pp.thegoldencompass-第23章
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ctories 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 smokeleaf； of jenniver spirit。
They tied up close to the Zaal itself； at a mooring Tony said had been used by their family for generations。 Presently Ma Costa had the frying pan going； with a couple of fat eels hissing and sputtering and the kettle on for potato powder。 Tony and Kerim oiled their hair； put on their finest leather jackets and blue spotted neckerchiefs； loaded their fingers with silver rings； and went to greet some old friends in the neighboring boats and drink a glass or two in the nearest bar。 They came back with important news。
〃We got here just in time。 The Roping's this very night。 And they're a saying in the town…what d'you think of this？… they're saying that the missing child's on a gyptian boat； and she's a going to appear tonight at the Roping！〃
He laughed loudly and ruffled Lyra's hair。 Ever since they'd entered the fens he had been more and more good tempered； as if the savage gloom his face showed outside were only a disguise。 And Lyra felt an excitement growing in her breast as she ate quickly and washed the dishes before bing her hair； tucking the alethiometer into the wolfskin coat pocket； and jumping ashore with all the other families making their way up the slope to the Zaal。
She had thought Tony was joking。 She soon found that he wasn't； or else that she looked less like a gyptian than she'd thought； for many people stared； and children pointed； and by the time they reached the great doors of the Zaal they were walking alone between a crowd on either side； who had fallen back to stare and give them room。
And then Lyra began to feel truly nervous。 She kept close to Ma Costa； and Pantalaimon became as big as he could and took his panther shape to reassure her。 Ma Costa trudged up the steps as if nothing in the world could possibly either stop her or make her go more quickly； and Tony and Kerim walked proudly on either side like princes。
The hall was lit by naphtha lamps； which shone brightly enough on the faces and bodies of the audience； but left the lofty rafters hidden in darkness。 The people ing in had to struggle to find room on the floor； where the benches were already crowded； but families squeezed up to make space； children occupying laps and daemons curling up underfoot or perching out of the way on the rough wooden walls。
At the front of the Zaal there was a platform with eight carved wooden chairs set out。 As Lyra and the Costas found space to stand along the edge of the hall； eight men appeared from the shadows at the rear of the platform and stood in front of the chairs。 A ripple of excitement swept over the audience as they hushed one another and shoved themselves into spaces on the nearest bench。 Finally there was silence and seven of the men on the platform sat down。
The one who remained was in his seventies； but tall and bull necked and powerful。 He wore a plain canvas jacket and a checked shirt； like many gyptian men； there was nothing to mark him out but the air of strength and authority he had。 Lyra recognized it： Uncle Asriel had it； and so did the Master of Jordan。 This man's daemon was a crow； very like the Master's raven。
〃That's John Faa； the lord of the western gyptians；〃 Tony whispered。
John Faa began to speak； in a deep slow voice。 〃Gyptians！ Wele to the Roping。 We've e to listen and e to decide。 You all know why。 There are many families here who've lost a child。 Some have lost two。 Someone is taking them。 To be sure； landlopers are losing children too。 We have no quarrel with landlopers over this。
〃Now there's been talk about a child and a reward。 Here's the truth to stop all gossip。 The child's name is Lyra Belacqua； and she's being sought by the landloper police。 There is a reward of one thousand sovereigns for giving her up to them。 She's a landloper child； and she's in our care； and there she's going to stay。 Anyone tempted by those thousand sovereigns had better find a place neither on land nor on water。 We en't giving her up。〃
Lyra felt a blush from the roots of her hair to the soles of her feet； Pantal
