Sabriel (The Abhorsen Trilogy)-第28章

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two　swords　lay　in　three…quarter　scabbards　near　his　feet；　stabbing　points　shining　four　inches　out　of　the　leather。　a　wide　belt　with　the　appropriate　hooks　already　encircled　his　waist。

“curse　these　laces；”　he　said；　when　she　was　about　ten　paces　away。　a　nice　voice；　quite　deep；　but　currently　frustrated　and　peaking　with　temper。

“good　morning；”　said　sabriel。

he　whirled　around；　dropping　the　sleeves；　almost　ducking　to　his　swords；　before　recovering　to　transform　the　motion　into　a　bow；　culminating　in　a　descent　to　one　knee。

“good　morning；　milady；”　he　said　huskily；　head　bowed；　carefully　not　meeting　her　gaze。　she　saw　that　he’d　found　some　earrings；　large　gold　hoops　clumsily　pushed　through　pierced　lobes；　for　they　were　bloodied。　apart　from　them；　all　she　could　see　was　the　top　of　his　curly…haired　head。

“i’m　not　‘milady；’”　said　sabriel；　wondering　which　of　miss　prionte’s　etiquette　principles　applied　to　this　situation。　“my　name　is　sabriel。”

“sabriel？　but　you　are　the　abhorsen；”　the　man　said　slowly。　he　didn’t　sound　overly　bright；　sabriel　thought；　with　sinking　expectations。

perhaps　there　would　be　very　little　conversation　at　breakfast　after　all。

“no；　my　father　is　the　abhorsen；”　she　said；　with　a　stern　look　at　mogget；　warning　him　not　to　interfere。　“i’m　a　sort　of　stand…in。　it’s　a　bit　plicated；　so　i’ll　explain　later。　what’s　your　name？”

he　hesitated；　then　mumbled；　“i　can’t　remember；　milady。　please；　call　me　。　。　。　call　me　touchstone。”

“touchstone？”　asked　sabriel。　that　sounded　familiar；　but　she　couldn’t　place　it　for　a　moment。

“touchstone？　but　that’s　a　jester’s　name；　a　fool’s　name。　why　call　you　that？”

“that’s　what　i　am；”　he　said　dully；　without　inflection。

“well；　i　have　to　call　you　something；”　sabriel　continued。　“touchstone。　you　know；　there　is　the　tradition　of　a　wise　fool；　so　perhaps　it’s　not　so　bad。　i　guess　you　think　you’re　a　fool　because　you’ve　been　imprisoned　as　a　figurehead—and　in　death；　of　course。”

“in　death！”　exclaimed　touchstone。　he　looked　up　and　his　grey　eyes　met　sabriel’s。　surprisingly；　he　had　a　clear；　intelligent　gaze。　perhaps　there　is　some　hope　for　him　after　all；　she　thought；　as　she　explained：　“your　spirit　was　somehow　preserved　just　beyond　the　border　of　death；　and　your　body　preserved　as　the　wooden　figurehead。　both　necromantic　and　free　magic　would　have　been　involved。　very　powerful　magic；　on　both　counts。

i　am　curious　as　to　why　it　was　used　on　you。”

touchstone　looked　away　again；　and　sabriel　sensed　a　certain　shiftiness；　or　embarrassment。

she　guessed　that　the　forthing　explanation　would　be　a　half…truth；　at　best。

“i　don’t　remember　very　well；”　he　said；　slowly。

“though　things　are　ing　back。　i　am　。　。　。　i　was　。　。　。　a　guardsman。　the　royal　guard。　there　was　some　sort　of　attack　upon　the　queen　。　。　。

an　ambush　in　the—at　the　bottom　of　the　stairs。

i　remember　fighting；　with　blade　and　charter　magic—we　were　all　charter　mages；　all　the　guard。　i　thought　we　were　safe；　but　there　was　treachery　。　。　。　then　。　。　。　i　was　here。　i　don’t　know　how。”

sabriel　listened　carefully；　wondering　how　much　of　what　he　said　was　true。　it　was　likely　that　his　memory　was　impaired；　but　he　possibly　was　a　royal　guard。　perhaps　he　had　cast　a　diamond　of　protection　。　。　。　that　could　have　been　why　his　enemies　could　only　imprison　him；　rather　than　kill。　but；　surely　they　could　have　waited　till　it　failed。　why　the　bizarre　method　of　imprisonment？　and；　most　importantly；　how　did　the　figurehead　manage　to　get　placed　in　this　most　protected　of　places？　she　filed　all　these　questions　for　later　investigation；　for　another　thought　had　struck　her。　if　he　really　was　a　royal　guard；　the　queen　he　had　guarded　must　have　been　dead　and　gone　for　at　least　two　hundred　years　and；　with　her；　everyone　and　everything　he　knew。

“you　have　been　a　prisoner　for　a　long　time；”　she　said　gently；　uncertain　about　how　to　break　the　news。　“have　you　。　。　。　i　mean　did　you　。　。　。　well；　　what　i　mean　is　it’s　been　a　very　long　time—”

“two　hundred　years；”　whispered　touchstone。

“your　minion　told　me。”

“your　family　。　。　。”

“i　have　none；”　he　said。　his　expression　was　set；　as　immobile　as　the　carved　wood　of　the　previous　day。　carefully；　he　reached　over　and　drew　one　of　his　swords；　offering　it　to　sabriel　hilt…first。

“i　would　serve　you；　milady；　to　fight　against　the　enemies　of　the　kingdom。”

sabriel　didn’t　take　the　sword；　though　his　plea　made　her　reflexively　reach　out。　but　a　moment’s　thought　closed　her　open　palm；　and　her　arm　fell　back　to　her　side。　she　looked　at　mogget；　who　was　watching　the　proceedings　with　unabashed　interest。

“what　have　you　told　him；　mogget？”　she　asked；　suspicion　wreathing　her　words。

“the　state　of　the　kingdom；　generally　speaking；”

replied　the　cat。　“recent　events。　our　descent　here；　more　or　less。　your　duty　as　abhorsen　to　remedy　the　situation。”

“the　mordicant？　shadow　hands？　gore　crows？　the　dead　adept；　whoever　it　may　be？”

“not　specifically；”　said　mogget；　cheerfully。　“i　thought　he　could　presume　as　much。”

“as　you　see；”　sabriel　said；　rather　angrily；　“my　‘minion’　has　not　been　totally　honest　with　you。　i　was　raised　across　the　wall；　in　ancelstierre；　so　i　have　very　little　idea　about　what　is　going　on。　i　have　huge　gaps　in　my　knowledge　of　the　old　kingdom；　including　everything　from　geography　to　history　to　charter　magic。　i　face　some　dire　enemies；　probably　under　the　overall　direction　of　one　of　the　greater　dead；　a　necromantic　adept。　and　i’m　not　out　to　save　the　kingdom；　just　to　find　my　father；　the　real　abhorsen。　so　i　don’t　want　to　take　your　oath　or　service　or　anything　like　that；　particularly　as　we’ve　only　just　met。　i　am　happy　for　you　to　acpany　us　to　the　nearest　approximation　of　civilization；　but　i　have　no　idea　what　i　will　be　doing　after　that。　and；　please　remember　that　my　name　is　sabriel。　not　milady。　not　abhorsen。　now；　i　think　it’s　time　for　breakfast。”

with　that；　she　stalked　over　to　her　pack；　and　started　getting　out　some　oatmeal　and　a　small　cooking　pot。

touchstone　stared　after　her　for　a　moment；　then　picked　himself　up；　attached　his　swords；　put　on　the　sleeveless　jerkin；　tied　the　sleeves　to　his　belt　and　wandered　off　to　the　nearest　clump　of　trees。

mogget　followed　him　there；　and　watched　him　pick　up　dead　branches　and　sticks　for　a　fire。

“she　really　did　grow　up　in　ancelstierre；”　said　the　cat。　“she　doesn’t　realize　refusing　your　oath　is　an　insult。　and　it’s　true　enough　about　her　ignorance。

that’s　one　of　the　reasons　she　needs　your　help。”

“i　can’t　remember　much；”　said　touchstone；　snapping　a　branch　in　half　with　considerable　ferocity。

“except　my　most　recent　past。　everything　else　is　like　a　dream。　i’m　not　sure　if　it’s　real　or　not；　learned　or　imagined。　and　i　wasn’t　insulted。　my　oath　isn’t　worth　much。”

“but　you’ll　help　her；”　said　mogget。　it　wasn’t　a　question。

“no；”　said　touchstone。　“help　is　for　equals。　i’ll　serve　her。　that’s　all　i’m　good　for。”

as　sabriel　feared；　there　was　little　conversation　over　breakfast。　mogget　went　off　in　search　of　his　own；　and　sabriel　and　touchstone　were　hindered　by　the　sole　cooking　pot　and　single　spoon；　so　they　took　it　in　turns　to　eat　half　the　porridge。　even　allowing　for　this　difficulty；　touchstone　was　unmunicative。　sabriel　started　asking　a　lot　of　questions；　but　as　his　standard　response　was；　“i’m　sorry；　i　can’t　remember；”　she　soon　gave　up。

“i　don’t　suppose　you　can　remember　how　to　get　　out　of　this　sinkhole；　either；”　she　asked　in　exasperation；　after　a　particularly　long　stretch　of　silence。

even　to　her；　this　sounded　like　a　prefect　addressing　a　miscreant　twelve…year…old。

“no；　i’m　sorry　。　。　。”　touchstone　began　automatically；　then　he　paused；　and　the　corner　of　his　mouth　quirked　up　with　a　momentary　spasm　of　pleasure。　“wait！　yes—i　do　remember！　there’s　a　hidden　stair；　to　the　north　of　king　janeurl’s　ship　。　。　。　oh；　i　can’t　remember　which　one　that　is　。　。　。”

“there’s　only　four　ships　near　the　northern　rim；”

sabriel　mused。　“it　won’t　be　too　hard　to　find。

how’s　your　memory　for　other　geography？　the　kingdom；　for　instance？”

“i’m　not　sure；”　replied　touchstone；　guardedly；　bowing　his　head　again。　sabriel　looked　at　him　and　took　a　deep　breath　to　calm　the　eel…like　writhings　of　anger　that　were　slowly　getting　bigger　and　bigger　inside　her。　she　could　excuse　his　faulty　memory—after　all；　that　was　due　to　magical　incarceration。

but　the　servile　manner　that　went　with　it　seemed　to　be　an　affectation。　he　was　like　a　bad　actor　playing　the　butler—or　rather；　a　nonactor　trying　to　impersonate　a　butler　as　best　he　could。　but　why？　　“mogget　drew　me　a　map；”　she　said；　talking　as　much　to　calm　herself　as　for　any　real　munication。

“but；　as　he　apparently　has　only　left　abhorsen’s　house　for　a　few　weekends　over　the　last　thousand　years；　even　two…hundred…year…old　memories　。　。　。”

sabriel　paused；　and　bit　her　lip；　suddenly　aware　that　her　annoyance　with　him　had　made　her　spiteful。

he　looked　up　as　she　stopped　speaking；　but　no　reaction　showed　on　his　face。　he　might　as　well　still　be　carved　from　wood。

“what　i　mean　is；”　sabriel　continued　carefully；　“it　would　be　very　helpful　if　you　could　advise　me　on　the　best　route　to　belisaere；　and　the　important　landmarks　and　locations　on　the　way。”

she　got　the　map　out　of　the　special　pocket　in　the　pack　and　rem