pp.thegoldencompass-第20部分

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ying　off　the　Tartar　chiefs　by　giving　'em　kids；　cause　the　Tartars　eat　'em；　don't　they？　They　bake　children　and　eat　〃em。〃
　　〃They　never！〃　said　Lyra。
　　〃They　do。　There's　plenty　of　other　things　to　be　told；　and　all。　You　ever　heard　of　the　Nalkainens？〃
　　Lyra　said；　〃No。　Not　even　with　Mrs。　Coulter。　What　are　they？〃
　　〃That's　a　kind　of　ghost　they　have　up　there　in　those　forests。　Same　size　as　a　child；　and　they　got　no　heads。　They　feel　their　way　about　at　night　and　if　you're　a　sleeping　out　in　the　forest　they　get　ahold　of　you　and　won't　nothing　make　'em　let　go。　Nalkainens；　that's　a　northern　word。　And　the　Windsuckers；　they're　dangerous　too。　They　drift　about　in　the　air。　You　e　across　clumps　of　'em　floated　together　sometimes；　or　caught　snagged　on　a　bramble。　As　soon　as　they　touch　you；　all　the　strength　goes　out　of　you。　You　can't　see　'em　except　as　a　kind　of　shimmer　in　the　air。　And　the　Breathless　Ones　。　。　。　〃
　　〃Who　are　they？〃
　　〃Warriors　half…killed。　Being　alive　is　one　thing；　and　being　dead's　another；　but　being　half…killed　is　worse　than　either。　They　just　can't　die；　and　living　is　altogether　beyond　'em。　They　wander　about　forever。　They're　called　the　Breathless　Ones　because　of　what's　been　done　to　'em。〃
　　〃And　what's　that？〃　said　Lyra；　wide…eyed。
　　〃The　North　Tartars　snap　open　their　ribs　and　pull　out　their　lungs。　There's　an　art　to　it。　They　do　it　without　killing　'em；　but　their　lungs　can't　work　anymore　without　their　daemons　pumping　'em　by　hand；　so　the　result　is　they're　halfway　between　breath　and　no　breath；　life　and　death；　half…killed；　you　see。　And　their　daemons　got　to　pump　and　pump　all　day　and　night；　or　else　perish　with　'em。　You　e　across　a　whole　platoon　of　Breathless　Ones　in　the　forest　sometimes；　I've　heard。　And　then　there's　the　panserbj0rne…you　heard　of　them？　That　means　armored　bears。　They're　great　white　bears；　and…〃
　　〃Yes！　I　have　heard　of　them！　One　of　the　men　last　night；　he　said　that　my　uncle；　Lord　Asriel；　he's　being　imprisoned　in　a　fortress　guarded　by　the　armored　bears。〃
　　〃Is　he；　now？　And　what　was　he　doing　up　there？〃
　　〃Exploring。　But　the　way　the　man　was　talking　I　don't　think　my　uncle's　on　the　same　side　as　the　Gobblers。　I　think　they　were　glad　he　was　in　prison。〃
　　〃Well；　he　won't　get　out　if　the　armored　bears　are　guarding　him。　They're　like　mercenaries；　you　know　what　I　mean　by　that？　They　sell　their　strength　to　whoever　pays。　They　got　hands　like　men；　and　they　learned　the　trick　of　working　iron　way　back；　meteoric　iron　mostly；　and　they　make　great　sheets　and　plates　of　it　to　cover　theirselves　with。　They　been　raiding　the　Skraelings　for　centuries。　They're　vicious　killers；　absolutely　pitiless。　But　they　keep　their　word。　If　you　make　a　bargain　with　a　panserbj0m；　you　can　rely　on　it。〃
　　Lyra　considered　these　horrors　with　awe。
　　〃Ma　don't　like　to　hear　about　the　North；〃　Tony　said　after　a　few　moments；　〃because　of　what　might've　happened　to　Billy。　We　know　they　took　him　up　north；　see。〃
　　〃How　d'you　know　that？〃
　　〃We　caught　one　of　the　Gobblers；　and　made　him　talk。　That's　how　we　know　a　little　about　what　they're　doing。　Them　two　last　night　weren't　Gobblers；　they　were　too　clumsy。　If　they'd　been　Gobblers　we'd've　took　'em　alive。　See；　the　gyptian　people；　we　been　hit　worse　than　most　by　these　Gobblers；　and　we're　a　ing　together　to　decide　what　to　do　about　it。　That's　what　we　was　doing　in　the　basin　last　night；　taking　on　stores；　'cause　we're　going　to　a　big　muster　up　in　the　fens；　what　we　call　a　roping。　And　what　I　reckon　is　we're　a　going　to　send　out　a　rescue　party；　when　we　heard　what　all　the　other　gyptians　know；　when　we　put　our　knowledge　together。　That's　what　I'd　do；　if　I　was　John　Faa。〃
　　〃Who's　John　Faa？〃
　　〃The　king　of　the　gyptians。〃
　　〃And　you're　really　going　to　rescue　the　kids？　What　about　Roger？〃
　　〃Who's　Roger？〃
　　〃The　Jordan　College　kitchen　boy。　He　was　took　same　as　Billy　the　day　before　I　e　away　with　Mrs。　Coulter。　I　bet　if　I　was　took；　he'd　e　and　rescue　me。　If　you're　going　to　rescue　Billy；　I　want　to　e　too　and　rescue　Roger。〃
　　And　Uncle　Asriel；　she　thought；　but　she　didn't　mention　that。
　　
　　
　　SEVEN
　　JOHN　FAA
　　
　　Now　that　Lyra　had　a　task　in　mind；　she　felt　much　better。　Helping　Mrs。　Coulter　had　been　all　very　well；　but　Pantalaimon　was　right：　she　wasn't　really　doing　any　work　there；　she　was　just　a　pretty　pet。　On　the　gyptian　boat；　there　was　real　work　to　do；　and　Ma　Costa　made　sure　she　did　it。　She　cleaned　and　swept；　she　peeled　potatoes　and　made　tea；　she　greased　the　propeller　shaft　bearings；　she　kept　the　weed　trap　clear　over　the　propeller；　she　washed　dishes；　she　opened　lock　gates；　she　tied　the　boat　up　at　mooring　posts；　and　within　a　couple　of　days　she　was　as　much　at　home　with　this　new　life　as　if　she'd　been　born　gyptian。
　　What　she　didn't　notice　was　that　the　Costas　were　alert　every　second　for　unusual　signs　of　interest　in　Lyra　from　the　waterside　people。　If　she　hadn't　realized　it；　she　was　important；　and　Mrs。　Coulter　and　the　Oblation　Board　were　bound　to　be　searching　everywhere　for　her。　Indeed；　Tony　heard　from　gos…sip　in　pubs　along　the　way　that　the　police　were　making　raids　on　houses　and　farms　and　building　yards　and　factories　without　any　explanation；　though　there　was　a　rumor　that　they　were　searching　for　a　missing　girl。　And　that　in　itself　was　odd；　considering　all　the　kids　that　had　gone　missing　without　being　looked　for。　Gyptians　and　land　folk　alike　were　getting　jumpy　and　nervous。
　　And　there　was　another　reason　for　the　Costas'　interest　in　Lyra；　but　she　wasn't　to　learn　that　for　a　few　days　yet。
　　So　they　took　to　keeping　her　below　decks　when　they　passed　a　lockkeeper's　cottage　or　a　canal　basin；　or　anywhere　there　were　likely　to　be　idlers　hanging　about。　Once　they　passed　through　a　town　where　the　police　were　searching　all　the　boats　that　came　along　the　waterway；　and　holding　up　the　traffic　in　both　directions。　The　Costas　were　equal　to　that；　though。　There　was　a　secret　partment　beneath　Ma's　bunk；　where　Lyra　lay　cramped　for　two　hours　while　the　police　banged　up　and　down　the　length　of　the　boat　unsuccessfully。
　　〃Why　didn't　their　daemons　find　me；　though？〃　she　asked　afterward；　and　Ma　showed　her　the　lining　of　the　secret　space：　cedarwood；　which　had　a　soporific　effect　on　daemons；　and　it　was　true　that　Pantalaimon　had　spent　the　whole　time　happily　asleep　by　Lyra's　head。
　　Slowly；　with　many　halts　and　detours；　the　Costas'　boat　drew　nearer　the　fens；　that　wide　and　never　fully　mapped　wilderness　of　huge　skies　and　endless　marshland　in　Eastern　Anglia。　The　furthest　fringe　of　it　mingled　indistinguishably　with　the　creeks　and　tidal　inlets　of　the　shallow　sea；　and　the　other　side　of　the　sea　mingled　indistinguishably　with　Holland；　and　parts　of　the　fens　had　been　drained　and　dyked　by　Hollanders；　some　of　whom　had　settled　there；　so　the　language　of　the　fens　was　thick　with　Dutch。　But　parts　had　never　been　drained　or　planted　or　settled　at　all；　and　in　the　wildest　central　regions；　where　eels　slithered　and　waterbirds　flocked；　where　eerie　marsh　fires　flick…ered　and　waylurkers　tempted　careless　travelers　to　their　doom　in　the　swamps　and　bogs；　the　gyptian　people　had　always　found　it　safe　to　muster。
　　And　now　by　a　thousand　winding　channels　and　creeks　and　watercourses；　gyptian　boats　were　moving　in　toward　the　byanplats；　the　only　patch　of　slightly　higher　ground　in　the　hundreds　of　square　miles　of　marsh　and　bog。　There　was　an　ancient　wooden　meeting　hall　there　with　a　huddle　of　permanent　dwellings　around　it；　and　wharves　and　jetties　and　an　eelmarket。
　　When　the　gyptians　called　a　byanroping…a　summons　or　muster　of　families…so　many　boats　filled　the　waterways　that　you　could　walk　for　a　mile　in　any　direction　over　their　decks；　or　so　it　was　said。　The　gyptians　ruled　in　the　fens。　No　one　else　dared　enter；　and　while　the　gyptians　kept　the　peace　and　traded　fairly；　the　landlopers　turned　a　blind　eye　to　the　incessant　smuggling　and　the　occasional　feuds。　If　a　gyptian　body　floated　ashore　down　the　coast；　or　got　snagged　in　a　fishnet；　well…it　was　only　a　gyptian。
　　Lyra　listened　enthralled　to　tales　of　the　fen　dwellers；　of　the　great　ghost　dog　Black　Shuck；　of　the　marsh　fires　arising　from　bubbles　of　witch　oil；　and　began　to　think　of　herself　as　gyptian　even　before　they　reached　the　fens。　She　had　soon　slipped　back　into　her　Oxford　voice；　and　now　she　was　acquiring　a　gyptian　one；　plete　with　Fen…Dutch　words。　Ma　Costa　had　to　remind　her　of　a　few　things。
　　〃You　en't　gyptian；　Lyra。　You　might　pass　for　gyptian　with　practice；　but　there's　more　to　us　than　gyptian　language。　There's　deeps　in　us　and　strong　currents。　We're　water　people　all　through；　and　you　en't；　you're　a　fire　person。　What　you're　most　like　is　marsh　fire；　that's　the　place　you　have　in　the　gyptian　scheme；　you　got　witch　oil　in　your　soul。　Deceptive；　that's　what　you　are；　child。〃　Lyra　was　hurt。
　　〃I　en't　never　deceived　anyone！　You　ask　。　。　。　〃　There　was　no　one　to　ask；　of　course；　and　Ma　Costa　laughed；　but　kindly。
　　〃Can't　you　see　I'm　a　paying　you　a　pliment；　you　gosling？〃　she　said；　and　Lyra　was　pacified；　though　she　didn't　understand。
　　When　they　reached　the　byanplats　it　was　evening；　and　the　sun　was　about　to　set　in　a　splash　of　bloody　sky。　The　low　island　and　the　Zaal　were　humped　blackly　against　the　light；　like　the　clustered　buildings　around；　threads　of　smoke　rose　into　the　still　air；　and　from　the　press　of　boats　all　around　came　the　smells　of　frying　fish；　of　smokel