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毒药之颂,第一册

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2022-08-04更新

    

最新编辑:Lu_23333

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更新日期:2022-08-04

  

最新编辑:Lu_23333

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翻译:ANK、汤镬、大學和官中
数据:主要来自UESP Books

毒药之颂,第一册

毒药之颂,第一册


又开始了。虽然一切看似宁静(壁炉里的余火劈里啪啦作响;年轻女仆和孩子在门边的椅子上酣睡;墙上织到一半的挂毯等着明天被完成;窗外可见其中一个月亮从乳白云朵后探出脸;孤立的鸟儿藏身在屋梁,平静地咕咕叫),泰伊却听到那首歌的第一道和弦,从远处不协调地响起。

藏身屋梁的鸟儿粗叫几声,飞出窗外。女孩怀中的婴孩乍醒,嚎哭不已。那首歌回荡不去,不过节奏依旧隐微平缓。所有事物仿佛都随音乐的韵律而动,好像正上演着一出怪异的舞码:女孩爬上窗,云朵映射下方地狱的鲜红,她的尖叫没有声音,被那首歌吞噬了。其后的一切,泰伊看过好多次了,几乎停格脑中成为梦魇。

来到葛尼岛之前的事,他全不记得,但他知道他的过去必定有些特殊之处,将他和堂兄弟姐妹区隔开。不是因为他父母双亡,他的堂姐蓓娜拉也在战争中失去父母;也不是其他葛尼岛上或附近哀伤之城的家族成员对他不好,他们跟因督利尔家族的所有人一样,待他跟其他碍手碍脚的八岁孩子没什么不同。

不过,泰伊无比肯定,自己是孤单的。与众不同。因为他总是听到一首歌,而且还作那些恶梦。

“你只是想象力过剩”他的姑姑乌黎雅会先耐心笑笑,然后摆摆手要他离开,以便重拾她的经文和杂事。

“不一样?世界上每个人都觉得自己‘与众不同’,于是大家都一样变得多愁善感”泰伊的堂哥凯寇里斯如是说,他正努力学习,准备成为神殿祭司,对似是而非的悖论非常有一套。

“如果你跟其他人说你老是在没音乐的地方听到音乐,他们会说你疯了,然后把你埋在席欧钩拉思祭坛”他的叔叔崔斐斯会先这样大吼,然后大步走开做自己的事。

只有他的保母艾蒂芭会认真听他说话,不怎么自豪地点头,但她从不曾多言。

堂姐蓓娜拉是泰伊主要的玩伴,也是目前为止对他的歌和恶梦最不感兴趣的人。

“整天说这个你不烦吗,泰伊”在他八岁时的夏天,蓓娜拉说道。泰伊、蓓娜拉和他们的堂弟瓦士特走进繁花盛开的林中空地。这里的草非常短,几乎不到他们的脚踝,还有之前秋天余下的成堆发黑树叶。“我们说点别的吧,玩什么好呢?”

泰伊想了一会儿。“我们可以玩奥辛纽姆围城”

“那是什么?”他们的好同伴、小三岁的瓦士特问道。

“奥辛纽姆是兽人的家,深隐沃斯格理安山脉之中,几百年下来,这个城市越来越大越来越大。时不时,兽人会下山,来到高岩劫财劫色。后来,匕首雨的爵勒王和狄亚格纳骑士团的盖登·辛吉还有来自看守者之城的某个人,我忘了名字,他们联手对付奥辛纽姆,奋力不懈地打了三十年。奥辛纽姆有铁墙守护,无论他们如何尝试,就是无法攻破入城”

“后来呢?”蓓娜拉发问。

“你很会凭空捏造故事,干脆就编一下嘛!”

于是他们开始天马行空。泰伊是兽人国王,高高镇守在一棵他们称作奥辛纽姆的树上。蓓娜拉和瓦士特则扮演爵勒王和盖登·辛吉,在泰伊压低了嗓音奚落他们时,朝泰伊丢掷小石头和小树枝。他们三人决定让女神凯娜瑞丝(由蓓娜拉分饰两角)回应盖登·辛吉的祈祷,用滂沱大雨淹没奥辛纽姆,铁墙终于腐朽崩溃。就在此时,泰伊乐地从树上落地,让爵勒王和盖登·辛吉用他们的附魔刀剑将他大卸八块。

第一纪元675年夏天的大多数时间,泰伊几乎感受不到太阳的威力。尽管万里无云,但却几乎每晚下雨,葛尼岛上的植被因此无比繁茂。石头仿佛会随阳光发亮,沟渠则长满绣线菊和荷兰芹;围绕泰伊四周是花朵的轻柔香气和不受风儿打扰的青翠树木——纯绿、蓝绿、灰绿、白绿。宽大的穹顶、弯曲的卵石街道、葛尼岛上小村庄的茅草屋顶,以及杉笛尔之屋那白色巨石,在泰伊眼中好像全撒上了魔法。

可是无论是否清醒,盘据他夜晚的梦境还有那首歌依然持续。

每天早上,泰伊、蓓娜拉和瓦士特都不顾乌黎雅姑姑的训诫,和仆人在户外享用早餐。乌黎雅只可能在室内吃早餐,她的显要访客也没有其他选择,不过客人来访并不频繁,因此她通常都独自一人。佣人们起初都静静用餐,维持应有的礼节,不过后来他们打破了规则,开始用闲聊、传闻、故事和谣言娱乐孩子们。

“可怜的雅尼利又发烧了”

“我说啊,他们被诅咒了,每个人都是。对着仙女小便,她们也会照样回敬你”

“丝达西雅小小姐的肚子附近看起来,呃,是不是有一点点紧呀?”

“才没呢!”

唯一不发一语的仆人,便是泰伊的保母艾蒂芭。虽然她不像其他女仆那样漂亮,但她脸上的疤也没有让她变丑。她断过的鼻子和一头短发,让她有种异于他人的神秘。她只会在大家闲谈时静静微笑,然后以近乎吓人的爱意和忠诚看着泰伊。

有一天吃完早餐后,蓓娜拉小声对泰伊和瓦士特说:“我们得去岛屿另一边的小山丘”

以前她也用过这种命令口吻,而且总是让他们大开眼界:一座藏在蕨类和高耸岩石间的瀑布;一棵酷似蹲下人形的生病橡树;一面在他们想象中有千年历史的坍塌石墙,那儿是落难公主麦蕊拉(名字是他们取的)最后的避难所。

他们三个人穿过森林,来到一片空地。前方几百码,草地陷落干涸的河床,河道上布满光滑的小石子。他们沿着河道走进黑暗的树林,每棵树都高耸入天。潮湿的灌木丛点缀着红与黄的花朵,可是随着孩子们在连绵成荫的橡树和榆树一路前进,灌木丛变得越来越少。气氛因鸟儿而活络,它们断续的合唱,唱出那首歌的小和弦。


“我们要去哪里?”泰伊问道。

“重点不是我们要去哪里,而是我们会看到什么”蓓娜拉回答。

浓密的森林团团围住三个孩子,在他们身上洒下阴暗的色调,轻送出虫鸣鸟叫和幽幽叹息。他们轻易就能想象自己其实身在怪兽体内,正沿着它弯弯曲曲的石头脊椎往前走。

蓓娜拉爬上陡峭的山丘,从浓密的大树和灌木之间窥看。泰伊把瓦士特抬出河道,然后自己抓着柔软的草当支撑爬出来。这里没有穿过森林的路径。刺藤和低矮的树枝打在他们身上,仿佛被炼住的野兽伸出利爪。鸟鸣似乎益发响亮,好像在对有人入侵表达不满。有根树枝在瓦士特的脸颊画出一道血痕,但他没有痛喊。就连可以灵活穿梭茂密林间的蓓娜拉,也被刺藤钩住一条辫子,扯坏了之前仆人花费数小时编绑的繁复花样。她停下脚步,松开另一条辫子,让一头自有生命的秀发随意披散身后。现在的她充满野性,像个小仙女带领另外两人穿越她的森林属地。那首歌开始击出节奏,有如失控的脉搏。

他们在一块峭壁下方的突出岩石之上,俯瞰一座极深的峡谷,凝望一大片灰烬。那看来像大型战役的场景,烈火肆虐:烧黑了的箱子、武器军备、动物骸骨,和毁损严重到无法辨认为何的碎屑散落在地。泰伊和瓦士特哑口无言地踏上黑色的土地。蓓娜拉面露微笑,对自己终于找到神秘非凡的奇景,感到无比骄傲。

“这是什么地方?”瓦士特好不容易才能开口。

“我不知道”蓓娜拉耸耸肩。“我本来以为是某种废墟,但是现在我觉得是垃圾堆,只不过跟以前见过的不一样。看看这些东西”

他们三个人开始随意在灰尘满布的土石堆中翻找。蓓娜拉发现一把只有一点点熏黑的怪剑,便开始擦拭好看清楚刀刃上的刻印。瓦士特手脚并用地破坏脆弱的盒子自娱,想象自己是有超大力气的巨人。而泰伊则被一个压扁了的盾牌吸引:它跟那首歌有某种关联。他把盾牌拉出来,将表面擦干净。

“我没看过这个徽饰”蓓娜拉从泰伊的肩上探过头。

“我觉得我有,只是不记得了”泰伊悄声说,试图从梦中唤回记忆。他很确定他曾在梦中看过这个。

“你们看!”瓦士特大喊,打断了泰伊的思绪。男孩高举着一颗水晶球。当他的手滑过球体表面,抹去砂砾和尘土,那首歌的一个音阶突然出现,一阵颤栗窜过泰伊全身。蓓娜拉跑去看瓦士特的宝贝,但泰伊却动弹不得。

“你在哪里找到的?”她上气不接下气,专注凝视着水晶表层下的漩涡。

“在那边那辆马车上”瓦士特指着一堆变黑了的木头,乍看之下跟其他废物堆没什么不同,唯有车身道出它原本的身分。蓓娜拉开始往下挖掘半塌的结构体,因此从外只能看到她的脚。那首歌的力量逐渐增强,席卷而过泰伊。他开始慢慢朝瓦士特走去。

“把那个给我”他几乎认不出那低语的嗓音是自己的。

“不要”瓦士特小声回道,眼睛紧盯着球体中心反射而出的色彩。“这是我的”

蓓娜拉又继续在马车的残骸堆挖了几分钟,不过却没有瓦士特的好运。大部分的东西都已毁坏,剩下的都是普通的玩意儿:断掉的箭、盔甲残片、轧兽的骨头。她相当失望地回到阳光之下。

泰伊一个人站在大峡谷边。

“瓦士特呢?”

泰伊眨眨眼,然后转身耸个肩,咧嘴一笑。“他回去跟大家炫耀他的新发现了。你有找到什么有趣的东西吗?”

“没有”蓓娜拉说。“我们差不多该回去了,免得瓦士特说溜嘴,害我们倒楣”

泰伊和蓓娜拉快步往回走。泰伊知道他们回去时,不会看到瓦士特。他永远不会回家了。那颗水晶球被好好地收在泰伊的背包里,藏在一堆他捡来的旧东西下面。他全心全意祈祷那首歌再度响起,驱走峡谷的回忆和那漫长却沉默的坠落。男孩实在太过惊讶,连大叫的时间都没有。


The Poison Song, Book I

The Poison Song, Book I


It was beginning again. Even though everything seemed serene (the last embers crackling in the hearth; young servant girl and her child slumbering in a chair by the door; a tapestry half-finished against the wall, waiting to be completed tomorrow; one of the moons visible through a milky cloud outside the window; a lone bird, out of sight in the rafters, cooing placidly), Tay heard the first chords of the Song strike dissonantly somewhere far away.


The bird in the rafters croaked and took flight through the window. The baby in the girl's arms woke and began to scream. The Song swelled in intensity, yet still remained subtle and stately in tempo. The movement of everything seemed to take on the rhythm of the music as if strange choreography had been staged: the girl rising to the window, the clouds reflecting back red from the inferno below, her scream, all muted, consumed by the Song. Everything that came thereafter Tay had seen so many times, it had almost ceased to be a nightmare.


He did not remember anything of his life before coming to the island of Gorne, but he understood that there was something different in his past that set him apart from his cousins. It wasn't simply that his parents were dead. His cousin Baynarah's parents had also died in the War. Nor were the other Housemen on Gorne or nearby Mournhold unusually cruel to him. They treated him with the same polite indifference that any Indoril has for every other eight-year-old boy that got underfoot.


But somehow, with absolutely certainty, Tay knew he was alone. Different. Because of a Song he always heard, and his nightmares.


"You're certainly imaginative," his aunt Ulliah would smile patiently, before waving him away so she could return to her scriptures and chores.


"Different? Everyone in the world thinks they're 'different,' that's what makes it such a common sentiment," said his older cousin Kalkorith who was studying to be Temple priest and had a firm grasp on paradoxes.


"If you tell anyone else that you keep hearing music where there's no music to be heard, they'll call you mad and bury you in the Shrine of Sheogorath," his uncle Triffith would snarl, before striding away to attend his business.


Only his nursemaid Edebah would listen to him seriously, and just nod with a faint look of pride. But she would never say another word.


His cousin and chief playmate Baynarah was by far the least interested in the stories of his Song and his dreams.


"How tiresome you are with all this, Tay," said Baynarah, after luncheon the summer of his eighth year. He, she, and a younger cousin Vaster walked into a clearing in the midst of flowering trees. The grass was very low, barely up to their ankles, and there were big black piles of leaves from the previous autumn. "Now, shall we get back to it? What shall we play?"


Tay thought for a moment. "We could play the Siege of Orsinium."

"What's that?" asked Vaster, their constant companion, three years their junior.


"Orsinium was the home of the orcs, off in the Wrothgarian Mountains. For hundreds of years, it kept growing bigger and bigger and bigger. The orcs would come down out of the mountains and rape and pillage all over High Rock. And then, King Joile of Daggerfall and Gaiden Shinji of the Order of Diagna and someone else, I forget, from Sentinel all joined together against Orsinium. For thirty years they fought and fought. Orsinium had walls made out of iron and, try as they might, they couldn't break through."


"So what happened?" asked Baynarah.

"You're so good at making up things that never happened, why don't you make it up?"


So they did. Tay was the King of the Orcs, perched up in a tree they called Orsinium. Baynarah and Vaster played King Joile and Gaiden Shinji and they threw pebbles and sticks up at Tay while he taunted them in his most guttural voice. The three decided that the Goddess Kynareth (played by Baynarah in dual role) answered the prayers of Gaiden Shinji and drenched Orsinium in a torrent of rain. The walls rusted and dissolved. On cue, Tay obligingly fell from the tree and let King Joile and Gaiden Shinji mangle him with their enchanted blades.


For the most of that summer, the year 675 of the First Era, Tay was nearly insensible by the power of the sun. There were no clouds, but it rained most every night, so the vegetation on the island of Gorne was bewildering lush. The stones themselves seemed to glow with sunlight, and the ditches burned with white meadowsweet and parsleydown; all around him were soft smells of flower and tree untroubled by wind; the foliage was purple green, blue green, ash green, white green. The wide cupolas, twisting cobbled streets, and thatched roofs of the little village of Gorne, and massive bleached rock of Sandil House all were magical to him.


Yet the dreams haunted his nights and the Song continued whether he was awake or not.


Against Aunt Ulliah's admonishments, Tay, Baynarah, and Vaster had breakfast outdoors every morning with the servants. Ulliah would hold an interior breakfast for herself and any visiting dignitaries: guests were rare, so she often ate alone. At first the servants would dine in silence, attempting gentility, but they broke down and would regale the children with gossip, reports, stories, and rumors.


"Poor Arnyle is laid up with a fever again."

"I'm telling you, they're cursed. The whole lot of 'em. Piss on the faerie and they piss right back on you."


"Doesn't Little Miss Starsia look, oh, just a wee bit tight around the belly region late-ly?"


"She's not!"

The only servant who didn't speak at all was Tay's nursemaid Edebah. She wasn't pretty like the other maids, but the scars on her face did not deform her. Her poorly set broken nose and her short hair gave her a certain alien mystique. She would merely quietly smile at the gossip, and look at Tay with almost frightening love and devotion.


One day, after breakfast, Baynarah whispered to Tay and Vaster, "We have to go to the hills on the other side of the island."


She had used such imperatives before and always had something wonderful to show: a waterfall, tucked away behind ferns and tall rocks; a sunny grove of figs; a discreet still some peasants had set up; a sickly oak, twisted into a kneeling human figure; a collapsed stone wall that they imagined was thousands of years old, the last refuge of a doomed princess they named Merella.


The three walked across through the forest until they came to a clearing. A few hundred feet beyond, the meadow sank to a dry creek bed, filled with small, smooth stones. They followed that into the dark woods where trees canopied high over their heads. Sporadic red and yellow blossoms burst along the moist underbrush, but they became rarer and rarer as the children marched on under the umbrageous oaks and elms. The air crackled with birds ticking a staccato choral piece, a minor chord of the Song.


"Where are we going?" asked Tay.

"It's not where we're going, it's what we're going to see," replied Baynarah.

The forest surrounded the three children completely, bathed them in its tenebrous hues, and breathed on them with wet chirrups and sighs. It was easy for them to imagine that they were within a monster, walking along its twisted spine of stones.


Baynarah scrambled up the steep hill and peered through the thick mass of shrub and tree. Tay lifted Vaster out of the creek bed and climbed out, gripping soft grass for support. There was no path through the forest here. Brambles and low hanging branches struck at them like the claws of chained beasts. The cries of the birds became ever more stentorious, as if angered at the invasion. One limb drew blood on Vaster's cheek, but he didn't cry out. Even Baynarah, who could pass like an ethereal creature through impenetrable forests, had a braid catch on a bramble, ruining the intricate pattern a servant had woven hours before. She paused to pull out the other braid, so her bright unruly tresses fell freely behind her. Now she was something wild, a nymph guiding the other two through her woodland domain. The Song began to beat like a wild pulse.


They were on a shelf of stone below a cliff overlooking a tremendous gorge, staring over an expanse of cinder. It looked like the scene of a tremendous battle, a holocaust of fire. Charred boxes, weaponry, animal bones, and detritus too annihilated to be identifiable littered the ground. Speechless, Tay and Vaster stepped into the black field. Baynarah smiled, proud that she had finally found something of true wonder and mystery.


"What is this place?" asked Vaster at last.

"I don't know," Baynarah shrugged. "I thought at first that it was some kind of ruin, but now I think it's a junk pile, just not like any junk pile I've ever seen. Just look at this stuff."


The three began an unorganized survey of the dusty mounds of refuse. Baynarah found a twisted sword only lightly blackened by flame and began polishing it to read the inscriptions on the blade. Vaster amused himself by breaking brittle boxes with his hands and feet, imagining himself a giant of unbelievable strength. A battered shield attracted Tay: there was something about it that reverberated with the sound of the Song. He pulled it out, and wiped its surface clean.


"I've never seen that crest before," said Baynarah, looking over Tay's shoulder.


"I think I have, but I don't remember," Tay whispered, trying to conjure the memory from his dreams. He was sure he had seen it there.


"Look at this!" Vaster cried, interrupting Tay's thoughts. The boy was holding up a crystal orb. As his hand moved over the surface, brushing away grit and dust, a key in the Song rose which sent a shiver through Tay's entire body. Baynarah ran over to look at Vaster's treasure, but Tay felt paralyzed.


"Where did you find that?" she gasped, gazing into the swirl beneath the crystal surface.


"Over in that wagon," Vaster gestured toward a heap of blackened wood, barely discernible from the other piles but for its cart spokes. Baynarah began digging into the half-collapsed structure, so only her feet could be seen. The Song built in potency, sweeping over Tay. He began walking toward Vaster slowly.


"Give me that," he whispered in a voice he could barely recognize as his own.

"No," Vaster whispered back, his eyes locked on the colors reflected in the heart of the globe. "It's mine."


Baynarah dug through the remains of the wagon for several more minutes, but she could find no treasures like Vaster's. Most everything within was destroyed, and what remained was common-place by any standards: broken arrows, armor shards, guar bones. Frustrated, she pulled herself out into the sunlight.


Tay was alone, at the edge of the great gorge.

"Where's Vaster?"

Tay blinked and then turned back to his cousin with a shrug and a grin: "He went back to show everyone his new plunder. Did you find anything interesting?"


"Not really," said Baynarah. "We probably ought to get back home before Vaster tells them anything that'll get us in trouble."


Tay and Baynarah started the walk back at a quick pace. Tay knew that Vaster would not be there when they got back. He would never be returning home again. The crystal globe rested snugly in Tay's satchel, hidden under a pile of junk he had picked up. With all his heart, he prayed for the Song to return and drown out the memory of the gorge and the long, silent fall down. The boy had been so surprised, he hadn't even time to scream.