uleg.thetombsofatuan-第8节

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old　desert　where　nobody　ever　es！　But　there's　no　good　wishing　about　it；　because　I've　been　consecrated　now　and　I'm　stuck　with　it。　But　I　do　hope　that　in　my　next　life　I'm　a　dancing…girl　in　Awabath！　Because　I　will　have　earned　it。〃
　　Arha　looked　down　at　her　with　a　dark　steady　gaze。　She　did　not　understand。　She　felt　that　she　had　never　seen　Penthe　before；　never　looked　at　her　and　seen　her；　round　and　full　of　life　and　juice　as　one　of　her　golden　apples；　beautiful　to　see。
　　〃Doesn't　the　Temple　mean　anything　to　you？〃　she　asked；　rather　harshly。
　　Penthe；　always　submissive　and　easily　bullied；　did　not　take　alarm　this　time。　〃Oh；　I　know　your　Masters　are　very　important　to　you；〃　she　said　with　an　indifference　that　shocked　Arha。　〃That　makes　some　sense；　anyhow；　because　you're　their　one　special　servant。　You　weren't　just　consecrated；　you　were　specially　born。　But　look　at　me。　Am　I　supposed　to　feel　so　much　awe　and　so　on　about　the　Godking？　After　all　he's　just　a　man；　even　if　he　does　live　in　Awabath　in　a　palace　ten　miles　around　with　gold　roofs。　He's　about　fifty　years　old；　and　he's　bald。　You　can　see　in　all　the　statues。　And　I'll　bet　you　he　has　to　cut　his　toenails；　just　like　any　other　man。　I　know　perfectly　well　that　he's　a　god；　too。　But　what　I　think　is；　he'll　be　much　godlier　after　he's　dead。〃
　　Arha　agreed　with　Penthe；　for　secretly　she　had　e　to　consider　the　self…styled　Divine　Emperors　of　Kargad　as　upstarts；　false　gods　trying　to　filch　the　worship　due　to　the　true　and　everlasting　Powers。　But　there　was　something　underneath　Penthe's　words　with　which　she　didn't　agree；　something　wholly　new　to　her；　frightening　to　her。　She　had　not　realized　how　very　different　people　were；　how　differently　they　saw　life。　She　felt　as　if　she　had　looked　up　and　suddenly　seen　a　whole　new　planet　hanging　huge　and　populous　right　outside　the　window；　an　entirely　strange　world；　one　in　which　the　gods　did　not　matter。　She　was　scared　by　the　solidity　of　Penthe's　unfaith。　Scared；　she　struck　out。
　　〃That's　true。　My　Masters　have　been　dead　a　long；　long　time；　and　they　were　never　men。。。　Do　you　know；　Penthe；　I　could　call　you　into　the　service　of　the　Tombs。〃　She　spoke　pleasantly；　as　if　offering　her　friend　a　better　choice。
　　The　pink　went　right　out　of　Penthe's　cheeks。
　　〃Yes；〃　she　said；　〃you　could。　But　I'm　not。。。　I'm　not　the　sort　that　would　be　good　at　that。〃
　　〃Why？〃
　　〃I　am　afraid　of　the　dark；〃　Penthe　said　in　a　low　voice。
　　Arha　made　a　little　sound　of　scorn；　but　she　was　pleased。　She　had　made　her　point。　Penthe　might　disbelieve　in　the　gods；　but　she　feared　the　unnameable　powers　of　the　dark　…　as　did　every　mortal　soul。
　　〃I　wouldn't　do　that　unless　you　wanted　to；　you　know；〃　Arha　said。
　　A　long　silence　fell　between　their。
　　〃You're　getting　to　be　more　and　more　like　Thar；〃　Penthe　said　in　her　soft　dreamy　way。　〃Thank　goodness　you're　not　getting　like　Kossil！　But　you're　so　strong。　I　wish　I　were　strong。　I　just　like　eating。。。〃
　　〃Go　ahead；〃　Arha　said；　superior　and　amused；　and　Penthe　slowly　consumed　a　third　apple　down　to　the　seeds。
　　The　demands　of　the　endless　ritual　of　the　Place　brought　Arha　out　of　her　privacy　a　couple　of　days　later。　Twin　kids　had　been　born　out　of　season　to　a　she…goat；　and　were　to　be　sacrificed　to　the　Twin　God…Brothers　as　the　custom　was：　an　important　rite；　at　which　the　First　Priestess　must　be　present。　Then　it　was　dark　of　the　moon；　and　the　ceremonies　of　the　darkness　must　be　performed　before　the　Empty　Throne。　Arha　breathed　in　the　drugging　fumes　of　herbs　burning　in　broad　trays　of　bronze　before　the　Throne；　and　danced；　solitary　in　black。　She　danced　for　the　unseen　spirits　of　the　dead　and　the　unborn　and　as　she　danced　the　spirits　crowded　the　air　around　her；　following　the　turn　and　spin　of　her　feet　and　the　slow；　sure　gestures　of　her　arms。　She　sang　the　songs　whose　words　no　man　understood；　which　she　had　learned　syllable　by　syllable；　long　ago；　from　Thar。　A　choir　of　priestesses　hidden　in　the　dusk　behind　the　great　double　row　of　columns　echoed　the　strange　words　after　her；　and　the　air　in　the　vast　ruinous　room　hummed　with　voices；　as　if　the　crowding　spirits　repeated　the　chants　again　and　again。
　
　　The　Godking　in　Awabath　sent　no　more　prisoners　to　the　Place；　and　gradually　Arha　ceased　to　dream　of　the　three　now　long　since　dead　and　buried　in　shallow　graves　in　the　great　cavern　under　the　Tombstones。
　　She　summoned　up　her　courage　to　return　to　that　cavern。　She　must　go　back　there：　the　Priestess　of　the　Tombs　must　be　able　to　enter　her　own　domain　without　terror；　to　know　its　ways。
　　The　first　time　she　entered　the　trapdoor　was　hard；　yet　not　so　hard　as　she　had　feared。　She　had　schooled　herself　up　to　it　so　well；　had　so　determined　that　she　would　go　alone　and　keep　her　nerve；　that　when　she　came　there　she　was　almost　dismayed　to　find　that　there　was　nothing　to　be　afraid　of。　Graves　might　be　there；　but　she　could　not　see　them；　she　could　not　see　anything。　It　was　black；　it　was　silent。　And　that　was　all。
　　Day　after　day　she　went　there；　always　entering　by　the　trapdoor　in　the　room　behind　the　Throne；　until　she　knew　well　the　whole　circuit　of　the　cavern；　with　its　strange　sculptured　walls　…as　well　as　one　can　know　what　one　cannot　see。　She　never　left　the　walls；　for　in　striking　out　across　the　great　hollow　she　might　soon　lose　the　sense　of　direction　in　the　darkness；　and　so；　blundering　back　at　last　to　the　wall；　not　know　where　she　was。　For　as　she　had　learned　the　first　time；　the　important　thing　down　in　the　dark　places　was　to　know　which　turnings　and　openings　one　had　passed；　and　which　were　to　e。　It　must　be　done　by　counting；　for　they　were　all　alike　to　the　groping　hands。　Arha's　memory　had　been　well　trained；　and　she　found　no　difficulty　to　this　odd　trick　of　finding　one's　way　by　touch　and　number；　instead　of　by　sight　and　mon　sense。　She　soon　knew　by　heart　all　the　corridors　that　opened　off　the　Undertomb；　the　lesser　maze　that　lay　under　the　Hall　of　the　Throne　and　the　hilltop。　But　there　was　one　corridor　she　never　entered：　the　second　left　of　the　red　rock　entrance；　that　one　which；　if　she　entered　mistaking　it　for　one　she　knew；　she　might　never　find　her　way　out　of　again。　Her　longing　to　enter　it；　to　learn　the　Labyrinth；　grew　steadily；　but　she　restrained　it　until　she　had　learned　all　she　could　about　it；　aboveground。
　　Thar　knew　little　about　it　but　the　names　of　certain　of　its　rooms；　and　the　list　of　directions；　of　turns　made　and　missed；　for　getting　to　these　rooms。　She　would　tell　these　to　Arha；　but　she　would　never　draw　them　in　the　dust　or　even　with　the　gesture　of　a　hand　in　the　air；　and　she　herself　had　never　followed　them；　had　never　entered　the　Labyrinth。　But　when　Arha　asked　her；　〃What　is　the　way　from　the　iron　door　that　stands　open　to　the　Painted　Room？〃　or；　〃How　does　the　way　run　from　the　Room　of　Bones　to　the　tunnel　by　the　river？〃　then　Thar　would　be　silent　a　little；　and　then　recite　the　strange　directions　she　had　learned　long　before　from　Arha…that…was：　so　many　crossings　passed；　so　many　left…hand　turns　taken；　and　so　on；　and　so　on。　And　all　these　Arha　got　by　heart；　as　Thar　had；　often　on　the　first　listening。　When　she　lay　in　bed　nights　she　would　repeat　them　to　herself；　trying　to　imagine　the　places；　the　rooms；　the　turnings。
　　Thar　showed　Arha　the　many　spy　holes　that　opened　into　the　maze；　in　every　building　and　temple　of　the　Place；　and　even　under　rocks　out　of　doors。　The　spiderweb　of　stone…walled　tunnels　underlay　all　the　Place　and　even　beyond　its　walls；　there　were　miles　of　tunnels；　down　there　in　the　dark。　No　person　there　but　she；　the　two　High　Priestesses；　and　their　special　servants；　the　eunuchs　Manan；　Uahto；　and　Duby；　knew　of　the　existence　of　this　maze　that　lay　beneath　every　step　they　took。　There　were　vague　rumors　of　it　among　the　others；　they　all　knew　that　there　were　caves　or　rooms　of　some　sort　under　the　Tombstones。　But　none　of　them　was　very　curious　about　anything　to　do　with　the　Nameless　Ones　and　the　places　sacred　to　them。　Perhaps　they　felt　that　the　less　they　knew；　the　better。　Arha　of　course　bad　been　intensely　curious；　and　knowing　that　there　were　spy　holes　into　the　Labyrinth；　had　sought　for　them；　yet　they　were　so　well　concealed；　in　the　pavements　of　the　floors　or　in　the　desert　ground；　that　she　had　never　found　one；　not　even　the　one　in　her　own　Small　House；　until　Thar　showed　it　to　her。
　　One　night　in　early　spring　she　took　a　candle　lantern　and　went　down　with　it；　unlit；　through　the　Undertomb　to　the　second　passage　to　the　left　of　the　passage　from　the　red　rock　door。
　　In　the　dark；　she　went　some　thirty　paces　down　the　passage；　and　then　passed　through　a　doorway；　feeling　the　iron　frame　set　in　the　rock：　the　limit；　until　now；　of　her　explorations。　Past　the　Iron　Door　she　went　a　long　way　along　the　tunnel；　and　when　at　last　it　began　to　curve　to　the　right；　she　lit　her　candle　and　looked　about　her。　For　light　was　permitted；　here。　She　was　no　longer　in　the　Undertomb。　She　was　in　a　place　less　sacred　though　perhaps　more　dreadful。　She　was　in　the　Labyrinth。
　　The　raw；　blank　walls　and　vault　and　floor　of　rock　surrounded　her　in　the　small　sphere　of　candlelight。　The　air　was　dead。　Before　her　and　behind　her　the　tunnel　stretched　off　into　darkness。
　　All　the　tunnels　were　the　same；　crossing　and　recrossing。　She　kept　careful　count　of　her　turnings　and　gassings；　and　recited　Thar's　directions　to　herself；　though　she　knew　them　perfectly。　For　it　would　not　do　to　get　lost　in　the　Labyrinth。　In　the　Undertomb　and　the　short　p