fs.thefirstbookofswords-第5部分

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rst　wife　had　died　trying　to　give　birth　to　their　third　child。　What　would　Jord　think　now　if　he　knew　that　it　might　have　been　the　Duke。。。
　　　And　then　the　dream；　into　which　this　latest　set　of　labor　pangs　had　been　transformed；　took　over　firmly。　There　was　a　shrill　magical　chanting　in　new　voices；　the　voices　of　invisible　beings　who　were　marching　round　Mala's　bed。　Jord　and　the　priestess　and　all　other　human　beings　were　gone；　but　Mala　had　no　time　to　be　concerned　about　that；　because　there　were　too　many　purely　delightful　things　to　claim　all　of　her　attention；　here　in　the　flower　garden　where　she　was　lying　now。。。
　　　The　chanting　rose；　but　other　voices；　in　unmusical　dispute；　were　intruding　upon　it；　too　loudly　for　any　music　to　have　covered　them　up：　They　sounded　angry；　as　if　the　dispute　was　starting　to　get　serious。。。
　　　There　were　flowers　heaped　and　scattered　around　Mala　on　all　sides；　great　masses　of　blooms；　including　kinds　that　she　had　never　seen　or　even　imagined　before；　prodigally　disposed。　She　lay　on　her　back　on　a　…　what　was　it？　a　bed？　a　bier？　a　table？　…　and　around　her；　beyond　the　banks　of　flowers；　the　gods　themselves　were　furiously　debating。
　　　She　was　able　to　understand　just　enough　of　what　they　said　to　grasp　the　fact　that　some　of　the　gods　and　goddesses　were　angry；　unhappy　with　some　of　the　things　that　Ardneh　had　been　doing　to　help　her　…　whatever　those　things　were。　From　where　Mala　lay；　she　could　see　no　more　of　Ardneh　than　his　head　and　shoulders；　but　she　could　tell　from　even　this　partial　view　that　he　was　bigger　than　any　of　the　other　deities。　The　face　of　Ardneh；　Demon…Slayer；　Hospitaller；　bearer　of　a　thousand　other　names　besides；　was　inhumanly　broad　and　huge；　and　something　about　it　made　Mala　think　of　mill…machinery；　the　largest　and　most　plex　mechanism　with　which　she　was　at　all　familiar。
　　　She　thought　that　she　could　recognize　some　of　the　others　in　the　debate　also。　Notably　the　Smith；　by　the　great　forge…hammer　in　his　hand；　and　his　singed　leather　clothes；　and　above　all　by　his　twisted　leg。　For　Jord's　sake；　Mala　feared　and　hated　Vulcan。　Of　course　at　the　moment　she　was　too　drugged　to　feel　very　much　about　anyone　or　anything。　And　anyway　the　Smith　never　bothered　to　look　at　her；　though　he　was　bitterly　opposing　Ardneh。　The　argument　between　the　two　factions　of　the　gods　went　on；　but　to　Mala's　perception　its　details　gradually　grew　even　less　clear。
　　　And　now　it　seemed　to　Mala　that　her　babe　had　already　been　born；　and　that　he　lay　before　her　already　cleaned　and　diapered；　his　raw　belly　bound　with　a　proper　bandage。　Ardneh's　faction　had　prevailed；　at　least　for　the　time　being。　The　baby's　blue　eyes　were　open；　his　small　perfect　hands　were　reaching　for　Mala's　breast。　The　masked　figure　of　his　father　stood　in　the　background；　and　said　proudly：　〃My　son；　Mark。〃　It　was　one　of　the　names　Mala　had　discussed　with　Jord；　one　that　appeared　already　in　both　their　families。
　　　〃When　the　time　es；〃　said　the　voice　of　Ardneh　now；　blotting　out　all　other　sounds　（and　the　tones　of　this　voice　reminded　Mala　somehow　of　the　voice　of　her　dead　father）；　〃When　the　time　es；　your　first…born　son　will　take　the　sword。　And　you　must　let　him　go　with　it　where　he　will。〃
　　　〃His　name　is　Mark；〃　said　the　figure　of　the　masked　man　in　the　dream。　〃My　mark　is　on　him；　and　he　is　mine。〃
And　Mala　cried　aloud；　and　awoke　slowly　from　her　drugged　and　enchanted　dream；　to　be　told　that　her　first…born　son　was　doing　just　fine。
Chapter　1
　　　One　day　in　the　middle　of　his　thirteenth　summer；　Mark　came　home　from　a　morning's　rabbit…hunting　with　his　older　brother　Kenn　to　discover　that　visitors　were　in　their　village。　To　judge　from　their　mounts；　the　visitors　were　unlike　any　that　Mark　had　ever　seen　before。
　　　Kenn；　five　years　the　older　of　the　two；　stopped　so　suddenly　in　the　narrow　riverside　path　that　Mark；　following　lost　in　thought；　almost　ran　into　him。　This　was　just　at　the　place　where　the　path　came　out　of　the　wild　growth　on　the　steep　riverbank；　and　turned　into　the　beginning　of　the　village's　single　street。　From　this　point　it　was　possible　to　see　the　four　strange　riding…beasts；　two　of　them　armored　in　chainmail　like　cavalry　steeds；　the　other　two　caparisoned　in　rich　cloth。　All　four　were　hitched　to　the　munity　rack　that　stood　in　front　of　the　house　of　the　chief　elder　of　the　village。　That　hitching　rack　was　still　an　arrowshot　away；　the　street　of　Arinon　Aldan　was　longer　than　streets　usually　were　in　small　villages；　because　here　the　town　was　strung　out　narrowly　along　one　bank　of　a　river。　 〃Look；〃　said　Mark；　unnecessarily。
　　　〃I　wonder　who　they　are；〃　said　Kenn；　and　caught　his　lower　lip　between　his　teeth。　That　was　a　thing　he　did　when　he　was　nervous。　Today　had　not　been　a　good　day　for　Kenn；　so　far。　There　were　no　arrows　left　in　the　quiver　on　his　back；　and　only　one　middle…sized　rabbit　in　the　gamebag　at　his　side。　And　now；　this　discovery　of　highborn　visitors。　The　last　time　the　brothers　had　e　home　from　hunting　to　find　the　mount　of　an　important　personage　tied　up　at　the　elder's　rack；　it　had　been　Sir　Sharfa　who　was　visiting。　The　knight　had　e　down　from　the　manor　to　investigate　a　report　that　Kenn　and　Mark　had　been　seen　poaching；　or　trying　to　poach；　in　his　game　preserves。　There　were　treasures　living　in　there；　hybrid　beasts；　meant　perhaps　as　someday　presents　for　the　Duke；　exotic　creatures　whose　death　could　well　mean　death　for　any　moner　who'd　killed　them。　In　the　end；　Sir　Sharfa　hadn't　believed　the　false；　anonymous　charges；　but　it　had　been　a　scare。　。
　　　Mark　at　twelve　was　somewhat　taller　than　the　average　for　his　age；　though　as　yet　he'd　attained　nothing　like　Kenn's　gangling　height。　If　Mark　bore　no　striking　resemblance　to　Jord；　the　man　he　called　his　father；　still　there　was　…　to　his　mother's　secret　and　intense　relief　…　no　notable　dissimilarity　either。　Mark's　face　was　still　childround；　his　body　form　still　childishly　indeterminate。　His　eyes　were　bluish　gray；　his　hair　straight　and　fair；　though　it　had　begun　a　gradual。　darkening；　into　what　promised　to　be　dark　brown　by　the　time　that　he　was　fully　grown：
　　　〃Not　anyone　from　the　manor　this　time；〃　said　Kenn。　looking　more　carefully　at　the　accoutrements　of　the　four　animals。　Somewhat　reassured；　he　moved　forward　into　the　open　village　street；　taking　an　increasing　interest　in　the　novelty。
　　　〃Sir　Sharfa's　elsewhere　anyway；〃　put　in　Mark；　tagging　along。　〃They　say　he's　traveling　on　some　business　for　the　Duke。〃　The　villagers　might　not　see…their　manorlord　Sir　Sharfa　more　than　once　or　twice　a　year；　or　the　Duke　in　a　lifetime。　But　still　for　the　most　part　they　kept　up　with　current　events；　at　least　those　in　which　their　lives　and　fortunes　were　likely　to　be　put　at　risk。
　　　The　first　house　in　the　village；　here　at　the　western　end　of　the　street；　was　that　of　Falkener　the　leatherworker。　Falkener　had　no　liking　for　Jord　the　miller　or　any　of　his　family　…　some　old　dispute　had　turned　almost　into　a　feud　…　and　Mark　suspected　him　of　being　the　one　who'd　gone　to　Sir　Sharfa　with　a　false　charge　of　poaching。　Falkener　was　now　at　work　inside　his　half…open　front　door；　and　glanced　up　as　the　two　boys　passed；　if　he　had　yet　learned　anything　of　what　the　visitors'　presence　meant；　his　expression　offered　no　information　on　the　subject。　Mark　looked　away。
　　　As　the　boys　slowly　approached　the　hitching　rack；　they　came　into　full　view　of　the　Elder　Kyril's　house。　Flanking　its　front　door　like　a　pair　of　sentries　stood　two　armed　men；　strangers　to　the　village。　The　guards；　looking　back　at　the　young　rabbit…hunters；　wore　wooden　expressions；　tinged　faintly　with　disdain。　They　were　hard；　tough…looking　men；　both　mustached；　and　with　their　hair　tied　up　in　an　alien　style。　Both　wore　shirts　of　light　chain　mail；　and　emblems　of　the　Duke's　colors　of　blue　and　white。　The　two　were　very　similar；　though　one　was　tall　and　the　other　short；　the　skin　of　one　almost　tar　black　and　that　of　the　other　fair。
　　　As　Mark　and　Kenn　were　still　approaching；　the　Elder's　door　opened；　and　three　more　men　came　out；　engaged　in　quiet　but　urgent　talk　among　themselves。　One　of　the　men　was　Kyril。　The　two　with　him　were　expensively　and　exotically　dressed；　and　they　radiated　an　importance　the　like　of　which　Mark　in　his　young　life　had　never　seen　before。
　　　〃Ibn　Gauthier。〃　Kenn　whispered　the　name　very　softly。　The　two　brothers　were　walking　very　slowly　now；　their　soft…booted　feet　dragging　in　the　summer　dust　as　they　passed　the　Elder's　house　at　a　distance　of　some　twenty　meters。　〃The　Duke's　cousin。　He's　seneschal　of　the　castle；　too。〃
　　　Seneschal　was　a　new　word　to　Mark　…　he'd　never　heard　it　e　up　in　the　village　current…events　gossip；　but　if　Kenn　was　impressed　by　it；　he　was　impressed　also。
　　　The　third　man　in　the　little　group；　a　graybeard　like　the　Elder；　wore　blue　robes。　〃And　a　wizard；〃　added　Kenn；　his　whisper　falling　almost　to　inaudibility。
　　　A　real　wizard？　thought　Mark。　He　wasn't　at　all　sure　that　Kenn　would　know　a　real　wizard　if　he　saw　one。。。　but　what　actually　impressed　Mark　at　the　moment　was　the　behavior　of　the　Elder　Kyril。　The　Elder　was　actually　being　obsequious　to　his　visitors；　acting　the　same　way　some　poor　landless　serf　might　when　brought　in　to　stand　before　the　Elder。　Mark　had　never　seen　the　old　man　behave　in　such　a　way　before。　Even　during　Sir　Sharfa's　periodic　visits；　the　knight；　who　was　actually　the　master；　always　spoke　to　the　old　man　with　respect；　and　listened　to　him　car