　he　didn’t　lift　it。　memories　were　slowly　sidling　back　to　his　benumbed　mind；　drawn　like　grains　of　iron　to　a　magnet。　there　were　memories　of　various　abhorsens　among　them—memories　that　gave　him　an　inkling　of　what　this　cat…creature　was。

“you　were　bigger　when　we　last　met；”　he　hazarded；　testing　his　guess。

“have　we　met？”　replied　mogget；　yawning。

“dear　me。　i　can’t　recall　it。　what　was　the　name？”

a　good　question；　thought　the　man。　he　couldn’t　remember。　he　knew　who　he　was；　in　general　terms；　but　his　name　eluded　him。　other　names　came　easily　though；　and　some　flashes　of　memory　concerning　what　he　thought　of　as　his　immediate　past。　he　growled；　and　grimaced　as　they　came　to　him；　and　clenched　his　fists　in　pain　and　anger。

“unusual　name；”　mented　mogget。　“more　of　a　bear’s　name；　that　growl。　do　you　mind　if　i　call　you　touchstone？”

“what！”　the　man　exclaimed；　affronted。　“that’s　a　fool’s　name！　how　dare—”

“is　it　unfitting？”　interrupted　mogget；　coolly。

“you　do　remember　what　you’ve　done？”

the　man　was　silent　then；　for　he　suddenly　did　remember；　though　he　didn’t　know　why　he’d　done　it；　or　what　the　consequences　had　been。　he　also　remembered　that　since　this　was　the　case；　there　was　no　point　trying　to　remember　his　name。

he　was　no　longer　fit　to　bear　it。

“yes；　i　remember；”　he　whispered。　“you　may　call　me　touchstone。　but　i　shall　call　you—”

he　choked；　looked　surprised；　then　tried　again。

“you　can’t　say　it；”　mogget　said。　“a　spell　tied　to　the　corruption　of—but　i　can’t　say　it；　nor　tell　anyone　the　nature　of　it；　or　how　to　fix　it。　you　won’t　be　able　to　talk　about　it　either　and　there　may　be　other　effects。　certainly；　it　has　affected　me。”

“i　see；”　replied　touchstone；　somberly。　he　didn’t　try　the　name　again。　“tell　me；　who　rules　the　kingdom？”

“no　one；”　said　mogget。

“a　regency；　then。　that　is　perhaps—”

“no。　no　regency。　no　one　reigns。　no　one　rules。

there　was　a　regency　at　first；　but　it　declined　。　。　。

with　help。”

“what　do　you　mean；　‘at　first’？”　asked　touchstone。　“what　exactly　has　happened？　where　have　i　been？”

“the　regency　lasted　for　one　hundred　and　　eighty　years；”　mogget　announced　callously。

“anarchy　has　held　sway　for　the　last　twenty；　tempered　by　what　a　few　remaining　loyalists　could　do。　and　you；　my　boy；　have　been　adorning　the　front　of　this　ship　as　a　lump　of　wood　for　the　last　two　hundred　years。”

“the　family？”

“all　dead　and　past　the　final　gate；　save　one；　who　should　be。　you　know　who　i　mean。”

for　a　moment；　this　news　seemed　to　return　touchstone　to　his　wooden　state。　he　sat　frozen；　only　the　slight　movement　of　his　chest　showing　continued　life。　then　tears　started　in　his　eyes；　and　his　head　slowly　fell　to　meet　his　upturned　hands。

mogget　watched　without　sympathy；　till　the　young　man’s　back　ceased　its　heaving　and　the　harsh　in…drawn　gasps　between　sobs　became　calmer。

“there’s　no　point　crying　over　it；”　the　cat　said　harshly。　“plenty　of　people　have　died　trying　to　put　the　matter　to　rights。　four　abhorsens　have　fallen　in　this　century　alone；　trying　to　deal　with　the　dead；　the　broken　stones　and　the—the　original　problem。　my　current　abhorsen　certainly　isn’t　lying　around　crying　her　eyes　out。　make　yourself　useful　and　help　her。”

“can　i？”　asked　touchstone　bleakly；　wiping　his　face　with　the　blanket。

“why　not？”　snorted　mogget。　“get　dressed；　for　a　start。　there　are　some　things　aboard　here　for　you　as　well。　swords　and　suchlike。”

“but　i’m　not　fit　to　wield　royal—”

“just　do　as　you’re　told；”　mogget　said　firmly。

“think　of　yourself　as　abhorsen’s　sworn　swordhand；　if　it　makes　you　feel　better；　though　in　this　present　era；　you’ll　find　mon　sense　is　more　important　than　honor。”

“very　well；”　touchstone　muttered；　humbly。

he　stood　up　and　put　on　the　underclothes　and　shirt；　but　couldn’t　get　the　trousers　past　his　heavily　muscled　thighs。

“there’s　a　kilt　and　leggings　in　one　of　the　chests　back　here；”　mogget　said；　after　watching　touchstone　hopping　around　on　one　leg；　the　other　trapped　in　too…tight　leather。

touchstone　nodded；　divested　himself　of　the　trousers；　and　clambered　up　through　the　hole；　taking　care　to　keep　as　far　away　from　mogget　as　possible。　halfway　up；　he　paused；　arms　braced　on　either　side　of　the　gap。

“you　won’t　tell　her？”　he　asked。

“tell　who？　tell　what？”

“abhorsen。　please；　i’ll　do　all　i　can　to　help。　but　it　wasn’t　intentional。　my　part；　i　mean。　please；　don’t　tell　her—”

“spare　me　the　pleadings；”　said　mogget；　in　a　disgusted　tone。　“i　can’t　tell　her。　you　can’t　tell　her。

the　corruption　is　wide　and　the　spell　rather　indiscriminatory。

hurry　up—she’ll　be　back　soon。　i’ll　tell　you　the　rest　of　our　current　saga　while　you　dress。”

sabriel　returned　from　the　spring　feeling　healthier；　cleaner　and　happier。　she’d　slept　well　and　the　morning’s　ablutions　had　cleared　off　the　blood。

the　bruises；　swellings　and　sunburn　had　all　responded　well　to　her　herbal　treatments。　all　in　all；　she　felt　about　eighty　percent　normal；　rather　than　ten　percent　functional；　and　she　was　looking　forward　to　having　some　pany　at　breakfast　other　than　the　sardonic　mogget。　not　that　he　didn’t　have　his　uses；　such　as　guarding　unconscious　or　sleeping　humans。　he’d　also　assured　her　that　he　had　tested　the　charter　mark　on　the　figurehead…man；　finding　him　to　be　unsullied　by　free　magic；　or　necromancy。

she’d　expected　the　man　to　still　be　asleep；　so　she　felt　a　faint　frisson　of　surprise　and　suspense　when　she　saw　a　figure　standing　by　the　ship’s　bow；　　facing　the　other　way。　for　a　second；　her　hand　twitched　to　her　sword；　then　she　saw　mogget　nearby；　precariously　draped　on　the　ship’s　rail。

she　approached　nervously；　her　curiosity　tempered　by　the　need　to　be　wary　of　strangers。　he　looked　different　dressed。　older　and　somewhat　intimidating；　particularly　since　he　seemed　to　have　scorned　her　plain　clothing　for　a　kilt　of　gold…striped　red；　with　matching　leggings　of　redstriped　gold；　disappearing　into　turned…down　thigh　boots　of　russet　doeskin。　he　was　wearing　her　shirt；　though；　and　preparing　to　put　on　a　red　leather　jerkin。　it　had　detachable；　lace…up　sleeves；　which　seemed　to　be　giving　him　some　problems。

two　swords　lay　in　three…quarter　scabbards　near