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ggk.thelionsofal-rassan-第92章

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  〃I was looking!〃 Alvar stammered; then flushed beneath his own disguise。
  〃Good;〃 she murmured。 〃That earns you some redress。 Not all; mind you。 I ought not to have had to be the huntress tonight。〃
  〃How did you know me?〃 he asked; struggling for self…possession。
  He heard her laugh。 〃A man of your build wearing Asharite slippers? Not hard; my northern soldier。〃 She paused; tugged a little on the golden leash。 〃You are mine now; you understand? For whatever I choose tonight。〃
  Alvar discovered that his mouth had gone dry。 He didn't answer。 He didn't really have to。 He saw her smile; beneath the mask。 She began walking and he followed her; wherever she was taking him。
  In one way; it was not far at all: just around the corner; a house fronting on the same wide square as their barracks; near the palace。 They passed through an imposing double doorway; crossed a torchlit courtyard and climbed a flight of stairs。 It was an elegantly appointed house。 Servants; dressed in black; masked as small forest creatures; watched them pass; in silence。
  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。
  Th
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