Assassin's Apprentice - Страница 71

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Our way led steadily uphill now. We wound our way between the steepest slopes, but we were unmistakably making our way up into the mountains. One afternoon we met with a deputation from Jhaampe, sent to greet us and guide us on our way. After that, we seemed to travel faster, and every evening we were entertained with musicians, poets, and jugglers, and feasted with their delicacies. Every effort was made to welcome us and to honor us. But I found them passing strange and almost frightening in their differences. Often I was forced to remind myself of what both Burrich and Chade had taught me about the courtesies, while poor Hands withdrew almost totally from these new companions.

Physically, most of them were Chyurda, and were as I had expected them to be: a tall, pale people, light of hair and eye, and some with hair as red as a fox. They were a brawny people, the women as well as the men. All seemed to carry a bow or a sling, and they were obviously more comfortable afoot than on horseback. They dressed in wool and leather, and even the humblest wore fine furs as if they were no more than homespun. They strode alongside us, mounted as we were, and seemed to have no difficulty keeping up with the horses all day. They sang as they walked, long songs in an ancient tongue that sounded almost mournful, but were interspersed with shouts of victory or delight. I was later to learn they were singing us their history, that we might know better what kind of a people our prince was joining us to. I gathered that they were, for the most part, minstrels and poets, the “hospitable” ones, as their language translated it, traditionally sent to greet guests and to make them glad they had come even before they arrived.

As the next two days passed, our trail widened, for other paths and roads fed into it the closer we came to Jhaampe. It became a broad tradeway, sometimes paved with a crushed white stone. And the closer we came to Jhaampe, the greater our procession became, for we were joined by contingents from villages and tribes, pouring in from the outer reaches of the Mountain Kingdom to see their princess pledge herself to the powerful Prince from the lowlands. Soon, with dogs and horses and some sort of goat they used as pack beasts, with wains of gifts and folk of every walk and degree trailing in families and knots behind us, we came to Jhaampe.

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Jhaampe

...

“. . . And so let them come, the people of who I am, and when they reach the city, let them always be able to say, ‘This is our city and our home, for however long we wish to stay.’ Let there always be spaces left, let [words obscured] of the herds and flocks. Then there will be no strangers in Jhaampe, but only neighbors and friends, coming and going as they will.” And the will of the Sacrifice was observed in this, as in all things.

*

So I read years later, in a fragment from a Chyurda holy tablet, and so finally came to understand Jhaampe. But that first time, as we rode up the hills toward Jhaampe, I was both disappointed and awed at what I saw.

The temples, palaces, and public buildings reminded me of the immense closed blossoms of tulips, both in color and shape. The shape they owe to the once traditional stretched-hide shelters of the nomads who founded the city; the colors purely to the mountain folk’s love of color in everything. Every building had been recently restained in preparation for our coming and the Princess’s nuptials, and thus they were almost garishly bright. Shades of purple seemed to dominate, set off by yellows, but every color was represented. It is best compared, perhaps, to chancing upon a patch of crocus, pushing up through snow and black earth, for the bare black rocks of the mountains and the dark evergreens made the bright colors of the buildings even more impressive. Additionally, the city itself is built on an area fully as steep as Buckkeep Town, so that when one beholds it from below, the color and lines of it are presented in layers, like an artful arrangement of flowers in a basket.

But as we drew closer we were able to see that between and among the great buildings were tents and temporary huts and tiny shelters of every kind. For at Jhaampe, only the public buildings and the royal houses are permanent. All else is the ebb and flow of folk coming to visit their capital city, to ask judgment of the Sacrifice, as they call the King or Queen who rules there, or to visit the repositories of their treasures and knowledge, or simply to trade and visit with other nomads. Tribes come and go, tents are pitched and inhabited for a month or two, and then one morning, all is bare-swept earth where they were, until another group moves in to claim the spot. Yet it is not a disorderly place, for the streets are well defined, with stone stairs set into the steeper places. Wells and bath houses and steams are located at intervals throughout the city, and the strictest rules are observed about garbage and offal. It is also a green city, for the outskirts of it are pastures, for those who bring their herds and horses with them, with tenting areas defined by the shade trees and wells there. Within the city are stretches of garden, flowers, and sculpted trees, more artfully tended than anything I had ever seen in Buckkeep. The visiting folk leave their creations among these gardens, and they may take the form of stone sculptures or carvings of wood, or brightly painted pottery creatures. In a way, it put me in mind of the Fool’s room, for in both places were color and shape set out simply for the pleasure of the eye.

Our guides halted us at a pasture outside of the city and indicated it had been set aside for us. After a bit of time it became obvious that they expected we would leave our horses and mules here and proceed on foot. August, who was the nominal head of our caravan, did not handle this very diplomatically. I winced as he almost angrily explained that we had brought with us much more than we could be expected to carry into the city, and that many there were too weary from traveling to relish the idea of the uphill walk. I bit my lip and forced myself to stand quietly, to witness the polite confusion of our hosts. Surely Regal had known of these customs; why had he not warned us of them so we would not begin our visit by appearing boorish and unaccommodating?

But the hospitable folk tending to us swiftly adapted to our strange ways. They bid us rest and begged us to be patient with them. For a time we all stood about, vainly trying to appear comfortable. Rowd and Sevrens joined Hands and me. Hands had a slosh or two of wine left in a skin, and this he shared, while Rowd grudgingly reciprocated with some smoked meat in strips. We talked, but I confess I paid little attention. I wished I had the courage to go to August and entreat him to be more adaptable to the ways of this people. We were their guests, and it was already bad enough that the groom had not come in person to carry off his bride. I watched from a distance as August consulted with several elder lords who had come with us, but from the motions of their hands and heads I deduced that they were only agreeing with him.

Moments later a stream of sturdy Chyurda youths and maidens appeared on the road above us. Bearers had been summoned to help carry our goods into the city, and from somewhere bright tents were conjured for those servants who would stay here to tend the horses and mules. I much regretted to find that Hands would be one of those left behind. I entrusted Sooty to him. Then I shouldered the cedar herb chest and slung my personal bag from my other shoulder. As I joined the procession of those walking into the city, I smelled meats sizzling and tubers cooking, and saw our hosts setting up an open-sided pavilion and assembling tables within it. Hands, I decided, would not fare poorly, and almost I wished I had nothing more to do than tend the animals and explore this bright city.

We had not gone far up the winding street ascending into the city before we were met by a flock of litters carried by tall Chyurda women. We were earnestly invited to mount into these litters and be carried into the city, and many apologies were made that we had been wearied by our trip. August, Sevrens, the older lords, and most of the ladies of our party seemed only too happy to take advantage of this offer, but for me, it was a humiliation to be carried into the city. But it would have been even ruder to turn down their polite insistence, and so I surrendered my chest to a boy obviously younger than myself, and mounted into a litter borne by women old enough to be my grandmother. I blushed to see how curiously the folk on the streets regarded us, and how they stopped to talk quickly together as we passed. I saw few other litters, and they were inhabited by those obviously old and infirm. I set my teeth and tried not to think what Verity would have felt about this display of ignorance. I tried to look out pleasantly on those we passed, and to let my delight in their gardens and graceful buildings show on my face.

I must have succeeded in this, for presently my litter began to move more slowly, to allow me more time to see things, and the women to point to anything they thought I might have missed noticing. They spoke to me in Chyurda and were delighted to find I had a crude understanding of their language. Chade had taught me the little he knew, but he had not prepared me for how musical the language was, and it soon became apparent to me that the pitch of the word was as important as the pronunciation. Fortunately, I had a quick ear for languages, so I blundered manfully into conversation with my bearers, resolved that by the time I spoke to my betters in the palace, I would no longer sound quite so much an outland fool. One woman undertook to give me a commentary on all she passed. Jonqui, her name was, and when I told her mine was FitzChivalry, she muttered it to herself several times as if to fix it in her mind.

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