ggk.asongforarbonne-第89章

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d　them。
　　〃Do　not；〃　Urté　said；　〃expect　another　salute。　The　last　time　I　looked　into　the　matter；　Ademar　was　king　of　Gorhaut。　I'm　afraid　I　do　not　bow　to　the　presumption　of　pretenders。〃
　　〃Why　do　you　save　their　lives；　then？〃　It　was　Rudel　who　asked　as　Blaise　kept　silent；　thinking　as　swiftly　as　he　could。
　　The　duke　didn't　bother　to　look　at　Rudel。　His　eyes　held　Blaise's　as　he　smiled　thinly。　〃The　Arimondan　was　a　disappointment。　He　cost　me　ten　corans　two　nights　ago；　and　a　thousand　in　gold　to　Massena　Delonghi　this　morning。　And　I　didn't　really　want　to　be　the　sworn　liege　lord　of　a　coran　who　killed　this　man　from　behind　in　a　challenge。　Bad　for　my　own　image；　you　understand。〃
　　〃I　think　I　do；　actually；〃　Blaise　said。　A　cold　anger　was　rising　in　him。　〃You　were　at　risk　if　he　survived；　weren't　you？　Since　you　betrayed　him　in　Lucianna's　rooms；　he　might　have　continued　to　talk　about　how　you　were　really　part　of　that　attempt　on　my　life　two　nights　ago。　Very　bad　for　your　image；　I　agree。　You　didn't　save　me；　my　lord；　you　killed　an　inconvenient　man。〃
　　The　duke　was　undisturbed。　〃A　fair　reason　to　kill　a　man；　I　would　say。　You　might　want　to　take　care　to　avoid　being　inconvenient　yourself；　as　well　as　presumptuous。〃
　　Rudel　gave　a　bark　of　shocked　laughter。　〃Are　you　mad？　Are　you　threatening　him？〃
　　Again　Urté　did　not　even　look　at　him。　Blaise　said　then；　very　deliberately；　〃Does　it　matter　greatly　what　I　do？　I'd　heard　simple　error　was　enough　to　cause　you　to　kill；　actually。　Musicians　who　sang　the　wrong　tune；　loyal　corans　who　made　the　mistake　of　obeying　your　instructions　at　the　wrong　time。〃　He　paused；　and　fixed　his　gaze　on　Urté。　He　knew　he　shouldn't　say　this；　but　there　was　a　rage　working　through　him　now；　and　he　didn't　care　any　more：　〃And　then　there　was　a　child　who　had　the　regrettably　bad　judgment　to　be　sired　by　the　wrong　man；　and　a　young　wife　who…〃
　　〃I　believe　that　is　enough；〃　said　Urté　de　Miraval。　His　smile　was　gone。
　　〃Do　you？　What　if　I　do　not　believe　so；　my　lord？　What　if　I　choose　to　suggest　otherwise？　To　bee　truly　inconvenient；　as　you　put　it？　To　denounce　you　myself　for　plotting　to　have　me　slain？　And　for　other　things；　however　long　ago？〃　Blaise　felt　his　hands　beginning　to　tremble。　〃If　you　wish；　I　will　be　pleased　to　fight　you　now。　I　have　my　attendants　here；　and　there　are　two　corans　of　Miraval　already　waiting　by　that　tent。　I　will　be　happy　to　engage　you。　I　don't　like　men　who　kill　babies；　my　lord　of　Miraval。〃
　　Urté　de　Miraval's　expression　had　grown　thoughtful。　He　was　calm　again；　if　very　pale　now。　〃De　Talair　told　you　that？〃
　　〃He　told　me　nothing。　I　have　never　asked　him。　This　has　nothing　to　do　with　Bertran。〃
　　The　duke　smiled　again。　It　was　not　a　pleasant　smile　this　time　either。　〃Ah；　then；〃　he　murmured；　〃it　was　Ariane；　last　summer。　Of　course。　I　ought　to　have　guessed。　I　love　the　woman　dearly；　but　she　loosens　her　tongue　when　bedded。〃
　　Blaise's　head　snapped　back。　〃I　have　just　offered　once。　Need　I　do　so　again？　Will　you　fight　me；　my　lord？〃
　　After　a　moment；　Urté　de　Miraval　shook　his　head；　seeming　now　to　have　fully　recovered　his　posure；　to　be　genuinely　amused。　〃I　will　not。　You　are　hurt；　for　one　thing；　and　are　possibly　of　some　importance　to　us　right　now；　for　another。　You　fought　bravely　this　morning；　Northerner。　I　can　honour　a　man　for　that；　and　I　do。　Look；　the　women　are　waiting　for　you。　Go　play　out　the　game　and　then　have　your　ear　dealt　with；　coran。　I　rather　fear　you　are　going　to　look　like　de　Talair　when　that　blood　is　cleaned　away。〃
　　It　was　a　dismissal；　in　fact；　a　high　lord　speaking　as　if　to　some　promising　young　swordsman；　but　Blaise；　though　recognizing　that　clearly；　didn't　quite　know　how　to　turn　it　into　something　else。　Valery　did　it　for　him。
　　〃There　remains　one　unanswered　question；　my　lord；〃　Bertran's　cousin　murmured　to　the　duke。　And　Urté　turned　to　him　as　he　had　not　done　for　Rudel。　〃Is　it　shame　that　keeps　your　back　so　straight　just　now？　Shame　because　you　have　been　off　with　an　Arimondan　on　a　dark　trail　of　murder　while　the　rest　of　us；　including　En　Bertran；　are　trying　to　save　Arbonne　from　a　ruin　we　know　to　be　ing。　How　far　into　the　present　will　you　carry　the　past；　my　lord；　whether　or　not　you　killed　the　child？〃
　　For　an　instant　Urté　was　rendered　speechless；　and　in　that　moment；　feeling　an　easing　of　his　own　fury　and　a　rush　of　satisfaction　like　a　cool　breeze；　Blaise　nodded　politely　to　him　and　then　turned　his　back；　in　the　sight　of　all　those　watching。　He　heard　his　friends　following　as　he　began　to　walk　towards　the　pavilion　of　the　countess　of　Arbonne　and　the　queen　of　the　Court　of　Love；　leaving　the　duke　of　Miraval　standing　alone　on　the　grass　with　his　bow；　beside　the　body　of　his　dead　coran；　the　sunlight　falling　clearly　upon　the　two　of　them。
　　
　　Roban；　the　chancellor；　standing　discreetly　but　readily　available　towards　the　back　of　the　countess's　golden　and　white　pavilion；　saw　the　son　of　Galbert　de　Garsenc　turn　his　back　upon　Urté　de　Miraval　and　begin　to　walk　towards　them。　He　winced。　He　hadn't　heard　a　word　of　what　had　been　spoken；　of　course；　but　the　cool　effrontery　of　the　gesture　carried　its　own　message。
　　The　messages　were　ing　fast　and　furious　this　morning；　all　tending　towards　the　same　end。　He　still　didn't　like　what　was　happening…it　was　too　flamboyant；　far　too　provocative　for　Roban…but　he　had　to　concede　that　the　Gorhautian　was　carrying　it　off　with　real　grace。　Given　what　had　just　happened；　he　couldn't　honestly　claim　to　doubt　the　man　any　more。　He　might　fail　in　this；　they　might　all　fail；　but　Blaise　de　Garsenc　had　abandoned　any　chance　to　betray　them　when　he'd　had　the　banner　of　the　kings　of　Gorhaut　raised　above　his　tent　this　morning。
　　Roban　made　an　unobtrusive　gesture　and　one　of　his　own　people　came　hurrying　over　from　the　cleared　space　behind　the　pavilion。　He　sent　the　man　running　for　the　countess's　physician　and　the　priestess　of　healing　as　well。
　　In　the　middle　of　the　field　he　saw　En　Urté　make　a　belatedly　imperious　gesture；　summoning　the　two　Miraval　corans　to　remove　the　body　of　the　Arimondan。　Roban　had　spent　most　of　his　life　at　court。　He　knew　perfectly　well　why　Urté　had　fired　that　long；　splendid　arrow　shot　from　behind　the　tent。　The　duke；　he　was　certain；　had　fully　expected　to　find　Blaise　of　Gorhaut　already　dead　when　he　arrived　at　the　Delonghi　woman's　rooms　with　the　countess　two　nights　ago。　It　wasn't　any　particular　hatred　of　the　young　coran　that　would　have　driven　him…de　Miraval　very　possibly　hadn't　even　known　who　Blaise　really　was…it　would　have　been　simply　another　blow；　one　more　stupid；　trivial；　destructive　blow　in　the　endless　war　of　Miraval　and　Talair。　Bertran　valued　the　Gorhautian　and　kept　him　close：　therefore；　and　needing　no　other　reason；　Urté　de　Miraval　would　be　pleased　to　see　him　slain。　After　which　the　Arimondan　would　have　been　abandoned　to　his　fate；　exactly　as　he　had　been　in　any　event；　and　the　unsettling；　possibly　dangerous　lady　from　Portezza　left　to　the　countess。　And　to　Roban；　of　course；　the　hard　things　were　always　left　to　Roban。
　　He　watched　as　Blaise　de　Garsenc　approached；　walking　with　obvious　difficulty。　Some　distance　behind　him　the　two　green…garbed　Miraval　corans　were　running　across　the　grass　in　response　to　their　lord's　summons。　Roban　was　a　thoughtful　man；　and　it　had　long　struck　him　as　strange…and　did　so　again　now…that　none　of　the　blows　between　the　warring　dukes　were　ever　directed　at　each　other。　It　was　as　if…in　some　unspoken；　unacknowledged　fashion…they　needed　each　other　to　keep　alive　the　clear；　bitter　memories　of　that　long…ago　year；　to　give　each　other；　however　inexplicable　it　might　appear；　a　reason　to　continue　living。
　　It　was　ridiculous　to　Roban；　hopelessly　irrational；　dark　as　pagan　ritual；　but　at　the　same　time　something　the　countess　had　once　said　still　rang　true　for　him：　it　was　virtually　impossible　ever　to　think　of　either　man　without　immediately　calling　the　other　to　mind。　They　were　bound　and　grappled　together；　Roban　thought；　as　in　a　net；　by　the　death　of　Aelis　de　Miraval。　Roban　looked　over　and　saw　Bertran；　relaxed　and　at　ease　in　a　chair　under　the　countess's　golden　canopy。　He　was　smiling　broadly　as　he　watched　Urté　stalk　before　his　corans　as　they　bore　the　Arimondan's　body　from　the　field。
　　It　never　stopped。　It　would　not　ever　stop　while　the　two　of　them　lived。　And　who　knew　what　people…and　nations…they　would　draw　do