竖琴手同盟：焦灼之海 第二章[下]
嗯嗯，首先感谢David Lee提供珍贵的译名资料
结果是从这一章起所有地名和物品名大改版……
人名还是遵从前一章
以下是译名对照表
At'ar 阿塔，无慈悲者，贝都因的复仇之神
N'asr 纳瑟尔，无情者，亡者之主
现在他们把西瑞克当成NSAR，另外，ARTAR可能是本沙芭的化身
aba 亚伯，阿拉伯长袍，毛的那种。前译阿巴
Anauroch 蛮牛沙漠，又译埃诺奥克（沙漠），位于费伦北部
Bedine 贝都因人，又译贝戴蛮族
Bordjias 伯达耶雅斯
El a'sarad 艾尔阿萨拉德
El Ma’ra 艾尔玛拉。前译埃尔玛拉
keffiyeh 克非耶赫，阿拉伯头巾
khowwan 寇宛，FR的贝都因人部落
khreima 廓瑞玛，贝都因人的帐篷，从家庭用到社区用的都有
jambiya 扬毕亚，阿拉伯弯匕首
Mar At’ar的误拼。这一版的质量真是……
Mtair Dhafir 马太尔塔非尔。前译米塔尔达费尔
Qahtan 夸贺坦，廓坦。前译卡坦
她一踏上沙漠多石的地面，就检查自己的面纱是否妥当，然后踉跄着朝那人走去。
骑手见她的状况，解开水袋滑下鞍来。他把长枪插进最近的沙丘，然后把领头骆驼的缰绳系在枪柄上。他奔向露哈，但没有跑，因为一个聪明人是绝对不会在白日的酷热中跑的。
寡妇的对他的第一印象是个牧童，因为他脸上甚至没有胡子的痕迹，他的身形骄傲而强壮，如阿扎曼，可他的皮肤看上去像幼犬的毛皮般光滑，而且他还不如她高：他绝对不超过十三四岁。然而露哈忍住没要求他去找主人来。如果廓坦的习俗与大多数贝都因人的有任何相近之处，那么牧童是不会带着长枪的。那是战士的特权。
她反而在男孩走近时喘着气问：“这些优秀的骆驼是谁的？”
年轻人露出珍珠般的牙齿一笑：“它们曾经属于伯达耶雅斯的一个族长。”他边回答边像穿上亚伯一样挺直肩膀。
这回答解释了缺乏鞍具和缰绳的理由。年轻人没有明说这群骆驼现在属于他了。他在一场袭击中偷走了它们。如果这群牲畜如他所说曾属于一个族长，那么那片草场无疑曾是看守严密的。露哈很高兴自己没有要求这年轻人把主人带来而因此冒犯他。
年轻人站在离露哈一步处把水袋递给她。露哈见他有意识的保持一只手靠近扬毕亚的刀柄，说道：“这真是谨慎的举动。”男孩点点头，回答说：“我父亲说帮助陌生人是光荣的，但要记得陌生人绝不是朋友。”
“你父亲很正确。”露哈回答，把水袋举到嘴边。
虽然水又热又有种在袋中放了好几天的味道，对她而言却像刚刚打来的清凉的泉水般可口。然而她还是在喝了三口之后停下来，因为太快喝太多会让她比现在感觉更糟。另外，一个人在与陌生人分享水时永远不知道他要花费多少。她把水袋递还那年轻人。
男孩摇摇头。“喝吧。我还有一袋。”他用夸张的权威的语气说。
露哈又喝了两口。“你的水比加了蜜的奶还要甜美。”她说。虽然她说的是真心话，话语却充满疲惫。年轻的寡妇自己听着都觉得不诚恳。
年轻人笑着摇了摇头。“那水已经在袋中放了五天。你在这儿观察我的寇宛太久了。”
“也是我的寇宛。”露哈答道，“至少曾经是。”
男孩的笑容消失了。“你是什么意思？”
露哈指着绿洲上方盘旋的秃鹰们道：“你肯定看到了纳瑟尔的孩子们了吧？”
年轻的战士点点头。：“因此我躲在沙丘后面接近，但我要问的是你为何声称自己是廓坦人。如果你是部落的一员，我应该认识你。我们的人还没多到认不过来。”
“我是露哈，阿扎曼的妻子。”她回答。
年轻人的手回移向匕首。“阿扎曼没有妻子。”他怀疑地说。
露哈对他怀疑的语调只是耸肩带过，再次把水袋举到唇边。她依然感到虚弱和晕眩，但靠着手边充足的供水她很快就会好起来的。她又喝了几口，然后放下水袋说：“我三天前来廓坦的。”
“原谅我。”男孩忙说，然后又补充道：“我当时在进行艾尔阿萨拉德。”
啊，露哈想，无怪乎这战士年纪这么小。作为一项例行的仪式，艾尔阿萨拉德是一个男孩在初次杀人后独立进行的骆驼劫掠行动。
年轻人继续说道：“我没听说我兄弟娶妻了。”
“兄弟！”露哈失声叫道。
年轻人点点头：“同母兄弟。”
露哈本来就虚弱，更承受不住这打击，不禁呜咽起来，为自己的命运又哭又笑。一个男人有义务照顾死去的兄弟的妻子两年，之后他可以选择赶走她或者娶她。露哈的新任保护者同时也是大有希望成为她的丈夫的人竟然是个十三岁的男孩，这还真是可悲又讽刺呀。寡妇扔掉水袋，双手捂面跪倒在地。
年轻人迅速捡起水袋，然后搀着露哈的手臂扶她走向他的骆驼群。他让她坐在一头骆驼散发着麝香的乳房下，说：“我叫卡杜米。”
骆驼肥大的脚跺着地面，他把水洒在露哈面部唯一裸露在外的眉毛和脸颊上。水刚碰到她的皮肤就蒸发掉了，完全没有让她感到凉爽。
露哈从方才的失控中回过神来，用手堵住壶嘴：“节约水，我没事。”卡杜米把水袋盖上放在她身边，转向于此地还不可见的绿洲的方向，问道：“其他的女人呢？部落损失如何？”
年轻的寡妇拍拍身前的沙地，“坐下。”
卡杜米摇摇头。“我站着。”他说，似乎站着听这报告能让他更像个男人。“卡杜米，这不是骆驼劫掠。”露哈首先说道。
“告诉我发生了什么事。”他回答，仍旧不肯接受她的提议坐下来。
露哈耸耸肩，然后开始讲述。“那是天黑以后，阿扎曼守夜，他要我带些杏和奶去给他。”
“阿扎曼不会让妻子在蒲耳达期[新婚后一段时期，类似蜜月期]离开帐篷的。”卡杜米皱着眉插话道。
“他的确要求了。”露哈回击道，恼火于这年轻人注意到了她的误传。“你怀疑你嫂子的信誉吗？”
卡杜米被这简练的回答将了一军，将视线移开：“就算是他要求你去找他吧。然后呢？”她试着不去辩解，继续道：“我还没到他那里，一列人和舌头分叉的怪物组成的车队就从沙漠中出来了。”
“舌头分叉的怪物？”
“是的，”露哈答道，“有着蜥蜴的皮肤和蛇的眼睛。它们头上本来应该是鼻子和耳朵的地方只有裂隙。它们有几百只，甚至可能有几千只。紧接而至的是穿着黑色斗篷的赶车人。
露哈顿了顿，又闻到了那奇特的车队攻击时烧焦的骆驼毛和肉的味道。
母亲哀痛的悲鸣和孩子死时的惊叫声袭过沙丘。露哈从一座沙丘顶望去，只见千个黑影穿过绿洲，点燃所有立着的，砍倒所有会动的。
“他们想要什么？”她问，“我要怎么阻止他们？”
“喝点水。”卡杜米说，将水袋打开递给她。他的脸代替了前夜的阴暗的景象。“你看到幻象了。”
露哈推开水袋。“陌生人太多了，我谁都救不了。”
“我明白。”卡杜米边回答边盖上水袋。“逃跑的其他人呢？他们在哪里？”“其他人？”露哈吼道。她上面的骆驼叫了一声向前走去，乳房扫过露哈的头。她没理会这畜牲。“你没听到吗？没有其他人了！”
卡杜米脸色变得苍白，水袋从他手中滑落。男孩一副怀疑迷惘的表情，露哈立刻就为自己严厉的语调而懊悔起来。
她还没来得及安慰这男孩，就听他就咬牙切齿的嘶声问道：“是谁对我的部族做出这种事来？这些人和舌头分叉的怪物是谁？”
露哈摇摇头。“我不知道。”她低声答道。“他们的克非耶赫是什么颜色的？”卡杜米逼问道，“他们骑着北方部落的长毛驼吗？如果他们是廓坦的敌人之一，我就会根据你的形容知道他们的。”
露哈直视卡杜米的眼睛：“他们不是贝都因人。”她说，“我认为他们甚至不是蛮牛沙漠的人。”年轻人怀疑的冷笑了一声宣称道：“这不可能。”他用责难的眼神看了她一会儿，然后诘问道：“如果其他人都死了，你又是怎么逃过一劫的呢？”
露哈撑着从骆驼下面站起来，回击道：“你是什么意思？你在侮辱一个你本应尊敬的女人吗？”
男孩被她严厉的语调吓得摇着头倒退了两大步。此时骆驼也响应露哈的怒气不耐烦的喧鸣起来。他们无疑是闻道了绿洲的味道急着想去水塘解渴。
露哈记起独眼男人和他的两个向导，赶忙转身安抚骆驼。在这之前，她并不担心会被三个陌生人听到，因为她和卡杜米离绿洲相当远，沙丘会掩没他们的声音。骆驼的鸣叫则不然。一声像刚才这群家伙发出的鸣叫足以传到一英里外。
“我们得让骆驼保持安静。”她边说边急匆匆地抓住最近的一支的鼻子。“绿洲里有三个陌生人。”
卡杜米没过去帮她。“只有三个？”他蔑笑道，走向他棕色的骑乘驼。“我带了弓和足够的箭。他们要血债血偿。”
露哈跑到男孩身边抓住他的手臂。“不，”她说，“他们和叉舌怪不是一伙的。”她告诉他独眼陌生人昨夜如何紧随车队出现和她今天早晨观察那人和他的矮子同伙们在营地里的举动。
“无论他们手上沾的血是来自战斗或是亵渎都没差别。”卡杜米坚持说，“他们该死。”他挣开她。
露哈从他倔强的语调中意识到这男孩与其说是去寻仇倒不如说是找借口泄愤。不幸的是，露哈一想起独眼男敏锐的直觉就明白，放任卡杜米去攻击就意味着送他去赴死。年轻人伸手去取箭袋，露哈一个滑步夹在他和骆驼间。“他们有三个人，而你只有自己。”
卡杜米绕过她从鞍上抓过箭袋。
露哈怀疑她丈夫年轻时是否也这么顽愚，同时抓住男孩的双肩。“攻击太愚蠢了，就算是阿扎曼也不会做这种事。”
卡杜米不理她，试着挣脱。她不放手，他拔出扬毕亚。男孩的怒气让露哈吃了一惊，她发现他弯曲的刀刃抵在她的喉咙上。
卡杜米下唇气得发颤，嚷道：“阿扎曼不在这儿！”
“可你在，而你正威胁他的妻子，让他蒙羞。”露哈反驳道。“你必须在两年内保护你兄弟的妻子。如果你被杀，有谁来照顾我？”
男孩的眼中涌着绝望的眼泪。他自觉地考虑了一会儿，然后擦干眼泪收起扬毕亚。他转过身盯着他的驼群看了几分钟，最后说：“我会把你带到你父亲那儿，晚些时候再回来杀死这些亵渎者。反正根据你所说的，貌似叉舌怪们正朝马太尔塔非尔去，所以我们应该试着去警告他们。”
年轻人向西看去。“我有多余的骆驼，而且它们都很强壮。我们可以兼程，说不定能在叉舌怪之前到达马太尔塔非尔。”
寡妇摇摇头。“我向阿扎曼许了诺。我们必须在这里等到可以把他的尸体带回绿洲为止。”她说，“然后我们才可以去警告马太尔塔非尔。”
露哈不急于回到她父亲的部落，可是卡杜米在警告他们朝着他们去的危险这一点上是对的。另外，虽然她知道她不可能留在马太尔塔非尔，可是他们没有理由拒绝这个年轻的战士。而寡妇觉得说不定把她年轻的小叔子留在马太尔的话自己能更轻易的找到个新归宿。
卡杜米恭敬的点点头，表示对露哈的计划的赞同，然后警惕的看向南方的天空。“让我们祈祷陌生人们快些离开吧。”他说，“如果赶上了那场沙暴，我们就得等到它结束才能出发了。”
接下来是第二章原文
Two
At'ar the Merciless hung in a deep blue sky, bathing the desert in the fiery radiance of her insufferable passion. Though At'ar's orb had risen less than three hours ago, the heat already shimmered from the golden sands in skin-blistering waves. To Ruha, crouched atop a dune ninety yards from the oasis, it seemed nothing dared to stir beneath the yellow goddess's gaze. The wind lay heavy and list¬less upon the barren ground, and the green fronds of the palm trees dangled motionless and lethargic: Even N'asr's children, those great white-bearded vultures that ferried spirits to the camp of the dead, hovered over¬head without so much as flapping a wing or twitching a tail-feather.
Ruha envied the vultures their patience, for her own thirst was making her grow desperate. Three hours be¬neath the morning sun had made her tongue so swollen it occasionally gagged her, her throat so dry she could not swallow, and her mind so muddled she could not keep the events of the previous night separated from what was happening at the moment.
Ruha recalled that her last drink had come from Ajaman's waterskin, after she had left her hiding place last night and gone to him. She remembered the despair washing over her as she had taken her dead husband's head in her lap and, in her mind, she returned to where she had sat in the sand at El Ma'ra's base.
In Ajaman's chest was a charred hole as big as her head, but his face betrayed no fear or sorrow. He held his dark brow furrowed in astonished fury, more angry at being '' soiled by magic than at being killed. The widow touched her mouth to her dead husband's, then slipped his jambiya and its sheath off his belt and took the crushed amarat from beneath his body. These would be her only keepsakes.
Though Ruha had come to like Ajaman during the two days of their marriage, she could not say that she loved him. It was a surprise to her, then, that tears were stream¬ing down her cheeks. It was proper for a widow to grieve her dead husband, but for Ruha to claim that she wept on Ajaman's account seemed out of place and insincere. The tears, she realized, were for herself. With Ajaman gone, she was likely to spend the rest of her life as Qoha'dar had spent hers-a shunned woman.
In similar circumstances, any other woman might have returned to her own khowwan, assured that her tribe would have received her with open arms. For Ruha, that possibility did not exist. Even if she returned to the Mtair Dhafir, the old women would blame her for the Qahtan's disaster and, with a grim air of reluctance, the elder war¬riors would persuade her father to banish her.
With her magic, Ruha knew she could survive alone in the desert, but the thought of being forced into hermitage made her stomach queasy, and it horrified her. The young woman had not asked for her premonitions, and she had never done anything to deserve banishment. Still, she did not blame her father or the Mtair Dhafir for ostracizing her. To them, her presence seemed dangerous, and they were just doing what they thought necessary to survive. Given similar circumstances, any Bedine would have done the same.
"You do what you must to survive, and I will do the same;' Ruha said, speaking to the distant tribe of her birth. "I'll ride with any khowwan that will take me, though it be the blood enemy of the Mtair Dhafir."
As she spoke, Ruha found her throat so dry that the words came out in a series of croaking gasps. Realizing that she was desperately thirsty, the widow reached for Aja¬man's waterskin. The fall had burst the neck open, leaving only a few last swallows in the corners. Ruha placed her lips over the neck to prevent the loss of even a drop, then tilted her head back to drain the precious water into her parched throat.
Nothing.
Ruha tried to swallow again. Still nothing.
With a start, Ruha snapped back to the present, and she realized that she was a half-mile from her dead husband. He was still at El Ma'ra, buried in the cool, shallow grave she had dug for him earlier. Now, she was sitting atop a dune, exposed to Mar's full glory and so sun-sick that she was hallucinating.
The young widow angrily pulled Ajaman's crushed amarat horn from around her neck, then threw it down the dune's slip-face. It slid clear to the desert's rocky floor.
"Why did you fall on your waterskin, husband?" she croaked, looking toward El Ma'ra's tawny pinnacle. "An honorable man would not leave his wife without water!"
Of course, Ajaman did not answer, but Ruha did not doubt that he heard her.
"Ajaman, if you do not send me some water, there will be nobody to wash your body before the journey west;' Ruha threatened, still staring in the direction of her hus¬band's body. "Tonight, when the vultures come to take you to N' asr's tent, the odor of life will cling to you like blood on a newborn calf. Surely, the Pitiless One will give you to his djinns, and it won't be my fault:'
Bartering with the dead was dangerous, the widow real¬ized dimly. Even those who had been friends often repaid their debts with plague and pestilence, but Ruha thought she had done everything she could to find water on her own. She remembered checking the canteen of the straggler she had killed last night. It had been empty. She had even found the milk skin she had been carrying when the attack started, but it had been trampled into the sand by the caravan. Ruha was desperate.
At the oasis there was plenty of water, but she did not dare approach it. In the entire khowwan, not a Qahtani re¬mained alive. The men had fallen in contorted, inert poses at the camp perimeter. In the oasis itself, dog and camel corpses lay scattered among the tents and trees. The women and children were gathered beneath shredded and charred khreimas, their locations marked by lumps and dark stains in the cloth.
But it was not corpses that prevented Ruha from going to the oasis pool and drinking the water she needed so bad¬ly. The pale-skinned stranger who had appeared last night in the caravan's wake was searching the entire camp tent by tent. He had been since dawn. Methodically he furled back each khreima, then kneeled amongst the corpses. Af¬ter a few moments, he covered the bodies again and went to the next tent. Never, as far as Ruha could tell, did he take anything from the dead or their households.
His behavior was a stark contrast to that of his compan¬ions, two creatures who stood about four feet tall. Ruha could tell little about the pair, for they were swaddled head to foot in white burnooses. The short bipeds were robbing the "tan, warriors, pulling rings off dead fingers and pry¬ing jewels from scimitar scabbards.
Watching the strangers continue their desecrations, Ru¬ha wondered who they could be and what they were doing at El Ma'ra's oasis. Her muddled mind could not even guess at an answer, any more than she could imagine the origin of last night's murderous caravan. She had never seen anything like either group in the desert, and her igno¬rance of the lands beyond Anauroch was complete. Both the caravan and the three strangers remained an utter mystery to her.
For the next hour, the widow pondered her ignorance and waited for the strangers to leave. A gray haze ap¬peared on the southern horizon, and Ruha knew that a sandstorm was ravaging some distant part of the desert. She paid it no further attention, for it would not arrive soon enough for her to sneak to the oasis pond beneath its cover.
As At'ar grew brighter and hotter, Ruha's skin became pale and clammy. She felt sick to her stomach. Her head ached. Spots appeared in her vision, and she could not make them go away.
Ruha turned her gaze toward the vultures, barely able to distinguish the birds from the dots before her eyes. "Sure¬ly, N'asr will punish these defilers of the dead. Ask him to do it now, so that I may live and prepare my husband for the journey to your father's camp:'
If the vultures heard her plea, they gave no sign. The bulky birds continued hanging in the sky, steady as clouds. The widow waited. She did not exert herself by search¬ing for non-existent shade. In the summer, Mar rode proud in the sky, and it would have been futile to attempt escaping her heat. Only a tent or a palm tree's gaunt fronds could offer shelter from the sun, and the only sign Ruha saw of either was in the oasis. Everywhere else, on the gentle slopes and steep slip-faces of the dunes, and in the rocky valleys between them, Mar blazed down on the parched sands in all her fiery radiance. The yellow goddess could not be avoided.
Ruha could feel herself growing perilously weak, but she resisted the dry voice whispering to her to sneak back to the oasis. Whoever the strangers were, their desecrations made it clear that-they were no friend of the Bedine, and from what she had seen last night, the instincts of the one-¬eyed stranger were too sharp to challenge.
As she thought about the stranger, Ruha's mind wander¬ed and she once again found herself standing in last night's shadows, the dead straggler lying in the sand beside her. The stranger was crouched atop the dune, where he had appeared so suddenly in the wake of the caravan. As the screams of dying Qahtanis began to drift over the sands, he continued to watch the battle, his attention fixed impas¬sively on the oasis.
Ruha wondered if he was the man who killed Ajaman. Confident of the magic that kept her hidden and unheard, she gripped her jamblya and prepared to take vengeance.
As she picked up the handful of sand she needed to cre¬ate her magical lion, the one-eyed man whirled about and drew a straight-bladed dagger. He stared into the quiet darkness protecting the young woman, seeming to sense her presence in spite of the spells hiding her. The stranger shook his head once, then sheathed his dagger.
Was he warning Ruha not to attack, or did he doubt the instincts that had alerted him to her presence? Before Ruha could decide, the stranger slipped down the other side of the dune and disappeared. The widow's knees were ready to buckle and her stomach felt as though her heart had dropped into it. She did not follow.
With a start; Ruha realized that the ache in her stomach was more than fear, and that her confused mind had again lost track of reality. Heat cramps were causing the Pain she felt, and the reason it seemed like night was because her eyes were closed. She had lost track of reality again, drift¬ing into a dream of last night.
Ruha held her head with both hands, vainly trying to stop the fierce pounding inside. The young widow realized she had to risk going to the pond, even without any spells to conceal her. With his acute instincts, the stranger would probably see her as she drank, but to wait was to die.
Ruha slid a few feet down from the dune crest, then turn¬ed toward the rocky labyrinth behind her.
To her surprise, a string of ten white camels stood two hundred feet away. Believing that her mind was playing tricks on her, she dosed her eyes and whispered, "Hus¬band, by the last drop of water in my mouth, if this is a mirage, I will be slave to N'asr himself before I wash your filthy corpse:'
When she opened her eyes again, the beasts were still there. Though clearly mature riding camels, they had no halters or saddles. Instead, their driver had looped long ropes around their lanky necks and run lines from one beast to the next. The sight puzzled Ruha, for any man who owned ten matched camels could certainly saddle them properly.
Only the lead camel, an indistinctive brown gelding, car¬ried a proper saddle or hatter. Upon this beast sat a lone tribesman, his bow strung and his lance resting across his thighs. He wore a tawny aba similar to Ajaman's, and a white keffiyeh covered his hair. Though Ruha could not see his face at this distance, his head seemed turned toward her. Ruha guessed by his dress that the driver belonged to the Qahtan tribe, perhaps even her dead husband's clan.
Continuing her slide down the dune, she croaked, "Wor¬thy Ajaman, I should have known better than to doubt you, but I am a frail woman and thirst affects my judgment. Please forgive my nagging and don't send any blights to punish me:'
When her feet touched the rocky desert floor, she checked to see that her veil was still in place, then stag¬gered toward the man.
Upon seeing her condition, the rider unfastened his wa¬terskin and slid off his saddle. He thrust his lance into the closest dune, then wrapped his lead camel's reins around the shaft. Without actually running, for a wise man never ran in the heat of the day, he rushed toward Ruha.
The widow's first impression was that he was a herdboy, for his face lacked even the hint of whiskers: His features were proud and strong, like Ajaman's, but his skin looked as soft as a pup's fur, and he did not stand even as tall as she did: He could have been no more than thirteen or four¬teen. Still, Ruha stopped short of asking him to fetch his master. If the Qahtani customs bore any similarity to those of most Bedine, a herdboy would not carry a lance. That privilege belonged only to a warrior.
Instead, as the boy approached, she managed to gasp a question. "Whose fine camels are those?"
The youth showed a smile of pearly teeth. "They once belonged to a sheikh of the Bordjias," he answered, straightening his shoulders as if donning an aba.
The answer explained the lack of saddles and halters. What the youth had left unspoken was that now the camels belonged to him. He had stolen them on a raid. If, as he claimed, the animals had belonged to a sheikh, the pasture had undoubtedly been a well-guarded one. Ruha was glad she had not insulted the young man by asking after his mas¬ter.
The youth stopped a pace away from Ruha and passed the waterskin to her. Observing that he self-consciously kept one hand close to the hilt of his jambiya, Ruha said, "A The boy nodded, then answered, "My father says it is honorable to help a stranger, but to remember that no friend is ever a stranger."
"Your father is right;" Ruha answered, lifting the skin to her mouth.
Though the water was hot and tasted of several days in the skin, to her it seemed as if it had just come from a cool spring. Still, she stopped herself after three swallows, for drinking too much too quickly would make her feel worse than she did now. Besides, when a stranger shared his wa¬ter, one never knew how much he had to spare. She of¬fered the skin back to the youth.
The boy shook his head. "Drink. I have another." He spoke with an exaggerated tone of authority.
Ruha allowed herself two more swallows. "Your water is sweeter than honeyed milk;" she said. Though she meant what she said, the words were weighted with exhaustion. They sounded insincere even to the young widow.
The youth smiled and shook his head. "That water's been in the skin for five days. You've been out here watch¬ing my khowwan too long:'
"It's my khowwan, too;' Ruha answered. "Or at least it was:'
The boy's smile faded. "What do you mean?"
Ruha pointed at the vultures hanging over the oasis. "Surely you've seen N'asr's children?"
The young warrior nodded. "That's why I hid my ap¬proach behind the dunes, but I meant to ask why you claim to be Qahtani. If you were a member of the tribe, I would know you. There aren't that many of us:'
"I'm Ruha, Ajaman's wife," she answered.
The youth's hand drifted back toward his dagger. "Aja¬man has no wife," he said suspiciously.
Shrugging aside his skeptical tone, Ruha lifted the waterskin to her lips again. She still felt weak and dizzy, but with an ample supply of water at hand, she would soon be better. After a few swallows, she lowered the skin and said, "I came to the Qahtan three days ago:'
"Forgive me;' the boy said, flustered. As an after¬thought, the boy offered, "I was on el a'sarad."
Ah, Ruha thought, that explains the warrior's age. The el a'sarad was a solitary camel raid undertaken as a rite of passage-after a boy killed his first man.
The youth continued, "I had not heard that my brother had taken a wife:'
"Brother!" Ruha gasped.
The youth nodded. "Sons of the same mother."
In her weakened state, the shock was too much for Ru¬ha. She began to wail.. uncontrollably, half sobbing and half laughing at her fate. A man was obligated to care for a dead brother's wife for two years, after which time he had the choice of sending her away or marrying her himself. Ruha found it pathetically ironic that her new protector and po¬tential husband was a thirteen-year-old boy. Dropping the skin, the widow collapsed to her knees and buried her face in her palms.
The youth quickly picked up the waterskin, then took Ruha's arm and helped her to his camels. He sat her in the shade beneath one of the beast's musky udders, then said, "I am called Kadumi:'
As the camel stamped its fleshy feet on the ground, he poured water on the only exposed parts of Ruha's face, her cheeks and her brow. The water evaporated as soon as it touched her skin, without cooling her at all.
Regaining control of her spent emotions, Ruha put her hand over the spout. "Save the water. I'll be fine:' Kadumi closed the skin and placed it beside her. Turning in the direction of the unseen oasis, he asked, "Where are the other women? How badly is the tribe hurt?"
The young widow touched the ground in front of her. "Sit."
Kadumi shook his head. "I'll stand;' he declared, as if hearing the report on his feet made him more of a man. "Kadumi, this was no camel raid;" Ruha began.
"Tell me what happened," he replied, still refusing the seat she offered.
Ruha shrugged, then began. "It was after dark. Ajaman had the night watch, and he wanted me to bring him some apricots and milk:'
"Ajaman wouldn't ask his wife to leave their tent during the purdah:' Kadumi interrupted, frowning.
"He did ask it," Ruha snapped, irritated that the youth had noticed her misrepresentation. "Do you question the honor of your brother's wife?"
Startled at the terse reply, Kadumi turned his gaze aside. "Let's say he asked you to come to him. Then what?" Trying not to sound defensive, she continued, "Before I reached him, a caravan of men and fork-tongued monsters came out of the sands:'
"Fork-tongued monsters?"
"Yes; Ruha replied. "With a lizard's skin and a snake's eyes. Where there should have been nose and ears, the beasts had only gashes. There were hundreds, maybe thousands. Behind them came caravan drivers in black bur¬nooses:'
Ruha paused, smelling once again the scent of singed camel-hair and scorched flesh as the strange caravan at¬tacked. Over the dunes rolled the mournful howls of an¬guished mothers, the terrified screams of dying children. Peering over a dune crest, Ruha saw a thousand silhou¬ettes marching through the oasis, setting fire to anything that stood, cutting down anything that walked.
"What do they want?" she asked. "How can I stop them?"
"Drink;' Kadumi said, offering her the open waterskin as his face replaced the dark images from the previous night: "You're seeing mirages:'
Ruha pushed the skin aside. "There were too many strangers;" she replied. "I couldn't save anyone:'
"I understand;' Kadumi answered, sealing the skin. "What of the others who escaped? Where are they?" "Others?" Ruha yelled. The camel beneath which she sat brayed and stepped forward, brushing Ruha's head with its udders. She ignored the beast. "Haven't you been listening? There are no others!"
Kadumi's face went pale and the waterskiir slipped from his hand. An expression of disbelief and bewilderment overcame the boy, and Ruha immediately regretted her sharp tone.
Before she could comfort the boy, he set his smooth¬skinned jaw. "Who did this to my tribe?" he hissed. "Who were these men and fork-tongued monsters?"
Ruha shook her head. "I don't know;' she whispered. "What color were their keffiyehs?" Kadumi pressed. "Did they ride the long-wooled camels of a northern tribe? If they are a Qahtani enemy, I will know them from your description:'
Ruha looked straight into Kadumi's eyes. "They weren't Bedine;' she said. "I don't even think they were from Anauroch:'
The youth sneered doubtfully and declared, "That can¬not be:' He studied her for a moment with accusatory eyes, then demanded, "If everybody else is dead, how did you survive?"
Ruha pushed herself from beneath the camel. "What do you suggest?" she snapped, standing. "Do you insult the woman whom you are duty-bound to honor?"
Cowed by her sharp tone, the boy retreated two full steps, shaking his head. At the same time, the camels echoed Ruha's indignation and roared with impatience. They could no doubt smell the oasis and were anxious to quench their thirst in its pool.
Remembering the one-eyed man and his two guides, Ru¬ha quickly turned to calm the camels. Until now, she had not worried about being overheard by the three strangers, for she and Kadumi were far enough away from the oasis that their voices would be muffled by sand dunes. A cam¬el's bellow was a different matter. A roar like the ones the creatures had just voiced could be heard miles away.
"We've got to keep the camels quiet," she said, urgently grabbing the nose of the nearest one. "There are three strangers in the oasis:'
Kadumi did not move to help her. "Just three?" he scoff¬ed, stepping toward his brown riding camel. "I have my bow and plenty of arrows. They shall pay the blood price:'
Ruha moved to the boy's side and caught his arm. "No;" she said. "They weren't with the fork-tongues:" She told him about how the one-eyed stranger had appeared in the caravan's wake last night, then of spending the morning watching the man and his short companions in camp.
"It does not matter whether their hands bear the blood of battle or the blood of desecration;' Kadumi insisted. "They deserve to die:' He pulled his arm free of her grasp.
From his stubborn tone, Ruha realized that the boy was looking not so much for vengeance as an excuse to vent his anger. Unfortunately, remembering the sharp instincts of the one-eyed man, Ruha knew that allowing Kadumi to at¬tack would mean his death. As the youth reached for his arrow quiver, the widow slipped between him and his cam¬el. "They are three and you are one:'
Kadumi side-stepped her and snatched his quiver off the saddle.
Wondering if her husband had been as stubborn and fool¬ish in his youth, Ruha grasped the boy by both shoulders. "It is foolish to attack;" she said. "Even Ajaman would not have tried such a thing:'
Kadumi ignored her and tried to pall free. When she did not release him, he drew his jambiya. The boy's anger took Ruha by surprise, and she found the curve of his knife blade pressed against her throat.
His lower lip quivering in anger, Kadumi yelled, "Ajaman is not here!"
"But you are, and you are dishonoring your brother by threatening his wife;' Ruha countered. "You must protect your brother's widow for two years. If you get killed, who will take care of me?"
Tears of despair welled in the boy's eyes. After a mo¬ment of self-conscious consideration, he rubbed the tears away and sheathed his jambiya. He turned from her and stared at his camels for several minutes. Finally he said, "I will take you to your father and return to kill the defilers later. Anyway, from what you have said, it appears that the fork-tongues are moving toward the Mtair Dhafir's oasis, so we should try to warn them:' The youth looked west¬ward. "I have extra camels, and they are all strong. We can ride hard, and perhaps we will reach the Mtair Dhafir ahead of the fork-tongues:'
The widow shook her head. "I've made certain promises to Ajaman. We must wait here until we can take his body to the oasis," she said. "Then we can warn the Mtair Dhafir."
Ruha was not anxious to return to her father's tribe, but Kadumi was right to alert them to the danger traveling in their direction. Besides, even though she knew it would be impossible for her to stay with the Mtair Dhafir, there was no reason for them to turn out the young warrior, and the widow suspected that it would be easier to find a new tribe for herself if she left her young brother-in-law with the Mtair.
Accepting Ruha's plan with a respectful nod, Kadumi cast a wary eye toward the southern sky. "Let us hope the strangers leave soon;' he said. "If that storm catches us in its path, we will have to wait it out:"
首先要道歉，这次拖了这么久，趁五一假期我会多翻译一些的
然后是关于原文的问题，我用的这一版不是很好，错误很多，所以翻译中有些地方是我凭感觉写的。文中阿拉伯风浓厚，有很多词翻译过来就失去了原来的味道。如果各位有什么意见或者建议请一定告诉我。
最后是第三章预告——
年轻但不算英俊的男主角与矮子双人组的沙漠历险，真是出师不利呀！
众多著名人物的客串，竖琴手同盟登上舞台。
贝都因部落悲剧的原因渐渐显露，黑袍散塔林工会的目的是？
敬请期待——
