Sabriel (The Abhorsen Trilogy)-第7章

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father　had　many　enemies；　not　just　among　the　dead。　petty　necromancers；　free　magic　sorcerers；　witches—”

“you　don’t　seem　disturbed　by　your　lack　of　directions；”　interrupted　the　colonel　dryly。　for　the　first　time；　a　hint　of　doubt；　even　fatherly　condescension；　had　crept　into　his　voice；　as　if　sabriel’s　youth　undermined　the　respect　due　to　her　as　both　a　charter　mage　and　necromancer。

“father　taught　me　to　how　to　call　a　guide　who　will　give　me　directions；”　replied　sabriel　coolly。

“and　i　know　it’s　less　than　four　days’　travel　away。”

that　silenced　horyse；　at　least　for　the　moment。

he　nodded　and；　standing　cautiously；　so　his　head　didn’t　hit　the　exposed　beams　of　the　dugout；　he　walked　over　to　a　steel　filing　cabinet　that　was　rusting　from　the　dark　brown　mud　that　oozed　between　the　pale　planks　of　the　revetment。

opening　the　cabinet　with　a　practiced　heave　of　considerable　force；　he　found　a　mimeographed　　map　and　rolled　it　out　on　the　table。

“we’ve　never　been　able　to　get　our　hands　on　a　genuine　old　kingdom　map。　your　father　had　one；　but　he　was　the　only　person　who　could　see　anything　on　it—it　just　looked　like　a　square　of　calfskin　to　me。　a　small　magic；　he　said；　but　since　he　couldn’t　teach　it；　perhaps　not　so　small　。　。　。

anyway；　this　map　is　a　copy　of　the　latest　version　of　our　patrol　map；　so　it　only　goes　out　about　ten　miles　from　the　crossing　point。　the　garrison　standing　orders　strictly　forbid　us　to　go　further。

patrols　tend　not　to　e　back　beyond　that　distance。

maybe　they　desert；　or　maybe　。　。　。”

his　tone　of　voice　suggested　that　even　nastier　things　happened　to　the　patrols；　but　sabriel　didn’t　question　him。　a　small　portion　of　the　old　kingdom　lay　spread　out　on　the　table　and；　once　again；　excitement　stirred　up　within　her。

“we　generally　go　out　along　the　old　north　road；”　said　horyse；　tracing　it　with　one　hand；　the　sword　calluses　on　his　fingers　rasping　across　the　map；　like　the　soft　sandpapering　of　a　master　craftsman。　“then　the　patrols　sweep　back；　either　south…east　or　south…west；　till　they　hit　the　wall。

then　they　follow　that　back　to　the　gate。”

“what　does　this　symbol　mean？”　asked　sabriel；　　　pointing　to　a　blacked…in　square　atop　one　of　the　farther　hills。

“that’s　a　charter　stone；”　replied　the　colonel。

“or　part　of　one　now。　it　was　riven　in　two；　as　if　struck　by　lightning；　a　month　or　so　ago。　the　patrols　have　started　to　call　it　cloven　crest；　and　they　avoid　it　if　possible。　its　true　name　is　barhedrin　hill　and　the　stone　once　carried　the　charter　for　a　village　of　the　same　name。　before　my　time；　anyway。　if　the　village　still　exists　it　must　be　further　north；　beyond　the　reach　of　our　patrols。　we’ve　never　had　any　reports　of　inhabitants　from　it　ing　south　to　cloven　crest。　the　fact　is；　we　have　few　reports　of　people；　fullstop。

the　garrison　log　used　to　show　considerable　interaction　with　old　kingdom　people—farmers；　merchants；　travelers　and　so　on—but　encounters　have　bee　rarer　over　the　last　hundred　years；　and　very　rare　in　the　last　twenty。　the　patrols　would　be　lucky　to　see　even　two　or　three　people　a　year　now。　real　people　that　is；　not　creatures　or　free　magic　constructs；　or　the　dead。　we　see　far　too　many　of　those。”

“i　don’t　understand；”　muttered　sabriel。　“father　often　used　to　talk　of　villages　and　towns　。　。　。　even　cities；　in　the　old　kingdom。　i　remember　some　of　them　from　my　childhood　。　。　。　well；　i　sort　of　remember　。　。　。　i　think。”

“further　into　the　old　kingdom；　certainly；”

replied　the　colonel。　“the　records　mention　quite　a　few　names　of　towns　and　cities。　we　know　that　the　people　up　there　call　the　area　around　the　wall　‘the　borderlands。’　and　they　don’t　say　it　with　any　fondness。”

sabriel　didn’t　answer；　bending　her　head　lower　over　the　map；　thinking　about　the　journey　that　lay　ahead　of　her。　cloven　crest　might　be　a　good　waypoint。　it　was　no　more　than　eight　miles　away；　so　she　should　be　able　to　ski　there　before　nightfall　if　she　left　fairly　soon；　and　if　it　wasn’t　snowing　too　hard　across　the　wall。　a　broken　charter　stone　did　not　bode　well；　but　there　would　be　some　magic　there　and　the　path　into　death　would　be　easier　to　tread。　charter　stones　were　often　erected　where　free　magic　flowed　and　crossroads　of　the　free　magic　currents　were　often　natural　doorways　into　the　realm　of　death。　sabriel　felt　a　shiver　inch　up　her　spine　at　the　thought　of　what　might　use　such　a　doorway　and　the　tremor　passed　through　to　her　fingers　on　the　map。

she　looked　up　suddenly；　and　saw　colonel　　horyse　looking　at　her　long；　pale　hands；　the　heavy　paper　of　the　map　still　shuddering　at　her　touch。　with　an　effort　of　will；　she　stilled　the　movement。

“i　have　a　daughter　almost　your　age；”　he　said　quietly。　“back　in　corvere；　with　my　wife。　i　would　not　let　her　cross　into　the　old　kingdom。”

sabriel　met　his　gaze；　and　her　eyes　were　not　the　uncertain；　flickering　beacons　of　adolescence。

“i　am　only　eighteen　years　old　on　the　outside；”

she　said；　touching　her　palm　against　her　breast　with　an　almost　wistful　motion。　“but　i　first　walked　in　death　when　i　was　twelve。　i　encountered　a　fifth　gate　rester　when　i　was　fourteen；　and　banished　it　beyond　the　ninth　gate。　when　i　was　sixteen　i　stalked　and　banished　a　mordicant　that　came　near　the　school。　a　weakened　mordicant；　but　still　。　。　。　a　year　ago；　i　turned　the　final　page　of　the　book　of　the　dead。　i　don’t　feel　young　anymore。”

“i　am　sorry　for　that；”　said　the　colonel；　then；　almost　as　if　he　had　surprised　himself；　he　added；　“ah；　i　mean　that　i　wish　you　some　of　the　foolish　joys　my　daughter　has—some　of　the　lightness；　the　lack　of　responsibility　that　goes　with　youth。　but　i　don’t　wish　it　if　it　will　weaken　you　in　the　times　ahead。　you　have　chosen　a　difficult　path。”

“‘does　the　walker　choose　the　path；　or　the　path　the　walker？’”　sabriel　quoted；　the　words；　redolent　with　echoes　of　charter　magic；　twining　around　her　tongue　like　some　lingering　spice。　those　words　were　the　dedication　in　the　front　of　her　almanac。

they　were　also　the　very　last　words；　all　alone　on　the　last　page；　of　the　book　of　the　dead。

“i’ve　heard　that　before；”　remarked　horyse。

“what　does　it　mean？”

“i　don’t　know；”　said　sabriel。

“it　holds　power　when　you　say　it；”　added　the　colonel　slowly。　he　swallowed；　open…mouthed；　as　if　the　taste　of　the　charter　marks　was　still　in　the　air。　“if　i　spoke　those　words；　that’s　all　they　would　be。　just　words。”

“i　can’t　explain　it。”　sabriel　shrugged；　and　attempted　a　smile。　“but　i　do　know　other　sayings　that　are　more　to　the　point　at　the　moment；　like：　‘traveler；　embrace　the　morning　light；　but　do　not　take　the　hand　of　night。’　i　must　be　on　my　way。”

horyse　smiled　at　the　old　rhyme；　so　beloved　of　grandmothers　and　nannies；　but　it　was　an　empty　smile。　his　eyes　slid　a　little　away　from　sabriel’s　and　she　knew　that　he　was　thinking　about　refusing　to　let　her　cross　the　wall。　then　he　sighed；　the　short；　huffy　sigh　of　a　man　who　is　forced　into　a　　course　of　action　through　lack　of　alternatives。

“your　papers　are　in　order；”　he　said；　meeting　her　gaze　once　again。　“and　you　are　the　daughter　of　abhorsen。　i　cannot　do　other　than　let　you　pass。

but　i　can’t　help　feeling　that　i　am　thrusting　you　out　to　meet　some　terrible　danger。　i　can’t　even　send　a　patrol　out　with　you；　since　we　have　five　full　patrols　already　out　there。”

“i　expected　to　go　alone；”　replied　sabriel。　she　had　expected　that；　but　felt　a　tinge　of　regret。　a　protective　group　of　soldiers　would　be　quite　a　fort。　the　fear　of　being　alone　in　a　strange　and　dangerous　land；　even　if　it　was　her　homeland；　was　only　just　below　the　level　of　her　excitement。

it　wouldn’t　take　much　for　the　fear　to　rise　over　it。

and　always；　there　was　the　picture　of　her　father　in　her　mind。　her　father　in　trouble；　trapped　and　alone　in　the　chill　waters　of　death　。　。　。

“very　well；”　said　horyse。　“sergeant！”

a　helmeted　head　appeared　suddenly　around　the　doorway；　and　sabriel　realized　two　soldiers　must　have　been　standing　on　guard　outside　the　dugout；　on　the　steps　up　into　the　munication　trench。　she　wondered　if　they’d　heard。

“prepare　a　crossing　party；”　snapped　horyse。

“a　single　person　to　cross。　miss　abhorsen；　here。

and　sergeant；　if　you　or　private　rahise　so　much　as　talk　in　your　sleep　about　what　you　may　have　heard　here；　then　you’ll　be　on　gravedigging　fatigues　for　the　rest　of　your　lives！”

“yes；　sir！”　came　the　sharp　reply；　echoed　by　the　unfortunate　private　rahise；　who；　sabriel　noted；　did　seem　half…asleep。

“after　you；　please；”　continued　horyse；　gesturing　towards　the　door。　“may　i　carry　your　skis　again？”

the　army　took　no　chances　when　it　came　to　crossing　the　wall。　sabriel　stood　alone　under　the　great　arch　of　the　gate　that　pierced　the　wall；　but　archers　stood　or　knelt　in　a　reverse　arrowhead　formation　around　the　gate；　and　a　dozen　swordsmen　had　gone　ahead　with　colonel　horyse。　a　hundred　yards　behind　her；　past　a　zigzagged　lane　of　barbed　wire；　two　lewyn　machine…gunners　watched　from　a　forward　emplacement—though　sabriel　noted　they　had　drawn　their　swordbayonets　and　thrust　them；　ready　for　use；　in　the　sandbags；　showing　little　faith　in　their　air…cooled　…rounds…per…minute　tools　of　destruction。

there　was　no　actual　gate　in　the　archway；　though　rusting　hinges　swung　like　mechanical　hands　on　either　side　and　sharp　shards　of　oak　　thrust　out　of　the　ground；　like　teeth　in　a　broken　jaw；　testimony　to　some　explosion　of　mod