ggk.thelionsofal-rassan-第59章

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　　They　turned　a　corner；　into　a　street　they'd　been　told　to　look　for；　and　then　all　three　of　them　stopped　in　their　tracks。　Even　Husari；　who　had　seen　many　cities　in　his　time。
　　Ragosa　was　always　vibrant；　always　colorful。　When　the　sun　shone　and　the　sky　and　the　lake　were　blue　as　a　Kindath　cloak　the　city　could　almost　be　said　to　gleam　in　the　light：　marble　and　ivory　and　the　mosaics　and　engravings　of　arch　and　doorway。　Even　so；　nothing　in　half　a　year　had　prepared　Alvar　for　this。
　　Along　the　length　of　the　narrow；　twisting　laneway　temporary　stalls　had　been　hastily　thrown　together；　scores　of　them；　their　tables　laden　with　masks　of　animals　and　birds；　real　and　fabulous；　in　a　riot　of　colors　and　forms。
　　Jehane　laughed　in　delight。　Husari　shook　his　head；　grinning。　On　the　other　side　of　the　laneway；　young　Ziri's　mouth　hung　open；　Alvar　felt　like　doing　the　same　thing。
　　He　saw　a　wolf's　head；　a　stallion；　a　saffron…bright　sunbird；　an　extraordinarily　convincing；　appalling　fire　ant　mask…and　these　were　all　on　the　first　table　of　the　lane。
　　A　woman　approached　them；　walking　the　other　way；　beautifully　dressed　and　adorned。　A　slave　behind　her　carried　an　exquisite　creation：　a　leather　and　fur　mask　of　a　mountain　cat's　head；　the　collar　encrusted　with　gems。　There　was　a　loop　on　the　collar　for　a　leash；　the　woman　was　carrying　the　leash；　Alvar　saw：　it　looked　like　beaten　and　worked　gold。　That　ensemble　must　have　cost　a　fortune。　It　must　have　taken　half　a　year　to　make。　The　woman　slowed　as　she　came　up　to　the　three　of　them；　then　she　smiled　at　Alvar；　meeting　his　eyes　as　she　went　by。　Alvar　turned　to　watch　her　go。　Ibn　Musa　laughed　aloud；　Jehane　raised　her　eyebrows。
　　〃Remember　that　mask；　my　friend！〃　Husari　chortled。　〃Remember　it　for　tomorrow！〃　Alvar　hoped　he　wasn't　blushing。
　　They　had　met　on　this　mild；　fragrant　morning　to　buy　disguises　of　their　own　for　the　night　when　torches　would　burn　until　dawn　in　the　streets　of　Ragosa。　A　night　when　the　city　would　wele　the　spring…and　celebrate　the　birth　day　of　King　Badir…with　music　and　dancing　and　wine；　and　in　other　ways　notably　distant　from　the　ascetic　strictures　of　Ashar。　And　from　the　teachings　of　the　clerics　of　Jad；　and　the　high　priests　of　the　Kindath；　too；　for　that　matter。
　　Notwithstanding　the　clearly　voiced　opinions　of　their　spiritual　leaders；　people　came　to　Ragosa　from　a　long　way　off；　sometimes　travelling　for　weeks　from　Ferrieres　or　Batiara…though　there　was　still　snow　in　the　passes　east…to　join　the　Carnival。　The　return　of　spring　was　always　worth　celebrating；　and　King　Badir；　who　had　reigned　since　the　Khalifate　fell；　was　a　man　widely　honored；　and　even　loved；　whatever　the　wadjis　might　say　about　him　and　his　Kindath　chancellor。
　　They　strolled　through　the　thronged　lane；　twisting　and　turning　to　force　a　passage。　Alvar　kept　a　hand　on　the　wallet　at　his　belt。　A　place　such　as　this　was　Paradise　on　earth　for　a　cut…purse。　At　the　first　mask…maker's　stall　at　which　they　stopped；　Alvar　picked　up　an　eagle's　visage；　in　homage　to　the　Captain。　He　donned　it　and　the　craftsman；　nodding　vigorous　approval；　held　up　a　seeing　glass。　Alvar　didn't　recognize　himself。　He　looked　like　an　eagle。　He　looked　dangerous。
　　〃Excellent；〃　Jehane　pronounced。　〃Buy　it。〃
　　Alvar　winced；　behind　the　mask；　at　the　quoted　price；　but　Husari　did　the　bargaining　for　him；　and　the　cost　came　down　by　half。　Husari；　amused　and　witty　this　morning；　led　them　onward；　elbowing　through　the　crowd；　and　a　little　further　along　he　pounced　with　a　cry　upon　a　spectacular　rendition　of　a　peacock's　head　and　plumage。　He　put　it　on；　not　without　difficulty。　People　had　to　press　backwards　to　make　room。　The　mask　was　magnificent；　overwhelming。
　　〃No　one；〃　said　Jehane；　stepping　back　to　get　a　better　look　at　him；　〃will　be　able　to　get　anywhere　close　to　you。〃
　　〃I　might！〃　a　woman　cried　from　the　cluster　of　onlookers。　There　was　a　roar　of　ribald　laughter。　Husari　carefully　sketched　a　bow　to　the　woman。
　　〃There　are　ways　around　such　dilemmas；　Jehane；〃　Husari　said；　his　voice　resonating　oddly　from　behind　the　close…fitting　headpiece　and　spectacular　feathers。　〃Given　what　I　know　about　this　particular　festival。〃
　　Alvar　had　heard　the　stories　too。　The　barracks　and　taverns　and　the　towers　of　the　night　watch　had　been　full　of　them　for　weeks。　Jehane　tried；　unsuccessfully；　to　look　disapproving。　It　was　hard　to　disapprove　of　Husari；　Alvar　thought。　The　silk　merchant　seemed　to　be　one　of　those　men　whom　everyone　liked。　He　was　also　a　man　who　had　entirely　changed　his　life　this　past　year。
　　Once　portly　and　sedentary；　and　far　from　young；　ibn　Musa　was　now　fully　accepted　in　Rodrigo's　pany。　He　was　one　of　those　with　whom　the　Captain　took　counsel；　and　gruff　old　Lain　Nunez…Jaddite　to　the　tips　of　his　fingers；　for　all　his　profane　impieties…had　adopted　him　as　a　highly　unlikely　brother。
　　With　the　assistance　of　the　artisan；　Husari　removed　the　mask。　His　hair　was　disordered　and　his　face　flushed　when　he　emerged。
　　〃How　much；　my　friend？〃　he　asked。　〃It　is　an　almost　passable　contrivance。〃
　　The　artisan；　eyeing　him　closely；　quoted　a　price。　Ibn　Musa　let　out　a　shriek；　as　of　a　man　grievously　wounded。
　　〃I　think；〃　Jehane　said；　〃that　this　particular　negotiation　is　going　to　take　some　time。　Perhaps　Ziri　and　I　will　proceed　alone　from　here；　with　your　indulgence？　If　I'm　going　to　be　disguised　it　does　seem　pointless　for　everyone　to　know　what　I'm　wearing。〃
　　〃We　aren't　everyone；〃　Husari　protested；　turning　from　the　opening　salvos　of　the　bargaining　session。
　　〃And　you　know　our　masks　already；〃　Alvar　added。
　　〃I　do；　don't　I？〃　Jehane's　smile　flashed。　〃That's　useful。　If　I　need　either　of　you　during　the　Carnival　I'll　know　to　look　in　the　aviary。〃
　　〃Don't　be　placent；〃　Husari　said；　wagging　a　finger。　〃Alvar　may　well　be　in　a　mountain　cat's　lair。〃
　　〃He　wouldn't　do　that；〃　Jehane　said。
　　Husari　laughed。　Jehane；　after　a　brief　hesitation；　and　a　glance　at　Alvar；　turned　and　walked　on。　Clutching　his　eagle　visage；　Alvar　watched　her　go　until　she　and　Ziri　were　swallowed　by　the　crowd。
　　Husari；　after　a　negotiating　exercise　so　animated　it　drew　another　cluster　of　people　around　them　for　the　entertainment；　bought　the　peacock　mask　at　a　sum　that　represented　most　of　a　year's　ine　for　a　professional　soldier。　The　artisan　agreed　to　deliver　it　later；　when　the　crowds　had　thinned。
　　〃I　believe　I　need　a　drink；〃　ibn　Musa　declared。　〃Holy　Ashar　forgive　us　all　our　sins　in　this　world。〃
　　Alvar；　for　whom　it　wasn't　a　sin；　decided　he　wanted　one　too；　though　it　was　early　in　the　day　for　him。　They　had　several　flagons；　in　the　event；　before　leaving　the　tavern。
　　〃Mountain　cats；〃　Husari　said　musingly　at　one　point；　〃are　said　to　be　ferocious　in　their　coupling。〃
　　〃Don't　tell　me　things　like　that！〃　Alvar　groaned。
　　Husari　ibn　Musa…silk　merchant；　soldier；　Asharite；　friend…laughed　and　ordered　another　flask　of　the　good　red　wine。
　　
　　Walking　alone　through　the　crowd　past　the　mask…makers'　stalls；　Jehane　told　herself　sternly　that　the　deception　was　minor　and　that　she'd　every　right　to　her　privacy。　She　didn't　like　dissembling；　however；　and　she　cared　for　both　men　very　much。　She'd　even　surprised　herself　with　a　twinge　of　what　was　unmistakably　jealousy　when　that　long…legged　Asharite　creature　with　the　mountain　cat　mask　had　smiled　at　Alvar　in　a　way　that　left　little　room　for　ambiguity。
　　Still；　it　really　wasn't　any　of　Alvar's　business　or　Husari's　that　she　already　had　a　mask　for　the　Carnival；　courtesy　of　the　chancellor　of　Ragosa。　She　was　wearied　and　irritated　by　the　constant　speculation　that　surrounded　their　relationship。　The　more　so　since　the　arrival　of　the　alluring　figure　of　Zabira　of　Cartada　had　rendered　Mazur's　pursuit　of　Jehane　almost　entirely　ritualized。
　　It　was　inconsistent　to　be　as　bothered　by　his　largely　abandoned　attempts　at　conquest　as　she　had　been　by　his　earlier　assumption　that　her　surrender　was　merely　a　matter　of　time；　but　Jehane　was　acutely　conscious　that　this　was　exactly　how　she　felt。
　　She　sighed。　She　could　imagine　what　Ser　Rezzoni　in　Batiara　would　have　said　about　all　of　this。　Something　about　the　essential　nature　of　womankind。　The　god　and　his　sisters　knew；　they'd　argued　about　that　often　enough　during　her　years　in　Batiara。　She'd　written　him　since　learning　the　news　of　Sorenica。　No　reply；　as　yet。　He　was　there　most　of　the　time；　but　not　always。　He　often　took　his　family　north　with　him；　while　he　lectured　at　some　of　the　other　universities。　He　might　be　dead；　though。　She　tried　very　hard　to　avoid　thinking　about　that。
　　Looking　around；　she　spotted　Ziri　moving　through　the　crowd　a　short　distance　away。　For　a　time　after　she　and　Velaz　had　been　abducted　in　the　attempt　on　the　life　of　the　two　children；　Jehane　had　had　to　stave　off　a　flicker　of　anxiety　every　time　she　went　into　the　streets。　She　had　e　to　realize；　quickly　enough；　that　Ziri　was　always　nearby；　her　lithe　shadow；　learning…far　too　young…how　to　hide　knives　on　his　person　and　use　them　to　deadly　effect。　He　had　killed　a　man　to　save　her　life。
　　They'd　summoned　her　to　the　barracks　one　night　to　attend　to　Ziri。　He'd　appeared　deathly　ill　when　she　first　saw　him：　white…faced；　vomiting　convulsively。　It　had　only　been　wine；　though。　Rodrigo's　men　had　taken　him　to　a　tavern　for　the　first　time。　She'd　chided　them　angrily　for　that；　and　they'd　allowed　her　to　do　so；　but　in　truth；　Jehane　knew　they　were　initiating　him　into　a　life　that　offered　so　much　more　than　the　one　he　would　have　had　in　Orvilla。　Would　it　be　a　better　fate；　a　happier　one？　How　could　a　mortal　answer　that？
　　You　touched　people's　lives；　glancingly；　and　those　lives　changed　forever。　That　was　a　hard　thing　to　deal　with　sometimes。
　　Ziri　would　realize　soon　enough；　if　he　hadn't　already；　that　she　wasn't　really　buying　a　mask　this　morning。　That　didn't　matter。　He　would　be　torn　apart　between　stallions　before　he　said　a　word　to　a　living　soul　that　might　betray　anything　he　knew　about　her。
　　Jehane　was　learning　to　accept　that　people　besides　her　mother　and　father　might　love　her；　and　do　certain　things　because　of　that。　Another　hard　lesson；　oddly　enough。　She　had　not　been　beautiful　or　particularly　endearing　as　a　child；　contrary　and　provocative　were　closer　to　truth。　Such　people　didn't　discover　young　how　to　deal　with　being　loved；　she　thought。　They　didn't　get　enough　practice。
　　She　slowed　to　admire　some　of　the　handiwork　on　display。　It　was　remarkable　how　even　the　most　unlikely　masks…a　badger；　a　boar；　a　whiskered　grey　mouse's　head　made　of　softest　leather…were　crafted　in　such　a　fashion　as　to　be　sensuous　and　attractive。　How　could　the　head　of　a　boar　be　sensuous？　She　wasn't　sure；　but　she　wasn't　an　artisan；　either。　The　masks　would　be　even　more　alluring；　she　realized；　tomorrow　night　under　torchlight　and　the　risen　moons；　with　wine　running　in　the　streets　and　lanes　of　the　city；　mingling　anonymity　with　desire。
　　
　　Mazur　had　invited　her　to　dine　with　him　the　evening　before；　for　the　first　time　in　a　long　while；　and　at　the　end　of　the　meal　had　presented　her；　courteous　and　assured　as　ever；　with　a　gift。
　　She'd　opened　the　offered　box。　Even　the　container　was　beautiful：　ivory　and　sandalwood；　with　a　silver　lock　and　key。　Inside；　lying　on　crimson　silk；　had　been　the　mask　of　a　white　owl。
　　It　was　the　doctor's　owl；　Jehane　knew；　sacred　to　the　white　moon　and　the　pursuit　of　knowledge；　a　pale　light　flying　down　the　long　paths　of　the　dark。　Galinus；　father　of　all　physicians；　had　had　an　owl　carved　at　t