ggk.thelionsofal-rassan-第82节

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　　In　another　sense；　though；　what　ensued　when　they　came　to　the　room　where　she　led　him…with　its　balcony　over　the　square；　and　its　enormous　fireplace；　and　the　wide；　canopied　bed…marked　one　of　the　longest　journeys　of　Alvar's　life。
　　
　　Jehane　was　alone　again。　She　had　left　the　four　brown　rabbits　by　the　water；　a　little　reluctantly；　because　they　were　amusing；　but　she　wasn't　inclined　to　bee　too　much　a　part　of　their　visibly　growing　intimacy；　and　at　one　point　she　had　simply　slipped　off　the　fishing　boat　where　they　had　been；　and　moved　quietly　back　to　the　pier　and　into　the　crowd。
　　She　still　had　the　wine　flask　the　stag　had　left　her；　but　she'd　stopped　drinking。　She　felt　clear…headed　now；　almost　unsettlingly　so。　She　was　discovering；　as　she　moved　through　the　late…night　streets；　that　Carnival；　for　all　its　disguises；　was　a　difficult　night　in　which　to　hide　from　the　self　after　all。
　　At　one　point　she　caught　a　glimpse　of　Husari　in　his　spectacular　mask。　The　silk　merchant　was　dancing；　part　of　a　group　of　figures。　In　fact；　he　was　in　the　center　of　a　ring；　turning　in　neat…footed　movements　while　the　laughing　crowd　applauded　him。　Jehane　paused　a　short　distance　away；　smiling　behind　her　owl　face；　long　enough　to　see　a　woman　masked　as　a　vixen　step　from　the　circle　to　e　up　to　the　peacock　and　loop　her　arms　around　his　neck；　careful　of　the　feathers。　They　began　moving　together；　gracefully。
　　Jehane　watched　for　another　moment　and　then　moved　on。
　　It　might　have　seemed　as　if　her　wandering　was　aimless；　carrying　her　with　the　swirling　movements　of　the　crowd　past　entertainments　and　food　vendors；　to　pause　outside　tavern　windows　listening　to　the　music　floating　out；　or　to　sit　for　a　time　on　the　stone　bench　outside　one　of　the　larger　homes　and　watch　the　people　flowing　past　like　a　river　in　the　night。
　　It　wasn't　so；　however。　Her　movements　were　not；　in　the　end；　random。　Honest　with　herself；　tonight　and　most　nights；　Jehane　knew　where　her　steps　were　drawing　her；　however　slowly；　by　whatever　meandering　paths　through　the　city。　She　couldn't　claim　to　be　happy；　or　easy　in　her　soul　about　this；　but　her　heartbeat　grew　steadily　quicker；　and　the　doctor　in　her　could　diagnose　that；　at　least；　without　difficulty。
　　She　rose　from　a　last　bench；　turned　a　corner　and　walked　down　a　street　of　handsome　mansions　near　the　palace。　Passing　elegant；　formal　facades；　she　saw　the　door　of　one　house　closing　behind　a　man　and　a　woman。　She　caught　a　glimpse　of　a　leash。　That　stirred　a　memory；　but　then　it　drifted　away。
　　And　so　it　was　that　she　found　herself　standing　outside　a　very　large　building。　There　were　torches　set　along　the　wall　at　intervals　but　very　little　ornament　and　the　windows　above　were　all　dark　save　for　one；　and　she　knew　that　room。
　　Jehane　stood　against　a　rough　stone　wall　across　the　street；　oblivious　now　to　the　people　passing　by　her　in　the　square；　and　gazed　up　at　the　highest　level　of　that　building；　towards　the　solitary　light。
　　Someone　was　awake　and　alone；　very　late　at　night。
　　Someone　was　writing；　on　newly　bought　parchment。　Not　ransom　demands；　letters　home。　Jehane　looked　up　past　the　smoke　of　the　passing　torches　and　those　fixed　in　the　walls；　and　struggled　to　accept　and　make　sense　of　what　lay　within　her　heart。　Overhead；　shining　along　the　street　and　down　upon　all　the　people　in　the　square；　the　blue　moon　bathed　the　night　in　its　glow。　The　sliver　of　the　white　moon　had　just　risen。　She　had　seen　it　by　the　water。　She　could　not　see　it　here。　In　the　teachings　of　the　Kindath；　the　white　moon　meant　clarity；　the　blue　one　was　mystery；　secrets　of　the　soul；　plexities　of　need。
　　A　small　man；　amusingly　disguised　beneath　a　blond　wig　and　the　thick　yellow　beard　of　a　Karcher；　staggered　past　her；　carrying　a　long…legged　woman　in　the　veiled　guise　of　a　Muwardi　from　the　desert。　〃Put　me　down！〃　the　woman　cried；　unconvincingly；　and　laughed。　They　continued　along　the　street；　lit　by　torches　and　the　moon；　and　turned　the　corner　out　of　sight。
　　There　would　be　a　guard　by　the　door　of　the　barracks。　Someone　who　had　drawn　one　of　the　short　straws　and　been　posted；　plaining；　on　duty　for　a　part　of　tonight。　Whoever　it　was；　he　would　let　her　pass。　They　all　knew　her。　She　could　identify　herself　and　be　allowed　to　enter。　And　then　go　up　the　first　circling　flight　of　stairs　and　then　the　second　one；　and　then　down　a　dark　hallway　to　knock　on　that　last　door　behind　which　a　candle　burned。
　　His　voice　would　call　out；　not　at　all　alarmed。　She　would　say　her　name。　There　would　be　a　silence。　He　would　rise　from　his　desk；　from　his　letter　home；　and　cross　to　open　the　door。　Looking　up　into　his　grey　eyes；　she　would　step　into　his　room　and　remove　her　mask；　finally；　and　find；　by　the　steady　light　of　that　candle　。。。　what？
　　Sanctuary？　Shelter？　A　place　to　hide　from　the　heart's　truth　of　tonight　and　all　nights？
　　Standing　alone　in　the　street；　Jehane　shook　her　head　a　little　and　then；　quite　unconsciously；　gave　the　small　shrug　those　who　knew　her　best　could　always　recognize。
　　She　squared　her　shoulders　and　drew　a　deep　breath。　It　was　Carnival　in　Ragosa。　A　time　for　hiding　from　others；　perhaps；　but　not　from　the　self。　It　was　important　to　have　e　here；　she　understood。　To　have　stood　gazing　up　at　that　window　and　pictured　herself　ascending　a　winding　stair　towards　the　man　in　that　room。　Important　to　acknowledge　certain　truths；　however　difficult。　And　then；　having　done　so；　it　was　as　important　to　turn　away　and　move　on。　Truly　wandering　now。　Alone　in　the　frenzy　of　the　night　streets；　searching　again…but；　more　truly；　waiting　to　be　found。
　　If；　indeed；　it　was　to　happen。　If；　somewhere　between　moon　and　torchlight　and　dark；　this　would　be。
　　As　she　stepped　away　from　the　stone　wall　and　turned　her　back　on　that　room　with　its　pale　glow　of　light　far　above；　another　figure　also　moved；　detaching　from　shadow；　following　her。
　　And　a　third　figure　followed　that　one；　unnoticed　in　the　loud　streets　of　Ragosa；　as　this　dance；　one　among　so　many　in　the　whirling　night　and　the　sad；　sweet　world；　moved　towards　its　beginning　and　its　end。
　　She　was　outside　the　palace；　watching　two　jugglers　toss　wheels　of　flame　back　and　forth；　when　the　voice　from　behind　spoke　to　her。
　　〃I　believe　you　have　my　wine　flask。〃　The　tones　were　low；　muffled　by　a　mask；　even　now；　she　wasn't　entirely　certain。
　　She　turned。　It　was　not　the　stag。
　　A　lion　stood　before　her；　golden…maned；　imperial。　Jehane　blinked　and　took　a　step　backwards；　bumping　into　someone。　She　had　been　reaching　to　her　hip　for　the　leather　flask；　now　she　let　it　fall　again。
　　〃You　are　deceived；〃　she　said。　〃I　do　have　someone's　flask；　but　it　was　a　stag　who　left　it　with　me。〃
　　〃I　have　been　a　stag；〃　the　lion　said；　in　oracular　tones。　The　voice　changed；　〃I　can　assure　you　I　will　never　be　one　again。〃
　　Something　in　the　inflection。　Not　to　be　mistaken。　She　knew；　finally。　And　the　hard；　quick　hammering　was　in　her　pulse。
　　〃And　why　is　that？〃　she　asked；　struggling　to　keep　her　voice　steady。　She　was　grateful　for　darkness；　for　fitful；　passing　light；　for　her　own　mask。
　　〃Plays　all　havoc　in　doorways；〃　said　the　lion。　〃And　I　ended　up　collecting　ridiculous　things　on　the　horns；　just　walking。　A　hat。　A　flask。　A　torch　once。　Almost　set　myself　on　fire。〃
　　She　laughed；　in　spite　of　herself。
　　The　voice　changed　again。　〃It　is　late　now；　Jehane；〃　said　this　man　who　seemed　to　have　found　her　in　the　night　after　all。　〃It　may　even　be　too　late；　but　shall　we　walk　together　a　while；　you　and　I？〃
　　〃How　did　you　know　me？〃　she　asked；　not　answering　the　question；　nor　asking　the　harder　one　he'd　invited。　Not　yet。　Not　quite　yet。　Her　heart　was　loud。　She　felt　it　as　a　drumbeat　in　the　dark。
　　〃I　think；〃　said　Ammar　ibn　Khairan　of　Aljais；　very　slowly；　〃that　I　should　know　you　in　a　pitch　black　room。　I　think　I　would　know　you　anywhere　near　me　in　the　world。〃　He　paused。　〃Is　that　answer　enough；　Jehane？　Or　too　much　of　one？　Will　you　say？〃
　　She　heard；　for　the　first　time　ever；　uncertainty　in　his　voice。　And　that；　more　than　any　other　thing；　was　what　made　her　tremble。
　　She　asked；　〃Why　might　it　be　too　late？　The　blue　moon　is　still　high。　The　night　has　a　distance　to　run。〃
　　He　shook　his　head。　Left　a　silence。　She　heard　laughter　and　applause　behind　her。　The　jugglers　had　done　something　new。
　　Ibn　Khairan　said；　〃My　dear；　I　have　been　other　things　in　my　time；　besides　a　stag　at　Carnival。〃
　　She　understood。　For　all　the　wit　and　edge　and　irony；　there　was　this　grace　to　him；　always；　an　allowance　for　her　own　intelligence。　She　said；　honestly；　〃I　know　this；　of　course。　It　is　a　part　of　why　I'm　afraid。〃
　　〃That　is　what　I　meant；〃　he　said　simply。
　　All　the　stories。　Through　the　years　a　young　girl　hearing；　against　her　will；　gossip　by　the　well　in　Fezana；　or　at　the　shallow　place　by　the　river　where　the　women　washed　their　clothes。　And　then；　a　woman　herself；　home　from　studies　abroad；　hearing　the　same　stories　again。　New　names；　new　variations；　the　same　man。　Ibn　Khairan　of　Aljais。　Of　Cartada。
　　Jehane　looked　at　the　man　in　the　lion　mask　and　felt　something　lodge；　hard　and　painful；　in　the　place　where　her　heart　was　drumming。
　　He　had　killed　the　last　khalif　of　Al…Rassan。
　　Behind　the　mask；　in　the　flickering　passage　of　torches　all　around　where　they　were；　she　could　just　glimpse　his　eyes。　They　would　be　blue　if　he　removed　the　disguise；　if　they　stood　in　brighter　light。　She　became　aware　that　he　was　waiti