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【书籍搬运】Mystery of Talara, v 2 塔拉拉之谜,卷2

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原文地址:http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Skyrim:Mystery_of_Talara,_v_2

中文翻译:

塔拉拉之谜,卷2

——梅拉·利吉思

黑暗缠绕住她的肉体与心灵,阻断了她的知觉。而后一阵疼痛自她腿上涌起,与之相伴的则是刺骨寒冷冲刷过全身的感触。她睁开眼,只见自己正沉入水中。

她的左腿一动也不能动,但凭靠右腿和双臂,她还是迎着双月,奋力向上游去。路途漫漫,漩涡一直在扯她的后腿。终于她冲出了水面,刺入夜晚的冷风之中。卡姆洛恩王国首都的岩岬依旧近在咫尺,但水流已把她冲到距卡维斯提尔巨石的失足坠落处很远了。

才不是失足坠落,她自作修正。她是被推下去的。

她顺着水流漂浮而下。陡峭绝壁逐渐降低,最终已经接近水面。一座大宅的剪影在岸上若隐若现,当她漂近还能看见炊烟袅袅与窗内火光闪闪。她的腿痛得厉害,但海水冰冷刺骨更甚。激使她再度开始游泳的全部动力就是温暖壁炉中的炉火。

上岸之后,她想要站起身,却发现无能为力。她只得开始爬过沙滩岩砾,脸上泪水混着海水。原本为鲜花庆典穿在身上的简洁白单此刻已是破烂不堪,却宛如千斤重担压在她的肩头。彻底出离精疲力竭,她倒向前方,开始啜泣。

“救命!”她呼喊道,“能听见我吗?请帮帮我!”

一会儿以后,宅子的房门打开,一个女人走了出来。那正是兰卡,她在鲜花庆典上遇见的老妇人,在她还没有回忆起自己的身份之时,一张嘴就喊出来“是她!”不过此时此刻,老妇人向她走来,反倒没有认出她分毫。

“塞希特在上,你受伤了?”兰卡低语着,扶她起来,为她作拐。“我见过这身衣服。你是今晚鲜花庆典的舞者之一吧?我和国王的女儿吉莉娅·雷兹小姐去过那里。”

“我知道。她为我们互相介绍了。”她悲叹道,“我自报家门是匕落城的吉娜?”

“没错。我就知道你看起来多少有些眼熟。”老妇人笑了笑,一步一步把她领过海滩,走进前门。“我的记性越来越差了。让我给你找个暖和的地方,然后看看你的腿。”

吉娜在炉火边坐下后,兰卡取下了她身上湿透了的烂布,给她找了一条毯子盖上。冰水带来的麻木逐渐消退,但她腿上的疼痛也愈发难以忍受。她之前一直没敢去看看自己的腿,可当她瞟过去,那腿鱼皮一样死白,浮肿得厉害,上面还有一道很深的伤口,让她一阵恶心。粘厚的动脉血还在涌出,溅到地板上汇成溪流。

“我的天呐。”回到炉火前的老妇人说,“一定疼得厉害。你挺走运的,以前的那些治疗法术我还记得一点点。”

兰卡在地板上坐好,双手各压住伤口的一侧。吉娜先是感到一抹灼痛,随后却是些轻柔的刺痛。她看过去,只见兰卡正慢慢聚拢自己布满皱褶的双手。她的双手越靠越近,伤口却也开始在她眼前修复起来,肌肉重新粘合,淤伤也渐渐消退了。

“凯娜瑞斯女神啊!”吉娜大气不敢喘,“你救了我的命!”

“可不止如此。你的腿这么漂亮,上面可不能留下丑陋的伤疤。”兰卡笑笑,“吉莉娅小姐还小的时候这法术我总得常备。你知道的,我是她的乳母。”

“确实如此。”吉娜微笑出来,“但这是很久以前的事情了,你如今却还记得这咒语。”

“哦,只要你在学东西,就算是治疗系的魔法,也总要花费精力去钻研和试错。不过一旦你变得像我一样老,那就没必要再去记住事情了。你刚才也知道了。不管怎么说,这法术我以前使用了不下千次。吉莉娅小小姐和塔拉拉小公主总是弄得全身都是伤。不用问,她们总是喜欢在王宫上爬墙。”

吉娜叹了口气。“你那时候一定很爱吉莉娅小姐。”

“我现在也是。”兰卡满面笑容,“不过现在她是大人了,一切就都不一样了。你知道,之前你刚从海里上来,全身都湿透了,我还没注意到,但你长得同我的小姐很相像。在庆典见面的时候我有跟你提到这点吗?”

“你提到了。”吉娜回答说,“不过我更觉得你以为我长得像塔拉拉公主。”

“哦,如果你真是公主归来那就再好不过了。”老妇人倒吸一口气,“你知道,原先的王室被杀的时候,所有人都说公主也遇害了,但我们谁也没有看见她的尸体,可我觉得真正的受害者却是吉莉娅小姐。她那颗小小的心碎了,而那段日子里,就好像她的思维也同样坏掉了。”

“这是什么意思?”吉娜问,“出了什么事?”

“我不知道该不该把这件事告诉一个陌生人,但在卡姆洛恩这事家喻户晓,而且我确实觉得我认识你。”兰卡做了下思想斗争,然后开口说,“你看,吉莉娅亲眼目睹了刺杀。我在事后找到了她,她正躲在那间血光四溢的可怕觐见室里,就像一个坏了的娃娃。她不说话,也不吃饭。我用我知道的全部法术治疗她,但却还是无能为力。那可比擦伤的膝盖严重多了。她父亲那时还是奥洛尼公爵,就把她送去乡下一座疗养院接受治疗了。”

“真是可怜的小姑娘!”吉娜惊呼。

“她花了好多年才恢复正常。”兰卡颔首道,“不过实话实说,她也没有完全康复。你想为什么她的父亲成为了国王,却没把她立为王位继承人?他觉得她还是有点不正常,而且吧,虽然我不想承认,他这么想也没有错。她什么都不记得了,彻底忘光了。”

“你觉得,”吉娜小心翼翼斟酌自己的用词,“如果她知道自己的表亲塔拉拉公主还活着而且过得不错,她就总能比现在更为正常?”

兰卡想了一会儿。“我想是这样没错,但也有可能不是。有时候最好还是别抱希望。”

吉娜站起身来,她的腿和看上去一样强壮了。她的衣服已经干了,兰卡又塞给了她一件披风,一直说晚风很冷要她注意保暖。吉娜在门边亲了亲老妇人的脸颊,感谢了她,并非只是为了她的治疗魔法和披风,还包括她所做的全部善举。

屋旁的道路是南北向的,往左走就可以重回卡姆洛恩,这条路是密道,只有她知道如何通行。往南走的路通向匕落城,她超过二十年的家,她要直接回家重返街边风尘也很容易。她花了几秒仔细考虑应该怎样选择,然后终于下了决定。

她并没有走出多远,就有一辆三匹马拉的带着帝国纹章的黑马车从她身旁驶过,随行的还有八名骑士。马车在前面的林间小道本应转向,却突然停了下来。她认出了其中一名士兵就是戈诺布斯,斯特雷尔爵士的男仆。马车车门打开,走出来的正是斯特雷尔爵士本人,帝国大使,雇用她和其他所有女人为王室取乐的那个男人。

“你!”他皱了皱眉,“你是那群娼妓中的一个,没错吧?你就是在鲜花庆典上失踪了的那个?吉娜,我没弄错吧?”

“全都没错。”她酸酸地笑了笑,“除了我的名字以外。我发现我的本名不是吉娜。”

“我才不管你叫什么。”斯特雷尔爵士说,“你怎么走在南路上?我花钱雇你,是让你呆在王国里,让大家都高兴高兴。”

“如果我回了卡姆洛恩,那就会有许多人彻底高兴不起来了。”

“给我个解释。”斯特雷尔爵士命令道。

于是她就说了,而他侧耳倾听。

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The Mystery of Princess Talara, Part II
by Mera Llykith
Part two of the story of Princess Talara


She felt nothing, darkness enveloping her body and mind. Pain surged through her leg and with that sensation, a great feeling of cold washed over her. She opened her eyes and saw that she was drowning.
Her left leg would not move at all, but using her right one and her arms, she pulled herself up toward the moons above. It was long way through the swirling currents that wrenched back at her. At last she broke the surface and sucked in the cold night air. She was still close to the rocky shoreline of the capitol city of the kingdom of Camlorn, but the water had carried her quite a ways from the point where she fell at Cavilstyr Rock.
Not fell, she thought, correcting herself. She had been pushed.
Further down current, she allowed herself to drift. There the steep cliff walls sloped lower until they were close to the water's edge. The silhouette of a large house on the shore loomed ahead, and as she neared it, she could see smoke rising from the chimney and the flicker of firelight within. The pain in her leg was great, but greater still was the chill of the water. The thought of a warm hearth fire was all the motivation she needed to begin swimming again.
At the shore's edge, she tried to stand but found she couldn't. Her tears mixed with the sea water as she began to crawl across the sand and rock. The simple white sheet which had been her costume at the Flower Festival was tattered and felt like a weight of lead across her back. Beyond the point of exhaustion, she fell forward and began to sob.
"Please!" she cried. "If you can hear me, please help!"
A moment later, the door to the house opened and a woman stepped out. It was Ramke, the old lady she had met at the Flower Festival. The one who had started and cried "It's her!" even before she herself knew who she was. By contrast, when the old woman came to her, this time there was no glimmer of recognition in her eyes.
"By Sethiete, are you hurt?" Ramke whispered, and helped her up, acting as her crutch. "I've seen that gown before. Were you one of the dancers at the Flower Festival tonight? I was there with Lady Jyllia Raze, the daughter of the King."
"I know, she introduced us," she groaned. "I called myself Gyna of Daggerfall?"
"Of course, I knew you looked familiar somehow," the old woman chuckled, and led her hop by hop across the beach and into the front door. "My memory isn't as good as it used to be. Lets [sic] get you warm and have a look at that leg."
Ramke took Gyna's soaking rags and covered her with a blanket as she sat at the fire. As the numbness of the chill water began to leave her, it cruelly abandoned her to the intense agony of her leg. Until then, she had not dared to look at it. When she did, she felt vomit rise at the sight of the deep gash, fish-white dead flesh, plump and swollen. Thick arterial blood bubbled up, splashing on the floor in streams.
"Oh dear," said the old woman, returning to the fire. "That must rather sting. You're lucky that I still remember a little of the old healing spells."
Ramke seated herself on the floor and pressed her hands on either side of the wound. Gyna felt a flare of pain, and then a cool soft pinching and prickle. When she looked down, Ramke was slowly sliding her wrinkled hands towards one another. At their approach, the lesion began to mend before her eyes, flesh binding and bruises fading.
"Sweet Kynareth," Gyna gasped. "You've saved my life."
"Not only that, you won't have an ugly scar on your pretty leg," Ramke chuckled. "I had to use that spell so many times when Lady Jyllia was little. You know, I was her nursemaid."
"I know," Gyna smiled. "But that was a long time ago, and you still remember the spell."
"Oh, when you're learning anything, even the School of Restoration, there's always a lot of study and mistakes, but once you're as old as I am, there's no longer any need to remember things. You just know. After all, I've probably cast it a thousand times before. Little Lady Jyllia and the little Princess Talara was always getting cut and bruised. Small wonder, the way they was always climbing all over the palace."
Gyna sighed. "You must have loved Lady Jyllia very much."
"I still do," Ramke beamed. "But now she's all grown and things are different. You know, I didn't notice it before because you were all wet from the sea, but you look very much like my lady. Did I mention that before when we met at the Festival?"
"You did," said Gyna. "Or rather I think you thought I looked like Princess Talara."
"Oh, it would be so wonderful if you were the Princess returned," the old woman gasped. "You know, when the former royal family was killed, and everyone said the Princess was killed though we never found the body, I think the real victim was Lady Jyllia. Her little heart just broke, and for a while, it looked like her mind did too."
"What do you mean?" asked Gyna. "What happened?"
"I don't know if I should tell a stranger this, but it's fairly well-known in Camlorn, and I really feel like I know you," Ramke struggled with her conscience and then released. "Jyllia saw the assassination, you see. I found her afterwards, hiding in that terrible blood-stained throne room, and she was like a little broken doll. She wouldn't speak, she wouldn't eat. I tried all my healing spells, but it was quite beyond my power. So much more than a scraped knee. Her father who was then Duke of Oloine sent her to a sanitarium in the country to get well."
"That poor little girl," cried Gyna.
"It took her years to be herself again," said Ramke, nodding. "And, in truth, she never really returned altogether. You wonder why her father when he was made king didn't make her his heir? He thought that she was still not exactly right, and in a way, as much as I would deny it, he's correct to think so. She remembered nothing, nothing at all."
"Do you think," Gyna considered her words carefully. "That she would be better if she knew that her cousin the Princess Talara was alive and well?"
Ramke considered it. "I think so. But maybe not. Sometimes it's best not to hope."
Gyna stood up, finding her leg to be as strong as it looked to be. Her gown had dried, and Ramke gave her a cloak, insisting she protect herself against the cold night air. At the door, Gyna kissed the old woman's cheek and thanked her. Not only for the healing spell and for the cloak, but for everything else of kindness she had ever done.
The road close to the house went north and south. To the left was the way back to Camlorn, where secrets lay to which she alone held the key. To the south was Daggerfall, her home for more than twenty years. She could return there, back to her profession on the streets, very easily. For a few seconds, she considered her options, and then made her choice.
She had not been walking for very long, when a black carriage drawn by three horses bearing the Imperial Seal, together with eight mounted horses, passed her. Before it rounded the wooded pass ahead, it stopped suddenly. She recognized one of the soldiers as Gnorbooth, Lord Strale's manservant. The door opened and Lord Strale himself, the Emperor's ambassador, the man who had hired her and all the other women to entertain at court, stepped out.
"You!' he frowned. "You're one of the prostitutes, aren't you? You're the one who disappeared during the Flower Festival? Gyna, am I right?"
"All that is true," she smiled sourly. "Except my name I've discovered is not Gyna."
"I don't care what it is," said Lord Strale. "What are you doing on the south road? I paid for you to stay and make the kingdom merry."
"If I went back to Camlorn, there are a great many who wouldn't be merry at all."
"Explain yourself," said Lord Strale.
So she did. And he listened.

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