Sabriel (The Abhorsen Trilogy)-第4章

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nder。

sabriel　looked　after　it；　hearing　the　roar　of　the　first　gate　suddenly　increase　as　it　always　did　when　someone　passed　its　falls。　she　turned　and　started　to　slog　back　against　the　current　to　a　point　where　she　could　easily　return　to　life。　the　sack　in　her　hand　was　heavy　and　there　was　a　leaden　feeling　in　her　stomach。　if　the　messenger　was　truly　abhorsen’s；　then　he　himself　was　unable　to　return　to　the　realm　of　the　living。

and　that　meant　he　was　either　dead；　or　trapped　by　something　that　should　have　passed　beyond　the　final　gate。

once　again；　a　wave　of　nausea　overcame　her　and　sabriel　fell　to　her　knees；　shaking。　she　could　feel　the　magistrix’s　hand　on　her　shoulder；　but　her　attention　was　fastened　on　the　sack　she　held　in　her　hand。　she　didn’t　need　to　look　to　know　that　the　creature　was　gone。　its　manifestation　into　the　　living　world　had　ceased　as　its　spirit　had　gone　past　the　first　gate。　only　a　pile　of　grave　mold　would　remain；　to　be　swept　aside　in　the　morning。

“what　did　you　do？”　asked　the　magistrix；　as　sabriel　brushed　her　hands　through　her　hair；　ice　crystals　falling　from　her　hands　onto　the　sack　that　lay　in　front　of　her　knees。

“it　had　a　message　for　me；”　replied　sabriel。　“so　i　took　it。”

she　opened　the　sack；　and　reached　inside。　a　sword　hilt　met　her　grasp；　so　she　drew　it　out；　still　scabbarded；　and　put　it　to　one　side。　she　didn’t　need　to　draw　it　to　see　the　charter　symbols　etched　along　its　blade—the　dull　emerald　in　the　pommel　and　the　worn　bronze…plated　crossguard　were　as　familiar　to　her　as　the　school’s　uninspired　cutlery。　it　was　abhorsen’s　sword。

the　leather　bandolier　she　drew　out　next　was　an　old　brown　belt；　a　hand’s…breadth　wide；　which　always　smelled　faintly　of　beeswax。　seven　tubular　leather　pouches　hung　from　it；　starting　with　one　the　size　of　a　small　pill　bottle；　growing　larger；　till　the　seventh　was　almost　the　size　of　a　jar。　the　bandolier　was　designed　to　be　worn　across　the　chest；　with　the　pouches　hanging　down。　sabriel　opened　the　smallest　and　pulled　out　a　tiny　silver　bell；　with　　　a　dark；　deeply　polished　mahogany　handle。　she　held　it　gently；　but　the　clapper　still　swung　slightly；　and　the　bell　made　a　high；　sweet　note　that　somehow　lingered　in　the　mind；　even　after　the　sound　was　gone。

“father’s　instruments；”　whispered　sabriel。

“the　tools　of　a　necromancer。”

“but　there　are　charter　marks　engraved　on　the　bell　。　。　。　and　the　handle！”　interjected　the　magistrix；　who　was　looking　down　with　fascination。

“necromancy　is　free　magic；　not　governed　by　the　charter　。　。　。”

“father’s　was　different；”　replied　sabriel　distantly；　still　staring　at　the　bell　she　held　in　her　hand；　thinking　of　her　father’s　brown；　lined　hands　holding　the　bells。　“binding；　not　raising。　he　was　a　faithful　servant　of　the　charter。”

“you’re　going　to　be　leaving　us；　aren’t　you？”

the　magistriaid　suddenly；　as　sabriel　replaced　the　bell　and　stood　up；　sword　in　one　hand；　bandolier　in　the　other。　“i　just　saw　it；　in　the　reflection　of　the　bell。　you　were　crossing　the　wall　。　。　。”

“yes。　into　the　old　kingdom；”　said　sabriel；　with　sudden　realization。　“something　has　happened　to　father　。　。　。　but　i’ll　find　him　。　。　。　so　i　swear　by　the　charter　i　bear。”

she　touched　the　charter　mark　on　her　forehead；　which　glowed　briefly；　and　then　faded　so　that　it　might　never　have　been。　the　magistrix　nodded　and　touched　a　hand　to　her　own　forehead；　where　a　glowing　mark　suddenly　obscured　all　the　patterns　of　time。　as　it　faded；　rustling　noises　and　faint　whimpers　began　to　sound　along　both　sides　of　the　dormitory。

“i’ll　shut　the　door　and　explain　to　the　girls；”　the　magistriaid　firmly。　“you’d　better　go　and　。　。　。

prepare　for　tomorrow。”

sabriel　nodded　and　left；　trying　to　fix　her　mind　on　the　practicalities　of　the　journey；　rather　than　on　what　could　have　happened　to　her　father。

she　would　take　a　cab　as　early　as　possible　into　bain；　the　nearest　town；　and　then　a　bus　to　the　ancelstierre　perimeter　that　faced　the　wall。　with　luck；　she　would　be　there　by　early　afternoon　。　。　。

behind　these　plans；　her　thoughts　kept　jumping　back　to　abhorsen。　what　could　have　happened　to　trap　him　in　death？　and　what　could　she　really　hope　to　do　about　it；　even　if　she　did　get　to　the　old　kingdom？　

　。。　



chapter　ii

…。网
the　perimeter　in　ancelstierre　ran　from　coast　to　coast；　parallel　to　the　wall　and　perhaps　half　a　mile　from　it。　concertina　wire　lay　like　worms　impaled　on　rusting　steel　pickets；　forward　defenses　for　an　interlocking　network　of　trenches　and　concrete　pillboxes。　many　of　these　strong　points　were　designed　to　control　the　ground　behind　them　as　well　as　in　front；　and　almost　as　much　barbed　wire　stretched　behind　the　trenches；　guarding　the　rear。

in　fact；　the　perimeter　was　much　more　successful　at　keeping　people　from　ancelstierre　out　of　the　old　kingdom；　than　it　was　at　preventing　things　from　the　old　kingdom　going　the　other　way。

anything　powerful　enough　to　cross　the　wall　usually　retained　enough　magic　to　assume　the　shape　of　a　soldier；　or　to　bee　invisible　and　simply　go　where　it　willed；　regardless　of　barbed　wire；　bullets；　hand　grenades　and　mortar　bombs—which　often　didn’t　work　at　all；　particularly　when　the　wind　was　blowing　from　the　north；　out　of　the　old　kingdom。

due　to　the　unreliability　of　technology；　the　ancelstierran　soldiers　of　the　perimeter　garrison　wore　mail　over　their　khaki　battledress；　had　nasal　and　neck　bars　on　their　helmets　and　carried　extremely　old…fashioned　sword…bayonets　in　wellworn　scabbards。　shields；　or　more　correctly；　“bucklers；　small；　perimeter　garrison　only；”　were　carried　on　their　backs；　the　factory　khaki　long　since　submerged　under　brightly　painted　regimental　or　personal　signs。　camouflage　was　not　considered　an　issue　at　this　particular　posting。

sabriel　watched　a　platoon　of　young　soldiers　march　past　the　bus；　while　she　waited　for　the　tourists　ahead　of　her　to　stampede　out　the　front　door；　and　wondered　what　they　thought　of　their　strange　duties。　most　would　have　to　be　conscripts　from　far　to　the　south；　where　no　magic　crept　over　the　wall　and　widened　the　cracks　in　what　they　thought　of　as　reality。　here；　she　could　feel　magic　potential　brewing；　lurking　in　the　atmosphere　like　　charged　air　before　a　thunderstorm。

the　wall　itself　looked　normal　enough；　past　the　wasteland　of　wire　and　trenches。　just　like　any　other　medieval　remnant。　it　was　stone　and　old；　about　forty　feet　high　and　crenellated。　nothing　remarkable；　until　the　realization　set　in　that　it　was　in　a　perfect　state　of　preservation。　and　for　those　with　the　sight；　the　very　stones　crawled　with　charter　marks—marks　in　constant　motion；　twisting　and　turning；　sliding　and　rearranging　themselves　under　a　skin　of　stone。

the　final　confirmation　of　strangeness　lay　beyond　the　wall。　it　was　clear　and　cool　on　the　ancelstierre　side；　and　the　sun　was　shining—but　sabriel　could　see　snow　falling　steadily　behind　the　wall；　and　snow…heavy　clouds　clustered　right　up　to　the　wall；　where　they　suddenly　stopped；　as　if　some　mighty　weather…knife　had　simply　sheared　through　the　sky。

sabriel　watched　the　snow　fall；　and　gave　thanks　for　her　almanac。　printed　by　letterpress；　the　type　had　left　ridges　in　the　thick；　linen…rich　paper；　making　the　many　handwritten　annotations　waver　precariously　between　the　lines。　one　spidery　remark；　written　in　a　hand　she　knew　wasn’t　her　father’s；　gave　the　weather　to　be　expected　　under　the　respective　calendars　for　each　country。

ancelstierre　had　“autumn。　likely　to　be　cool。”

the　old　kingdom　had　“winter。　bound　to　be　snowing。　skis　or　snowshoes。”

the　last　tourist　left；　eager　to　reach　the　observation　platform。　although　the　army　and　the　government　discouraged　tourists；　and　there　was　no　acmodation　for　them　within　twenty　miles　of　the　wall；　one　busload　a　day　was　allowed　to　e　and　view　the　wall　from　a　tower　located　well　behind　the　lines　of　the　perimeter。

even　this　concession　was　often　cancelled；　for　when　the　wind　blew　from　the　north；　the　bus　would　inexplicably　break　down　a　few　miles　short　of　the　tower；　and　the　tourists　would　have　to　help　push　it　back　towards　bain—only　to　see　it　start　again　just　as　mysteriously　as　it　stopped。

the　authorities　also　made　some　slight　allowance　for　the　few　people　authorized　to　travel　from　ancelstierre　to　the　old　kingdom；　as　sabriel　saw　after　she　had　successfully　negotiated　the　bus’s　steps　with　her　backpack；　crosscountry　skis；　stocks　and　sword；　all　threatening　to　go　in　different　directions。　a　large　sign　next　to　the　bus　stop　proclaimed：　　perimeter　mand　northern　army　group　unauthorized　egress　from　the　perimeter　zone　is　strictly　forbidden。

anyone　attempting　to　cross　the　perimeter　zone　will　be　shot　without　warning。

authorized　travelers　must　report　to　the　perimeter　mand　h。q。

remember—　no　warning　will　be　made　sabriel　read　the　note　with　interest；　and　felt　a　quickening　sense　of　excitement　start　within　her。

her　memories　of　the　old　kingdom　were　dim；　from　the　perspective　of　a　child；　but　she　felt　a　sense　of　mystery　and　wonder　kindle　with　the　force　of　the　charter　magic　she　felt　around　her—　a　sense　of　something　so　much　more　alive　than　the　bitumened　parade　ground；　and　the　scarlet　warning　sign。　and　much　more　freedom　than　wyverley　college。

but　that　feeling　of　wonder　and　excitement　　came　laced　with　a　dread　that　she　couldn’t　shake；　a　dread　made　up　of　fear　for　what　might　be　happening　to　her　father　。　。　。　what　might