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毒药之颂，第六册
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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
毒药之颂，第六册
毒药之颂，第六册
荫都雷尼昂要塞的壮观建筑在夕阳照耀下镀上红光。贾思莱指挥官带领着车队往西南方前进，看着落日渐渐消失于地平线。在夜间行动不是他的一贯作风，不过比起他眼前所见，这实在没什么大不了。他才七十岁，对“波兹莫”而言还是壮年，但他却觉得自己属于另一个纪元。
他对东瓦登费尔再熟悉不过。介于红山和鬼魂之海间的每片森林、每座花园、每个小村子，都像他的家。但自从日亡年红山爆发之后，现在全不一样了，如今夜间旅行更为险恶，但这是他奉命要冒的险。
灰烬泥沼的出现有些出乎意料，要不是有个眼尖的侦查兵事先看到并发出警告，搞不好全车队就陷入其中了。贾思莱咒骂一声。这个泥沼不在地图上，但那实在不足为奇。
这片无名泥地漫无边际，指挥官思索着可行的办法。或许他可以把队伍带往东南方的泰尔亚鲁，然后再西转。他研究着地图，注意到远方闪着营火的火光。在副手的陪同下，贾思莱骑着他的轧兽前往侦查，发现了一对灰烬人男女。
“这里不再是你们的土地”他大声喝道。“难道你们不知道这里已由神殿治理，如今属于家族领土吗？”
那对男女有些笨拙地站起来，慢慢走开，往夹在山丘和灰烬泥沼之间的狭长山脊而去。
“你们知道绕过这片湮没之境的路吗？”他问。他们点头，目光依然直视地面。贾思莱对车队示意。“那么带路吧”
这条险道曲折崎岖，轧兽几乎寸步难行，车夫扯紧了篷车，避开灰烬泥沼，车体因而发出刺耳的声音。这对灰烬人男女领着车队前进，两人低声交头接耳。
“死奴隶，你们嘀咕些什么？”贾思莱大吼。
男人没有转身。“我妹妹和我在说达格斯叛乱，她猜你们要将武器运往法联撒拉诺要塞，所以才会选择越过灰烬泥沼而不走大路”
贾思莱大笑。“我早知道你们灰烬人迫不及待想看到家族和神殿出现麻烦。抱歉泼冷水，不过你们提到的问题根本称不上叛乱，只是几桩零星的……恼人事件。把这些跟你妹妹说”
他们沉重又缓慢地继续前进，狭长的山脊开始越来越窄。灰烬人在丘陵中找到一条锯齿状的浅裂缝，这由岩浆造成的缝隙形成之时甚至早于日亡。车队穿越其中，刮过岩壁。在不熟悉土地上游走了二十年，贾思莱指挥官深知事物变幻无常的道理，他的直觉发出警讯。这是设下埋伏的完美地点，他心想。
“灰烬人，快到了吗？”他吼道。
“我们已经到了”达格斯·泰伊松回答，发出讯号。
这波攻击以迅雷不及掩耳之势结束。直到最后一名家族守卫的尸体沉入灰烬泥沼，车队的运载物资才终于曝光。结果比他们的期望更好，几乎满足了策动叛乱的所有需求。魔族剑、数十套盔甲、插满一袋袋箭套的黑檀箭，和足以撑上好几星期的口粮。
“先回营地去”泰伊松对妹妹微笑。“我来带领车队。我们应该几个小时就会到了”
雅可拉热情地吻他，然后使出传送术。眨眼间她便回到自己的帐篷，之前她也是这样离开的。她哼着那首歌，脱下灰烬人的破烂装束，然后从箱子里挑了一件近乎透明的长袍穿上，正是泰伊松回来时会乐于看到她穿着的衣物。
“默莱莎！”她叫唤着仆人。“赶快召集军队！泰伊松很快就会和其他人带着我们需要的武器和粮食回来！”
“默莱莎现在听不到”一个雅可拉好几周未曾听闻的声音回道。她转身，高明地藏住所有的惊讶情绪。那个女人确实是因督利尔·蓓娜拉，但却不是那个她留在杉笛尔之屋屠杀现场的发抖可怜鬼。眼前的女人是名武装战士，说话时带着一种嘲弄的自信。“她无法召集军队。雅可拉，或许你有武器和军粮，但却没有可以拿武器或吃粮食的人”
达格斯·雅可拉使出传送术，可是毫无动静。
“一听到你在帐篷里砰砰作响，我们的战场法师就施法让所有法力消散”蓓娜拉微微一笑，打开帐篷引进其他家族士兵。
“如果你以为我哥哥会中你的圈套，你就太小看他对那首歌的忠诚了”雅可拉讥笑道。“所有该知道的事，那首歌都会跟他说。我确信他已经不再抗拒它，而是跟随它的指引，以达成我们的最终胜利”
“我对他的认识，比你久也比你深入”蓓娜拉语调冷酷。“现在，我要知道那首歌跟你说了什么，我要知道哪里才能找到泰伊”
“是泰伊松，我的女士”雅可拉纠正她。“他已经不是你们家族和神殿谎言下的奴隶了。你想怎么折磨我都行，但我保证你如果见到他，是因为他愿意，而不是你想，并且那将是你活着的最后时刻。
“不劳你操心，小姐”蓓娜拉的夜刃卫士朝她眨眨眼。“大家都说他们不会被折磨打垮，但最终每个人总会崩溃。
蓓娜拉离开帐篷。这些全是战事的一部分，她明白，可是亲眼目睹并不是什么乐事。她甚至受不了看到家族士兵弃置叛乱份子的尸体。几星期以来，她追逐着泰伊松和雅可拉，经历一场又一场的杀戮，她曾希望能对这一切血腥暴力变得麻木不仁。就算这些尸体是她的敌人，也没让她好过一些，死亡就是死亡。
她才回到她的帐篷几分钟，夜刃卫士就来了。
“一副强悍的样子，也不过尔尔”他咧开嘴。“事实上，我只不过好声好气询问，顺道用匕首指着她的肚子，她就全吐出来了。我倒是不太惊讶。说大话的总是最快垮的。我记得好多年以前，你都还没出生呢——”
“甘卢安，她说了什么？”蓓娜拉问道。
“那首歌——天知道那是什么——告诉她哥哥，她被抓了，叫他不要回来营地”那名夜刃卫士回答，对他的精采故事被打断了有点不高兴。“他手下有六个精灵，他们打算刺杀红山战役时领导因督利尔军队的家伙。因督利尔·崔斐斯将军”
“是崔斐斯叔叔”蓓娜拉倒抽一口气。“他现在驻扎在哪里？”
“我不确定，小姐。你要我问问她吗？”
“我跟你去”蓓娜拉说。他们朝雅可拉的帐篷走去，警报突然响起，即使他们还没走到目的地，却已经对情势了然于胸。他们失去三名守卫，而囚犯不见踪影。
“很有趣的女人”甘卢安说。“内心脆弱，手劲却很强。我们是不是该送出警告信给因督利尔·崔斐斯将军？”
“如果我们能及时找出他在哪里”蓓娜拉说。
The Poison Song, Book VI
The Poison Song, Book VI
The magnificent sprawl of the stronghold of Indoranyon was aglow in the light of the setting sun. Commander Jasrat watched it slowly disappear into the horizon as he led the caravan southwestward. It was a strange practice for him to lead a night operation, but scarcely more bizarre than anything else he was facing. He was only seventy years of age, far from old for a Bosmer, and yet he felt like he belonged to another era.
He had known the land of east Vvardenfell his entire life. Every forest, every garden, every small village between Red Mountain and the Sea of Ghosts had been home to him. But now it was all different, twisted into a world he did not recognize since the eruption and the year of Sun's Death. It made night travel all the more treacherous, but it was a risk he was ordered to take.
The ashmire appeared quite suddenly. If a sharp-sighted scout hadn't seen it and given the signal, the entire caravan might have been swallowed whole. Jasrat cursed. It had not been on the map, but that was hardly surprising.
It was a huge unnamed scathe stretching as far as anyone could see. The commander considered his options. He might lead his party to the southeast toward Tel Aruhn and then try an approach due west. As he consulted his map, he noticed a glimmer of a campfire in the distance. Accompanied by his lieutenants, Jasrat drove his guar forward to investigate what appeared to be an Ashlander man and woman.
"This is no longer your realm," he bellowed. "Don't you know it's been ruled by the Temple that these are House lands now?"
The couple shuffled to their feet, and began quietly walking away, toward a narrow ridge between hill and ashmire. Jasrat called them back.
"Do you know a way around the scathe?" he asked. They nodded, their eyes still to the ground. Jasrat signaled to his caravan. "You will lead us then."
It was a treacherous winding crossing, almost too tight for the guars. The wagons themselves scraped as the drivers pulled to avoid the ashmire. The Ashlander man and woman whispered to one another as they led the caravan.
"What are you mumbling about, n'wah?" Jasrat hollered.
The man did not turn around. "My sister and I were talking about the Dagoth rebellion, and she was guessing that you were bringing arms to the stronghold at Falensarano, which is why you chose to cross the ashmire rather than taking a road."
"I might have known," Jasrat laughed. "You Ashlanders are so hopeful whenever you see signs of trouble in the Houses and the Temple. I hate to dampen your spirits, but what you're speaking of is hardly a rebellion. Merely a few isolated incidents of... unpleasantness. Tell your sister that."
As they plodded onward, the narrow ridge began to taper even more. The Ashlanders found a low jagged crevasse in the hills, a crack from a lava flow even predating Sun's Death. The caravan scored the rock walls at it moved through. Commander Jasrat, after twenty years of uncertainty in a land he did not understand, felt a twinge of his old instinct. This, he thought to himself, would be a fine place for an ambush.
"Ashlander, how close are we?" he shouted.
"We've arrived," Dagoth-Tython replied, and gave the signal.
The assault was over in mere minutes, as it had been calculated from the start. When the last body of the House guard had sunk beneath the ashmire, only then was the inventory of the caravan revealed. It was better than they had hoped, virtually everything the rebellion needed. Daedric swords, dozens of suits of armor, quivers of fine ebony bolts, and rations enough to last for weeks.
"Go on ahead to the camp," Tython smiled at his sister. "I'll lead the caravan. We should be there within a few hours' time."
Acra kissed him passionately, and gave the sign of Recall. In an instant, she was back in her tent, exactly as she had left it. Humming the Song, she removed the Ashlander rags and chose an appropriately diaphanous gown from her trunks. Precisely the sort of dress Tython would love seeing her in when he returned.
"Muorasa!" she called to her servant. "Summon the troops together! Tython and the others will be here very soon with all the weapons and rations we need!"
"Muorasa can't hear you now," said a voice Acra hadn't heard in weeks. She turned, expertly removed every trace of surprise from her face. It was indeed Indoril-Baynarah, but not the quivering creature she had left behind at the massacre at Sandil House. This woman was an armored warrior, who spoke with mocking confidence. "She wouldn't be able to summon the troops if she could. You may have weapons and rations, Acra, but there's no one left to arm or feed."
Dagoth-Acra made the sign of Recall, but nothing happened.
"The moment we heard you banging around in the tent, my battlemages cast a diffusion of all magicka," Baynara smiled, opening the tent further to invite a dozen House soldiers in. "You won't be leaving."
"If you think that my brother will walk into your trap, you underestimate his allegiance to the Song," Acra sneered. "It tells him everything he needs to know. I have convinced him to no longer fight it, and let it lead him and us to our ultimate victory."
"I've known him longer and better than you ever did," said Baynarah coldly. "Now, I want to hear what the Song is saying to you. I want to know where I can find Tay."
"Tython, my lady," Acra corrected her. "He is no longer a slave to your House and the Temple's lies. You can torture me all you wish, but I swear to you the next time you see him, it will be because he wishes it, not you. And that will be your very last moment alive."
"Don't you worry, serjo," Baynarah's nightblade winked at her. "Everyone says they won't break under torture, but everyone always does."
Baynarah left the tent. It was all a part of warfare, she understood that, but there would be little relish in witnessing it. She could not even watch as the House soldiers disposed of the rebel corpses. She had hoped she would grow numb to the bloodshed after weeks of following Tython and Acra, massacre after massacre. It didn't matter to her that now the bodies were of her enemies. Death was still death.
She had only been in her tent for a few minutes when her nightblade appeared.
"Not so tough as she appeared, that one," he grinned. "In point of fact, all I had to do is ask her nice and point my dagger at her belly, and she was blubbering everything. Not too surprising really. It's always the ones that talk big that crumble fast. I remember way back a couple years ago, before you was even born -"
"Garuan, what did she say?" Baynarah asked.
"The Song, whatever that is, told her brother that she got herself caught, and not to return to camp," the nightblade replied, only a trifle annoyed at having his fascinating story cut short. "He's got a half dozen mer with him, and they're going to try to assassinate the fella that led the Indoril army in the War. General Indoril-Triffith."
"Uncle Triffith," Baynarah gasped. "Where is he stationed now?"
"I'm not sure myself, serjo. Do you want me to ask if she knows?"
"I'll come with you," said Baynarah. As they walked towards Acra's tent, cries of alarm sounded. The situation became abundantly clear even before they reached the site. Three guards were dead, and the prisoner had escaped.
"Interesting woman," said Garuan. "Weak heart, but a strong arm. Should we send word of warning to General Indoril-Triffith?"
"If we can find where he is in time," said Baynarah.
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