Sabriel (The Abhorsen Trilogy)-第37章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


ures　。　。　。

then　there　was　blinding　white　light；　the　sound　of　bells—bells　like　yours；　sabriel—and　voices；　harsh　voices　。　。　。　rogir　flinching　back；　the　cup　dropped；　blood　floating　on　the　water　like　oil。　i　turned；　saw　guardsmen　on　the　stairs；　a　burning；　twisting　column　of　white　fire；　a　man　with　sword　and　bells　。　。　。　then　i　fainted；　or　was　knocked　unconscious。　when　i　came　to；　i　was　in　holehallow；　seeing　your　face。　i　don’t　know　how　i　got　there；　who　put　me　there　。　。　。　i　still　only　remember　in　shreds　and　patches。”

“you　should　have　told　me；”　sabriel　said；　trying　to　put　as　much　passion　in　her　voice　as　she　could。　“but　perhaps　it　had　to　wait　for　the　sea’s　freeing　of　that　binding　spell。　tell　me；　the　man　with　the　sword　and　bells；　was　it　the　abhorsen？”

“i　don’t　know；”　replied　touchstone。　“probably。”

“almost　definitely；　i　would　say；”　added　sabriel。

she　looked　at　mogget；　thinking　of　that　column　of　twisting　fire。　“you　were　there　too；　weren’t　you；　mogget？　unbound；　in　your　other　form。”

“yes；　i　was　there；”　said　the　cat。　“with　the　abhorsen　of　that　time。　a　very　powerful　charter　mage；　and　a　master　of　the　bells；　but　a　little　too　good…hearted　to　deal　with　treachery。　i　had　terrible　trouble　getting　him　to　belisaere；　and　in　the　end；　we　were　not　timely　enough　to　save　the　queen　or　her　daughters。”

“what　happened？”　whispered　touchstone。

“what　happened？”

“rogir　was　already　one　of　the　dead　when　he　came　back　to　belisaere；”　mogget　said　wearily；　as　if　he　were　telling　a　cynical　yarn　to　a　crew　of　hard…bitten　cronies。　“but　only　an　abhorsen　would　have　known　it；　and　he　wasn’t　there。

rogir’s　real　body　was　hidden　somewhere　。　。　。　is　hidden　somewhere　。　。　。　and　he　wore　a　free　magic　construct　for　his　physical　form。

“somewhere　along　the　path　of　his　studies；　he’d　swapped　real　life　for　power　and；　like　all　the　dead；　he　needed　to　take　life　all　the　time　to　stay　out　of　death。　but　the　charter　made　it　very　difficult　for　him　to　do　that　anywhere　in　the　kingdom。　so　he　decided　to　break　the　charter。

he　could　have　confined　himself　to　breaking　a　few　of　the　lesser　stones；　somewhere　far　away；　but　that　would　only　give　him　a　tiny　area　to　prey　on；　and　the　abhorsen　would　soon　hunt　him　down。

so　he　decided　to　break　the　great　stones；　and　for　that　he　needed　royal　blood—his　own　family’s　blood。　or　abhorsen’s；　or　the　clayr’s；　of　course；　but　that　would　be　much　harder　to　get。

“because　he　was　the　queen’s　son；　clever；　and　very　powerful；　he　almost　achieved　his　aims。　two　of　the　six　great　stones　were　broken。　the　queen　and　her　daughters　were　killed。　abhorsen　intervened　a　little　too　late。　true；　he　did　manage　to　drive　him　deep　into　death—but　since　his　true　body　has　never　been　found；　rogir　has　continued　to　exist。　even　from　death；　he　has　overseen　the　dissolution　of　the　kingdom—a　kingdom　without　a　royal　family；　with　one　of　the　great　charters　crippled；　corrupting　and　weakening　all　the　others。　he　wasn’t　really　beaten　that　night；　in　the　reservoir。　just　delayed；　and　for　two　hundred　years　he’s　been　trying　to　e　back；　trying　to　re…enter　life—”

“he’s　succeeded；　hasn’t　he？”　interrupted　sabriel。　“he’s　the　thing　called　kerrigor；　the　one　abhorsens　have　been　fighting　for　generations；　　trying　to　keep　in　death。　he　is　the　one　who　came　back；　the　greater　dead　who　murdered　the　patrol　near　cloven　crest；　the　master　of　the　mordicant。”

“i　do　not　know；”　replied　mogget。　“your　father　thought　so。”

“it　is　him；”　touchstone　said；　distantly。

“kerrigor　was　rogir’s　childhood　nickname。　i　made　it　up；　on　the　day　we　had　the　mud　fight。

his　full　ceremonial　name　was　rogirek。”

“he—or　his　servants—must　have　lured　my　father　to　belisaere　just　before　he　emerged　from　death；”　sabriel　thought　aloud。　“i　wonder　why　he　came　out　into　life　so　near　the　wall？”

“his　body　must　be　near　the　wall。　he　would　need　to　be　close　to　it；”　mogget　said。　“you　should　know　that。　to　renew　the　master　spell　that　prevents　him　from　ever　passing　beyond　the　final　gate。”

“yes；”　replied　sabriel；　remembering　the　passages　from　the　book　of　the　dead。　she　shivered；　but　suppressed　it；　before　it　became　a　racking　sob。　inside；　she　felt　like　screaming；　crying。　she　wanted　to　flee　back　to　ancelstierre；　cross　the　wall；　leave　the　dead　and　magic　behind；　go　as　far　south　as　possible。　but　she　quelled　these　feelings；　　and　said；　“an　abhorsen　defeated　him　once。　i　can　do　so　again。　but　first；　we　must　find　my　father’s　body。”

there　was　silence　for　a　moment；　save　for　the　wind　in　the　canvas　and　the　quiet　hum　of　the　rigging。

touchstone　wiped　his　hand　across　his　eyes　and　looked　at　mogget。

“there　is　one　thing　i　would　like　to　ask。　who　put　my　spirit　in　death；　and　made　my　body　the　figurehead？”

“i　never　knew　what　happened　to　you；”　replied　mogget。　his　green　eyes　met　touchstone’s　gaze；　and　it　wasn’t　the　cat　who　blinked。　“but　it　must　have　been　abhorsen。　you　were　insane　when　we　got　you　out　of　the　reservoir。　driven　mad；　probably　by　the　breaking　of　the　great　stones。　no　memory；　nothing。　it　seems　two　hundred　years　is　not　too　long　for　a　rest　cure。　he　must　have　seen　something　in　you—or　the　clayr　saw　something　in　the　ice　。　。　。　ah；　that　was　hard　to　say。　we　must　be　nearing　the　city；　and　the　sea’s　influence　lessens。　the　binding　resumes　。　。　。”

“no；　mogget！”　exclaimed　sabriel。　“i　want　to　know；　i　need　to　know；　who　you　are。　what’s　your　connection　with　the　great　。　。　。”

her　voice　locked　up　in　her　throat　and　a　star…　　tled　gargle　was　the　only　thing　that　came　out。

“too　late；”　said　mogget。　he　started　cleaning　his　fur；　pink　tongue　darting　out；　bright　color　against　white　fur。

sabriel　sighed；　and　looked　out　at　the　turquoise　sea；　then　up　at　the　sun；　yellow　disc　on　a　field　of　white…streaked　blue。　a　light　breeze　filled　the　sail　above　her；　ruffling　her　hair　in　passing。　gulls　rode　it　on　ahead；　to　join　a　squawking　mass　of　their　brethren；　feeding　from　a　school　of　fish；　sharp　silver　bursting　near　the　surface。

everything　was　alive；　colorful；　full　of　the　joy　of　living。　even　the　salt　tang　on　her　skin；　the　stink　of　fish　and　her　own　unwashed　body；　was　somehow　rich　and　lively。　far；　far　removed　from　touchstone’s　grim　past；　the　threat　of　rogir/kerrigor　and　the　chilling　greyness　of　death。

“we　shall　have　to　be　very　careful；”　sabriel　said　at　last；　“and　hope　that　。　。　。　what　was　it　you　said　to　the　elder　of　nestowe；　touchstone？”

he　knew　immediately　what　she　meant。

“hope　that　the　charter　preserves　us　all。”

。。



chapter　xix

，
sabriel　had　expected　belisaere　to　be　a　ruined　city；　devoid　of　life；　but　it　was　not　so。　by　the　time　they　saw　its　towers；　and　the　truly　impressive　walls　that　ringed　the　peninsula　on　which　the　city　stood；　they　also　saw　fishing　boats；　of　a　size　with　their　own。　people　were　fishing　from　them—normal；　friendly　people；　who　waved　and　shouted　as　they　passed。　only　their　greeting　was　telling　of　how　things　might　be　in　belisaere。　“good　sun　and　swift　water”　was　not　the　typical　greeting　in　touchstone’s　time。

the　city’s　main　harbor　was　reached　from　the　west。　a　wide；　buoyed　channel　ran　between　two　hulking　defensive　outworks；　leading　into　a　vast　pool；　easily　as　big　as　twenty　or　thirty　playing　fields。　wharves　lined　three　sides　of　the　pool；　but　most　were　deserted。　to　the　north　and　south；　warehouses　rotted　behind　the　empty　wharves；　broken　walls　and　holed　roofs　testimony　to　long　abandonment。

only　the　eastern　dock　looked　lively。　there　were　none　of　the　big　trading　vessels　of　bygone　days；　but　many　small　coastal　craft；　loading　and　unloading。　derricks　swung　in　and　out；　longshoremen　humped　packages　along　gangplanks；　small　children　dived　and　swam　in　between　the　boats。　no　warehouses　stood　behind　these　wharves—instead；　there　were　hundreds　of　open…topped　booths；　little　more　than　brightly　decorated　frameworks　delineating　a　patch　of　space；　with　tables　for　the　wares；　and　stools　for　the　vendors　and　favored　customers。　there　seemed　to　be　no　shortage　of　customers　in　general；　sabriel　noted；　as　touchstone　steered　for　a　vacant　berth。　people　were　swarming　everywhere；　hurrying　about　as　if　their　time　was　sadly　limited。

touchstone　let　the　mainsheet　go　slack；　and　brought　the　boat　into　the　wind　just　in　time　for　them　to　lose　way　and　glide　at　an　oblique　angle　into　the　fenders　that　lined　the　wharf。　sabriel　threw　up　a　line；　but　before　she　could　leap　ashore　　and　secure　it　to　a　bollard；　a　street　urchin　did　it　for　her。

“penny　for　the　knot；”　he　cried；　shrill　voice　piercing　through　the　hubbub　from　the　crowd。

“penny　for　the　knot；　lady？”

sabriel　smiled；　with　effort；　and　flicked　a　silver　penny　at　the　boy。　he　caught　it；　grinned　and　disappeared　into　the　stream　of　people　moving　along　the　dock。　sabriel’s　smile　faded。　she　could　feel　many；　many　dead　here　。　。　。　or　not　precisely　here；　but　further　up　in　the　city。　belisaere　was　built　upon　four　low　hills；　surrounding　a　central　valley；　which　lay　open　to　the　sea　at　this　harbor。　as　far　as　sabriel’s　senses　could　tell；　only　the　valley　was　free　of　the　dead—why；　she　didn’t　know。　the　hills；　which　made　up　at　least　two…thirds　of　the　city’s　area；　were　infested　with　them。

this　part　of　the　city；　on　the　other　hand；　could　truly　be　said　to　be　infested　with　life。　sabriel　had　forgotten　how　noisy　a　city　could　be。　even　in　ancelstierre；　she　had　rarely　visited　anyt