ggk.asongforarbonne-第6章

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　had　rebounded；　in　the　way　of　things　down　here；　to　the　greater　renown　of　En　Mallin　de　Baude：　lesser　barons　in　remote　castles　seldom　had　troubadours；　modestly　petent　or　otherwise；　living　with　them　for　any　length　of　time。　That　much；　at　least；　made　sense　to　Blaise。
　　But；　of　course；　once　settled　in　the　castle；　Evrard　naturally　had　to　fall　in　love　with　Soresina　and　begin　writing　his　dawn…songs　and　liensennes；　and　his　cryptic　trobars　for　her。　That；　also　in　the　way　of　such　things　here；　was　precisely　why　he　had　e；　with　the　less　romantic　incentive；　Blaise　had　caustically　observed；　of　a　handsome　monthly　payment　out　of　Mallin's　wool　revenues　from　last　autumn's　fair　in　Lussan。　The　troubadour　used　a　made…up　name　for　his　Lady…another　rule　of　the　tradition…but　everyone　in　the　vicinity　of　the　castle；　and　surprisingly　soon　everyone　in　Arbonne　who　mattered　at　all；　seemed　to　know　that　Evrard　of　Lussan；　the　troubadour；　was　heart…smitten　by　the　beauty　and　grace　of　young　Soresina　de　Baude　in　her　castle　tucked　in　a　fold　of　the　high　country　leading　to　the　mountain　passes　and　Arimonda。
　　Mallin　was　enormously　pleased；　that　too　was　part　of　the　game。　A　lovestruck　troubadour　exalting　the　baron's　wife　enhanced　Mallin's　own　ardently　pursued　images　of　power　and　largess。
　　Soresina；　of　course；　was　thrilled　beyond　words。　She　was　vain；　pretty　and　easily　silly　enough；　in　Blaise's　jaundiced　opinion；　to　have　precipitated　exactly　the　sort　of　crisis　with　which　they　now　found　themselves　dealing。　If　it　hadn't　been　the　one　incident；　it　would　have　been　another；　he　was　sure　of　it。　There　were　women　like　Soresina　at　home；　too；　but　they　were　rather　better　kept　in　hand　in　Gorhaut。　For　one　thing；　their　husbands　didn't　invite　strangers　into　their　castles　for　the　express　purpose　of　wooing　them。　However　Maffour　might　try　to　explain　the　strict　rules　of　this　courtly　game　of　love；　Blaise　knew　an　attempt　at　seduction　when　he　saw　one。
　　Soresina；　manifestly　uninterested　in　the　newly　resident　poet　in　any　genuinely　romantic　way…which　no　doubt　reassured　her　husband　more　than　somewhat…nonetheless　contrived　to　lead　Evrard　on　in　every　manner　possible；　given　the　constraints　imposed　by　the　extremely　crowded　spaces　of　a　small　baronial　castle。
　　Mallin's　yellow…haired　wife　had　a　ripe　body；　an　infectious　laugh　and　a　lineage　substantially　more　distinguished　than　her　husband's：　something　that　always　added　fuel　to　the　fires　of　troubadour　passion　Blaise　had　been　told　by　the　discursive　Maffour。　He'd　had　to　laugh；　it　was　all　so　artificial；　the　whole　process。　He　could　guess；　too　easily；　what　acid…tongued　Rudel　would　have　said　about　this。
　　In　the　meantime；　the　celebrated　southern　spring　came　to　Arbonne；　with　many…coloured　wildflowers　appearing　almost　overnight　in　the　meadows　and　the　high　slopes　about　Castle　Baude。　The　snows　were　reported　to　be　receding　from　the　mountain　pass　to　Arimonda。　As　the　poet's　verses　grew　in　heat　and　passion　with　the　quickening　season；　so　did　the　throbbing　voices　of　the　joglars　who　had　begun　arriving　in　Baude　as　well；　knowing　a　good　thing　when　they　saw　one。　More　than　one　of　the　corans　and　castle　servants　had　private　cause　to　thank　the　troubadour　and　the　singers　and　the　erotic　atmosphere　they'd　induced　for　amorous　interludes　in　kitchen　and　meadow　and　hall。
　　Unfortunately　for　him；　Evrard's　own　cause　was　not　aided　by　the　all…too…evident　reality　that　he　was　short；　yellow…toothed　and　prematurely　losing　what　thin　hair　he'd　once　had。　Still；　according　to　the　great　tradition；　troubadours　were　supposed　to　be　loved　by　the　high　ladies　of　culture　and　grace　for　their　art　and　their　fierce　dedication；　not　for　their　height　or　hair。
　　Trouble　was；　Soresina　de　Baude　didn't　seem　to　care　much　for　the　great　tradition；　or　that　part　of　it；　at　any　rate。　She　liked　her　men　to　look　like　the　warlike　corans　of　the　great　days　past。　Indeed；　she'd　made　a　point　of　telling　Blaise　as　much　shortly　after　he'd　arrived；　looking　artlessly　up　at　his　tall；　muscled　form　and　then　glancing　down　and　away　in　transparently　feigned　shyness。　Blaise；　somewhat　used　to　this　sort　of　thing；　had　been　neither　surprised　nor　tempted。　He　was　being　paid　by　Mallin　and　had　shaped　his　own　code　in　such　matters。
　　What　Evrard　of　Lussan　shaped；　later　that　spring；　was　something　else。　In　brief；　the　little　troubadour；　having　downed　a　considerable　quantity　of　unmixed　Miraval　red　wine　with　the　corans　one　night；　finally　elected　to　translate　his　fiercely　impassioned　verses　into　modestly　passionate　action。
　　Inflamed　by　a　joglar's　fervid　rendition　of　one　of　his　own　ballads　earlier　that　evening；　the　troubadour　had　left　his　sleeping　place　late　at　night　and　stumbled　along　dark　and　silent　corridors　and　stairways　to　Soresina's　door；　which　happened；　unfortunately　for　all　concerned；　to　be　unlocked：　Mallin；　young；　healthy；　tall　enough；　and　rather　urgently　seeking　heirs；　had　but　lately　left　his　wife　for　his　own　chamber　nearby。
　　The　intoxicated；　verse…enraptured　poet　had　entered　the　pitch…black　chamber；　felt　his　way　over　to　the　canopied　bed　and　planted　a　lover's　kiss　upon　the　lips　of　the　satiated；　sleeping　woman　he　was　busily　making　famous　throughout　Arbonne　that　spring。
　　There　were　a　good　many　schools　of　thought　evolving；　in　the　aftermath　of　the　event；　as　to　what　Soresina　should　have　done。　Ariane　de　Carenzu；　queen　of　the　Court　of　Love　since　the　countess；　her　aunt；　had　passed　the　title　to　her；　had　proclaimed　a　session　to　rule　on　the　matter　later　in　the　year。　In　the　meantime；　every　man　and　woman　Blaise　encountered　in　the　castle　or　outside　it　seemed　to　have　an　opinion　on　what　he　himself　regarded　as　an　entirely　predictable；　utterly　trivial　event。
　　What　Soresina　had　done…quite　naturally；　or　very　unfortunately；　depending　on　one's　perspective…was　scream。　Roused　from　post…coital　dreaming；　then　realizing　who　was　in　her　chamber；　she　cursed　her　stunned；　besotted　admirer；　in　a　voice　heard　by　half　the　castle；　as　a　rude；　ill…bred　peasant　who　deserved　a　public　whipping。
　　What　Evrard　of　Lussan；　wounded　to　the　core　of　his　all…too…sensitive　soul；　had　done　in　turn　was　leave　Baude　Castle　before　sunrise；　proceed　directly　to　the　nearest　sanctuary　of　the　goddess；　receive　benediction　and　consecration　and；　making　his　way　to　the　coast；　cross　by　boat　to　Rian's　Island　in　a　retreat　from　the　harsh；　ungrateful　society　of　women　and　castles　that　could　so　abuse　the　unstinting　generosity　of　his　art。
　　Safely　on　the　island；　away　from　the　terrible　storm　and　strife　of　the　world　beyond；　he　had　begun　soothing　and　diverting　himself　by　posing　hymns　to　the　goddess；　along　with　some　undeniably　witty　satires　on　Soresina　de　Baude。　Not　by　name；　of　course…rules　were　rules…but　since　the　name　he　used　now　was　the　same　one　he'd　coined　to　exalt　the　long…limbed　elegance　of　her　form　and　the　dark　fire　of　her　eyes；　no　one　in　Arbonne　was　left　even　slightly　in　ignorance　of　this　particular　point。　The　students　in　Tavernel；　Blaise　had　been　given　to　understand　by　a　seriously　distressed　Mallin；　had　taken　up　the　songs　and　were　amplifying　them；　adding　verses　of　their　own。
　　After　a　number　of　weeks　of　this；　En　Mallin　de　Baude…his　wife　an　increasing　object　of　amusement；　his　castle　on　the　verge　of　being　a　byword　for　rustic　bad　manners；　his　conciliatory　letters　to　Evrard　on　the　island　pointedly　unanswered…elected　to　do　something　drastic。
　　For　his　own　part；　Blaise　would　probably　have　arranged　to　kill　the　poet。　Mallin　de　Baude　was　a　lord；　if　a　minor　one；　Evrard　of　Lussan　was　no　more　than　a　travelling　parasite　in　Blaise's　view。　A　feud；　even　a　dispute　between　two　such　men；　would　have　been　unthinkable　in　Gorhaut。　But　this；　of　course；　was　woman…ruled　Arbonne；　where　the　troubadours　had　a　power　in　society　they　could　never　have　dreamt　of　anywhere　else。
　　In　the　event；　what　Mallin　did　was　order　Blaise　and　his　corans　to　cross　to　the　goddess's　Island　secretly　by　night　and　bring　Evrard　back。　The　baron；　of　course；　couldn't　lead　the　expedition　himself；　though　Blaise　had　enough　respect　for　the　man　to　believe　he　would　have　preferred　to。　Mallin　would　need　some　distance　from　the　escapade；　though；　in　the　event　that　they　failed。　He　had　to　be　able　to　say　his　corans　had　conceived　the　scheme　without　his　knowledge　or　consent；　and　then　hasten　to　a　temple　of　Rian　and　make　appropriate　gestures　of　contrit