Sabriel (The Abhorsen Trilogy)-第5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！



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　have　already　happened　。　。　。

the　arrow　on　the　sign　indicating　where　authorized　travelers　should　go　seemed　to　point　in　the　direction　of　a　bitumen　parade　ground；　lined　with　white…painted　rocks；　and　a　number　of　unprepossessing　wooden　buildings。　other　than　that；　there　were　simply　the　beginnings　of　the　munication　trenches　that　sank　into　the　ground　and　then　zigzagged　their　way　to　the　double　line　of　trenches；　blockhouses　and　fortifications　that　confronted　the　wall。

sabriel　studied　them　for　a　while；　and　saw　the　flash　of　color　as　several　soldiers　hopped　out　of　one　trench　and　went　forward　to　the　wire。　they　seemed　to　be　carrying　spears　rather　than　rifles　and　she　wondered　why　the　perimeter　was　built　for　modern　war；　but　manned　by　people　expecting　something　rather　more　medieval。　then　she　remembered　a　conversation　with　her　father　and　his　ment　that　the　perimeter　had　been　designed　far　away　in　the　south；　where　they　refused　to　admit　that　this　perimeter　was　different　from　any　other　contested　border。　up　until　a　　century　or　so　ago；　there　had　also　been　a　wall　on　the　ancelstierre　side。　a　lowish　wall；　made　of　rammed　earth　and　peat；　but　a　successful　one。

recalling　that　conversation；　her　eyes　made　out　a　low　rise　of　scarred　earth　in　the　middle　of　the　desolation　of　wire；　and　she　realized　that　was　where　the　southern　wall　had　been。　peering　at　it；　she　also　realized　that　what　she　had　taken　to　be　loose　pickets　between　lines　of　concertina　wire　were　something　different—tall　constructs　more　like　the　trunks　of　small　trees　stripped　of　every　branch。　they　seemed　familiar　to　her；　but　she　couldn’t　place　what　they　were。

sabriel　was　still　staring　at　them；　thinking；　when　a　loud　and　not　very　pleasant　voice　erupted　a　little　way　behind　her　right　ear。

“what　do　you　think　you’re　doing；　miss？　you　can’t　loiter　about　here。　on　the　bus；　or　up　to　the　tower！”

sabriel　winced　and　turned　as　quickly　as　she　could；　skis　sliding　one　way　and　stocks　the　other；　framing　her　head　in　a　st。　andrew’s　cross。　the　voice　belonged　to　a　large　but　fairly　young　soldier；　whose　bristling　mustaches　were　more　evidence　of　martial　ambition　than　proof　of　them。　he　had　two　gilded　bands　on　his　sleeve；　but　didn’t　wear　　the　mail　hauberk　and　helmet　sabriel　had　seen　on　the　other　soldiers。　he　smelled　of　shaving　cream　and　talc；　and　was　so　clean；　polished　and　full　of　himself　that　sabriel　immediately　catalogued　him　as　some　sort　of　natural　bureaucrat　currently　disguised　as　a　soldier。

“i　am　a　citizen　of　the　old　kingdom；”　she　replied　quietly；　staring　back　into　his　red　flushed　face　and　piggy　eyes　in　the　manner　which　miss　prionte　had　taught　her　girls　to　instruct　lesser　domestic　servants　in　etiquette　iv。　“i　am　returning　there。”

“papers！”　demanded　the　soldier；　after　a　moment’s　hesitation　at　the　words　“old　kingdom。”

sabriel　gave　a　frosty　smile　（also　part　of　miss　prionte’s　curriculum）　and　made　a　ritual　movement　with　the　tips　of　her　fingers—the　symbol　of　disclosing；　of　things　hidden　being　seen；　of　unfolding。　as　her　fingers　sketched；　she　formed　the　symbol　in　her　mind；　linking　it　with　the　papers　she　carried　in　the　inner　pocket　of　her　leather　tunic。　finger…sketched　and　minddrawn　symbol　merged；　and　the　papers　were　in　her　hand。　an　ancelstierre　passport；　as　well　as　the　much　rarer　document　the　ancelstierre　perimeter　mand　issued　to　people　who　had　　traffic　in　both　countries：　a　hand…bound　document　printed　by　letterpress　on　handmade　paper；　with　an　artist’s　sketch　instead　of　a　photograph　and　prints　from　thumbs　and　toes　in　a　purple　ink。

the　soldier　blinked；　but　said　nothing。　perhaps；　thought　sabriel；　as　he　took　the　proffered　documents；　the　man　thought　it　was　a　parlor　trick。　or　perhaps　he　just　didn’t　notice。　maybe　charter　magic　was　mon　here；　so　close　to　the　wall。

the　man　looked　through　her　documents　carefully；　but　without　real　interest。　sabriel　now　felt　certain　that　he　was　no　one　important　from　the　way　he　pawed　through　her　special　passport。　he’d　obviously　never　seen　one　before。　mischievously；　she　started　to　weave　the　charter　mark　for　a　snatch；　or　catch；　to　flick　the　papers　out　of　his　hands　and　back　into　her　pocket　before　his　piggy　eyes　worked　out　what　was　going　on。

but；　in　the　first　second　of　motion；　she　felt　the　flare　of　other　charter　magic　to　either　side　and　behind　her—and　heard　the　clattering　of　hobnails　on　the　bitumen。　her　head　snapped　back　from　the　papers；　and　she　felt　her　hair　whisk　across　her　forehead　as　she　looked　from　side　to　side。　soldiers　were　pouring　out　of　the　　huts　and　out　of　the　trenches；　sword…bayonets　in　their　hands　and　rifles　at　the　shoulder。

several　of　them　wore　badges　that　she　realized　marked　them　as　charter　mages。　their　fingers　were　weaving　warding　symbols；　and　barriers　that　would　lock　sabriel　into　her　footsteps；　tie　her　to　her　shadow。　crude　magic；　but　strongly　cast。

instinctively；　sabriel’s　mind　and　hands　flashed　into　the　sequence　of　symbols　that　would　wipe　clean　these　bonds；　but　her　skis　shifted　and　fell　into　the　crook　of　her　elbow；　and　she　winced　at　the　blow。

at　the　same　time；　a　soldier　ran　ahead　of　the　others；　sunlight　glinting　on　the　silver　stars　on　his　helmet。

“stop！”　he　shouted。　“corporal；　step　back　from　her！”

the　corporal；　deaf　to　the　hum　of　charter　magic；　blind　to　the　flare　of　half…wrought　signs；　looked　up　from　her　papers　and　gaped　for　a　second；　fear　erasing　his　features。　he　dropped　the　passports；　and　stumbled　back。

in　his　face；　sabriel　suddenly　realized　what　it　meant　to　use　magic　on　the　perimeter；　and　she　held　herself　absolutely　still；　blanking　out　the　　partly　made　signs　in　her　mind。　her　skis　slipped　further　down　her　arm；　the　bindings　catching　for　a　moment　before　tearing　loose　and　clattering　onto　the　ground。　soldiers　rushed　forward　and；　in　seconds；　formed　a　ring　around　her；　swords　angled　towards　her　throat。

she　saw　streaks　of　silver；　plated　onto　the　blades；　and　crudely　written　charter　symbols；　and　understood。　these　weapons　were　made　to　kill　things　that　were　already　dead—inferior　versions　of　the　sword　she　wore　at　her　own　side。

the　man　who’d　shouted—an　officer；　sabriel　realized—bent　down　and　picked　up　her　passports。

he　studied　them　for　a　moment；　then　looked　up　at　sabriel。　his　eyes　were　pale　blue　and　held　a　mixture　of　harshness　and　passion　that　sabriel　found　familiar；　though　she　couldn’t　place　it—till　she　remembered　her　father’s　eyes。

abhorsen’s　eyes　were　so　dark　brown　they　seemed　black；　but　they　held　a　similar　feeling。

the　officer　closed　the　passport；　tucked　it　in　his　belt　and　tilted　his　helmet　back　with　two　fingers；　revealing　a　charter　mark　still　glowing　with　some　residual　charm　of　warding。　cautiously；　sabriel　lifted　her　hand；　and　then；　as　he　didn’t　dissuade　　her；　reached　out　with　two　fingers　to　touch　the　mark。　as　she　did　so；　he　reached　forward　and　touched　her　own—sabriel　felt　the　familiar　swirl　of　energy；　and　the　feeling　of　falling　into　some　endless　galaxy　of　stars。　but　the　stars　here　were　charter　symbols；　linked　in　some　great　dance　that　had　no　beginning　or　end；　but　contained　and　described　the　world　in　its　movement。　sabriel　knew　only　a　small　fraction　of　the　symbols；　but　she　knew　what　they　danced；　and　she　felt　the　purity　of　the　charter　wash　over　her。

“an　unsullied　charter　mark；”　the　officer　pronounced　loudly；　as　their　fingers　fell　back　to　their　sides。　“she　is　no　creature　or　sending。”

the　soldiers　fell　back；　sheathing　swords　and　clicking　on　safety　catches。　only　the　red…faced　corporal　didn’t　move；　his　eyes　still　staring　at　sabriel；　as　if　he　was　unsure　what　he　was　looking　at。

“show’s　over；　corporal；”　said　the　officer；　his　voice　and　eyes　now　harsh。　“get　back　to　the　pay　office。　you’ll　see　stranger　happenings　than　this　in　your　time　here—stay　clear　of　them　and　you　might　stay　alive！　“so；”　he　said；　taking　the　documents　from　his　belt　and　handing　them　back　to　sabriel。　“you　are　　the　daughter　of　abhorsen。　i　am　colonel　horyse；　the　mander　of　a　small　part　of　the　garrison　here—a　unit　the　army　likes　to　call　the　northern　perimeter　reconaissance　unit　and　everyone　else　calls　the　crossing　point　scouts—a　somewhat　motley　collection　of　ancelstierrans　who’ve　managed　to　gain　a　charter　mark　and　some　small　knowledge　of　magic。”

“pleased　to　meet　you；　sir；”　popped　out　of　sabriel’s　school…trained　mouth；　before　she　could　stifle　it。　a　schoolgirl’s　answer；　she　knew；　and　felt　a　blush　rise　in　her　pale　cheeks。

“likewise；”　said　the　colonel；　bending　down。

“may　i　take　your　skis？”

“if　you　would　be　so　kind；”　said　sabriel；　falling　back　on　formality。

the　colonel　picked　them　up　with　ease；　carefully　retied　the　stocks　to　the　skis；　refastened　the　bindings　that　had　e　undone　and　tucked　the　lot　under　one　muscular　arm。

“i　take　it　you　intend　to　cross　into　the　old　kingdom？”　asked　horyse；　as　he　found　the　balancing　point　of　his　load　and　pointed　at　the　scarlet　sign　on　the　far　side　of　the　parade　ground。　“we’ll　have　to　check　in　with　perimeter　hq—there　are　a　few　formalities；　but　it　shouldn’t　take　long。

is　someone　。　。　。　abhorsen；　ing　to　meet　you？”

his　voice　faltered　a　little　as　he　mentioned　abhorsen；　a　strange　stutter　in　so　confident　a　man。　sabrie