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双语·凯斯宾王子 第十章 阿斯兰归来

所属教程:译林版·凯斯宾王子

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2022年04月29日

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CHAPTER 10 THE RETURN OF THE LION

TO keep along the edge of the gorge was not so easy as it had looked. Before they had gone many yards they were confronted with young fir woods growing on the very edge, and after they had tried to go through these, stooping and pushing for about ten minutes, they realised that, in there, it would take them an hour to do half a mile. So they came back and out again and decided to go round the fir wood. This took them much farther to their right than they wanted to go, far out of sight of the cliffs and out of sound of the river, till they began to be afraid they had lost it altogether. Nobody knew the time, but it was getting to the hottest part of the day.

When they were able at last to go back to the edge of the gorge (nearly a mile below the point from which they had started) they found the cliffs on their side of it a good deal lower and more broken. Soon they found a way down into the gorge and continued the journey at the river's edge. But first they had a rest and a long drink. No one was talking any more about breakfast, or even dinner, with Caspian.

They may have been wise to stick to the Rush instead of going along the top. It kept them sure of their direction: and ever since the fir wood they had all been afraid of being forced too far out of their course and losing themselves in the wood. It was an old and pathless forest, and you could not keep anything like a straight course in it. Patches of hopeless brambles, fallen trees, boggy places and dense undergrowth would be always getting in your way. But the gorge of the Rush was not at all a nice place for travelling either. I mean, it was not a nice place for people in a hurry. For an afternoon's ramble ending in a picnic tea it would have been delightful. It had everything you could want on an occasion of that sort—rumbling waterfalls, silver cascades, deep, amber-coloured pools, mossy rocks, and deep moss on the banks in which you could sink over your ankles, every kind of fern, jewel-like dragon flies, sometimes a hawk overhead and once (Peter and Trumpkin both thought) an eagle. But of course what the children and the Dwarf wanted to see as soon as possible was the Great River below them, and Beruna, and the way to Aslan's How.

As they went on, the Rush began to fall more and more steeply. Their journey became more and more of a climb and less and less of a walk—in places even a dangerous climb over slippery rock with a nasty drop into dark chasms, and the river roaring angrily at the bottom.

You may be sure they watched the cliffs on their left eagerly for any sign of a break or any place where they could climb them; but those cliffs remained cruel. It was maddening, because everyone knew that if once they were out of the gorge on that side, they would have only a smooth slope and a fairly short walk to Caspian's headquarters.

The boys and the Dwarf were now in favor of lighting a fire and cooking their bear-meat. Susan didn't want this; she only wanted, as she said, “to get on and finish it and get out of these beastly woods”. Lucy was far too tired and miserable to have any opinion about anything. But as there was no dry wood to be had, it mattered very little what anyone thought. The boys began to wonder if raw meat was really as nasty as they had always been told. Trumpkin assured them it was.

Of course, if the children had attempted a journey like this a few days ago in England, they would have been worn out. I think I have explained before how Narnia was altering them. Even Lucy was by now, so to speak, only one-third of a little girl going to boarding school for the first time, and two-thirds of Queen Lucy of Narnia.

“At last!” said Susan.

“Oh, hurray!” said Peter.

The river gorge had just made a bend and the whole view spread out beneath them. They could see open country stretching before them to the horizon and, between it and them, the broad silver ribbon of the Great River. They could see the specially broad and shallow place which had once been the Fords of Beruna but was now spanned by a long, many-arched bridge. There was a little town at the far end of it.

“By Jove,” said Edmund. “We fought the Battle of Beruna just where that town is!”

This cheered the boys more than anything. You can't help feeling stronger when you look at a place where you won a glorious victory not to mention a kingdom, hundreds of years ago. Peter and Edmund were soon so busy talking about the battle that they forgot their sore feet and the heavy drag of their mail shirts on their shoulders. The Dwarf was interested too.

They were all getting on at a quicker pace now. The going became easier. Though there were still sheer cliffs on their left, the ground was becoming lower on their right. Soon it was no longer a gorge at all, only a valley. There were no more waterfalls and presently they were in fairly thick woods again.

Then—all at once—whizz, and a sound rather like the stroke of a woodpecker. The children were still wondering where (ages ago) they had heard a sound just like that and why they disliked it so, when Trumpkin shouted, “Down,” at the same moment forcing Lucy (who happened to be next to him) flat down into the bracken. Peter, who had been looking up to see if he could spot a squirrel, had seen what it was—a long cruel arrow had sunk into a tree trunk just above his head. As he pulled Susan down and dropped himself, another came rasping over his shoulder and struck the ground at his side.

“Quick! Quick! Get back! Crawl!” panted Trumpkin.

They turned and wriggled along uphill, under the bracken amid clouds of horribly buzzing flies. Arrows whizzed round them. One struck Susan's helmet with a sharp ping and glanced off. They crawled quicker. Sweat poured off them. Then they ran, stooping nearly double. The boys held their swords in their hands for fear they would trip them up.

It was heart-breaking work—all uphill again, back over the ground they had already travelled. When they felt that they really couldn't run any more, even to save their lives, they all dropped down in the damp moss beside a waterfall and behind a big boulder, panting. They were surprised to see how high they had already got.

They listened intently and heard no sound of pursuit.

“So that's all right,” said Trumpkin, drawing a deep breath. “They're not searching the wood. Only sentries, I expect. But it means that Miraz has an outpost down there. Bottles and battledores! though, it was a near thing.”

“I ought to have my head smacked for bringing us this way at all,” said Peter.

“On the contrary, your Majesty,” said the Dwarf. “For one thing it wasn't you, it was your royal brother, King Edmund, who first suggested going by Glasswater.”

“I'm afraid the D.L.F.'s right,” said Edmund, who had quite honestly forgotten this ever since things began going wrong.

“And for another,” continued Trumpkin, “if we'd gone my way, we'd have walked straight into that new outpost, most likely; or at least had just the same trouble avoiding it. I think this Glasswater route has turned out for the best.”

“A blessing in disguise,” said Susan.

“Some disguise!” said Edmund.

“I suppose we'll have to go right up the gorge again now,” said Lucy.

“Lu, you're a hero,” said Peter. “That's the nearest you've got today to saying I told you so. Let's get on.”

“And as soon as we're well up into the forest,” said Trumpkin, “whatever anyone says, I'm going to light a fire and cook supper. But we must get well away from here.”

There is no need to describe how they toiled back up the gorge. It was pretty hard work, but oddly enough everyone felt more cheerful. They were getting their second wind; and the word supper had had a wonderful effect.

They reached the fir wood which had caused them so much trouble while it was still daylight, and bivouacked in a hollow just above it. It was tedious gathering the fire wood; but it was grand when the fire blazed up and they began producing the damp and smeary parcels of bear-meat which would have been so very unattractive to anyone who had spent the day indoors. The Dwarf had splendid ideas about cookery. Each apple (they still had a few of these) was wrapped up in bear-meat—as if it was to be apple dumpling with meat instead of pastry, only much thicker— and spiked on a sharp stick and then roasted. And the juice of the apple worked all through the meat, like apple sauce with roast pork. Bear that has lived too much on other animals is not very nice, but bear that has had plenty of honey and fruit is excellent, and this turned out to be that sort of bear. It was a truly glorious meal. And, of course, no washing up—only lying back and watching the smoke from Trumpkin's pipe and stretching one's tired legs and chatting. Everyone felt quite hopeful now about finding King Caspian tomorrow and defeating Miraz in a few days. It may not have been sensible of them to feel like this, but they did.

They dropped off to sleep one by one, but all pretty quickly.

Lucy woke out of the deepest sleep you can imagine, with the feeling that the voice she liked best in the world had been calling her name. She thought at first it was her father's voice, but that did not seem quite right. Then she thought it was Peter's voice, but that did not seem to fit either. She did not want to get up; not because she was still tired—on the contrary she was wonderfully rested and all the aches had gone from her bones—but because she felt so extremely happy and comfortable. She was looking straight up at the Narnian moon, which is larger than ours, and at the starry sky, for the place where they had bivouacked was comparatively open.

“Lucy,” came the call again, neither her father's voice nor Peter's. She sat up, trembling with excitement but not with fear. The moon was so bright that the whole forest landscape around her was almost as clear as day, though it looked wilder. Behind her was the fir wood; away to her right the jagged cliff-tops on the far side of the gorge; straight ahead, open grass to where a glade of trees began about a bow-shot away. Lucy looked very hard at the trees of that glade.

“Why, I do believe they're moving,” she said to her self. “They're walking about.”

She got up, her heart beating wildly, and walked towards them. There was certainly a noise in the glade, a noise such as trees make in a high wind, though there was no wind tonight. Yet it was not exactly an ordinary tree-noise either. Lucy felt there was a tune in it, but she could not catch the tune any more than she had been able to catch the words when the trees had so nearly talked to her the night before. But there was, at least, a lilt; she felt her own feet wanting to dance as she got nearer. And now there was no doubt that the trees were really moving—moving in and out through one another as if in a complicated country dance. (“And I suppose,” thought Lucy, “when trees dance, it must be a very, very country dance indeed.”) She was almost among them now.

The first tree she looked at seemed at first glance to be not a tree at all but a huge man with a shaggy beard and great bushes of hair. She was not frightened: she had seen such things before. But when she looked again he was only a tree, though he was still moving. You couldn't see whether he had feet or roots, of course, because when trees move they don't walk on the surface of the earth; they wade in it as we do in water. The same thing happened with every tree she looked at. At one moment they seemed to be the friendly, lovely giant and giantess forms which the tree-people put on when some good magic has called them into full life: next moment they all looked like trees again. But when they looked like trees, it was like strangely human trees, and when they looked like people, it was like strangely branchy and leafy people—and all the time that queer lilting, rustling, cool, merry noise.

“They are almost awake, not quite,” said Lucy. She knew she herself was wide awake, wider than anyone usually is.

She went fearlessly in among them, dancing herself as, she leaped this way and that to avoid being run into by these huge partners. But she was only half interested in them. She wanted to get beyond them to something else; it was from beyond them that the dear voice had called.

She soon got through them (half wondering whether she had been using her arms to push branches aside, or to take hands in a Great Chain with big dancers who stooped to reach her) for they were really a ring of trees round a central open place. She stepped out from among their shifting confusion of lovely lights and shadows.

A circle of grass, smooth as a lawn, met her eyes, with dark trees dancing all round it. And then—oh joy! For he was there: the huge Lion, shining white in the moonlight, with his huge black shadow underneath him.

But for the movement of his tail he might have been a stone lion, but Lucy never thought of that. She never stopped to think whether he was a friendly lion or not. She rushed to him. She felt her heart would burst if she lost a moment. And the next thing she knew was that she was kissing him and putting her arms as far round his neck as she could and burying her face in the beautiful rich silkiness of his mane.

“Aslan, Aslan. Dear Aslan,” sobbed Lucy. “At last.”

The great beast rolled over on his side so that Lucy fell, half sitting and half lying between his front paws. He bent forward and just touched her nose with his tongue. His warm breath came all round her. She gazed up into the large wise face.

“Welcome, child,” he said.

“Aslan,” said Lucy, “you're bigger.”

“That is because you are older, little one,” answered he.

“Not because you are?”

“I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger.”

For a time she was so happy that she did not want to speak. But Aslan spoke.

“Lucy,” he said, “we must not lie here for long. You have work in hand, and much time has been lost today.”

“Yes, wasn't it a shame?” said Lucy. “I saw you all right. They wouldn't believe me. They're all so—”

From somewhere deep inside Aslan's body there came the faintest suggestion of a growl.

“I'm sorry,” said Lucy, who understood some of his moods. “I didn't mean to start slanging the others. But it wasn't my fault anyway, was it?”

The Lion looked straight into her eyes.

“Oh, Aslan,” said Lucy. “You don't mean it was? How could I—I couldn't have left the others and come up to you alone, how could I? Don't look at me like that... oh well, I suppose I could. Yes, and it wouldn't have been alone, I know, not if I was with you. But what would have been the good?”

Aslan said nothing.

“You mean,” said Lucy rather faintly, “that it would have turned out all right—somehow? But how? Please, Aslan! Am I not to know?”

“To know what would have happened, child?” said Aslan. “No. Nobody is ever told that.”

“Oh dear,” said Lucy.

“But anyone can find out what will happen,” said Aslan. “If you go back to the others now, and wake them up; and tell them you have seen me again; and that you must all get up at once and follow me—what will happen? There is only one way of finding out.”

“Do you mean that is what you want me to do?” gasped Lucy.

“Yes, little one,” said Aslan.

“Will the others see you too?” asked Lucy.

“Certainly not at first,” said Aslan. “Later on, it depends.”

“But they won't believe me!” said Lucy.

“It doesn't matter,” said Aslan.

“Oh dear, oh dear,” said Lucy. “And I was so pleased at finding you again. And I thought you'd let me stay. And I thought you'd come roaring in and frighten all the enemies away—like last time. And now everything is going to be horrid.”

“It is hard for you, little one,” said Aslan. “But things never happen the same way twice. It has been hard for us all in Narnia before now.”

Lucy buried her head in his mane to hide from his face. But there have been magic in his mane. She could feel lion-strength going into . Quite suddenly she sat up.

“I'm sorry, Aslan,” she said. “I'm ready now.”

“Now you are a lioness,” said Aslan. “And now all Narnia will be renewed. But come. We have no time to lose.”

He got up and walked with stately, noiseless paces back to the belt of dancing trees through which she had just come: and Lucy went with him, laying a rather tremulous hand on his mane. The trees parted to let them through and for one second assumed their human forms completely. Lucy had a glimpse of tall and lovely wood-gods and wood-goddesses all bowing to the Lion; next moment they were trees again, but still bowing, with such graceful sweeps of branch and trunk that their bowing was itself a kind of dance.

“Now, child,” said Aslan, when they had left the trees behind them, “I will wait here. Go and wake the others and tell them to follow. If they will not, then you at least must follow me alone.”

It is a terrible thing to have to wake four people, all older than yourself and all very tired, for the purpose of telling them something they probably won't believe and making them do something they certainly won't like. “I mustn't think about it, I must just do it,” thought Lucy.

She went to Peter first and shook him. “Peter,” she whispered in his ear, “wake up. Quick. Aslan is here. He says we've got to follow him at once.”

“Certainly, Lu. Whatever you like,” said Peter unexpectedly. This was encouraging, but as Peter instantly rolled round and went to sleep again it wasn't much use.

Then she tried Susan. Susan did really wake up, but only to say in her most annoying grown-up voice, “You've been dreaming, Lucy. Go to sleep again.”

She tackled Edmund next. It was very difficult to wake him, but when at last she had done it he was really awake and sat up.

“Eh?” he said in a grumpy voice. “What are you talking about?”

She said it all over again. This was one of the worst parts of her job, for each time she said it, it sounded less convincing.

“Aslan!” said Edmund, jumping up. “Hurray! Where?”

Lucy turned back to where she could see the Lion waiting, his patient eyes fixed upon her. “There,” she said, pointing.

“Where?” asked Edmund again.

“There. There. Don't you see? Just this side of the trees.”

Edmund stared hard for a while and then said, “No. There's nothing there. You've got dazzled and muddled with the moonlight. One does, you know. I thought I saw something for a moment myself. It's only an optical what-do-you-call-it.”

“I can see him all the time,” said Lucy. “He's looking straight at us.”

“Then why can't I see him?”

“He said you mightn't be able to.”

“Why?”

“I don't know. That's what he said.”

“Oh, bother it all,” said Edmund. “I do wish you wouldn't keep on seeing things. But I suppose we'll have to wake the others.”

第十章 阿斯兰归来

沿着峡谷边缘行走可不像看起来的那么容易。没走多少码,他们就被长在悬崖边的冷杉幼林挡住了去路。他们试图穿越这片树林,弯着腰挣扎行进了约十分钟,才意识到在这片林子里走半英里就得花上一个钟头。他们只好返回重新来过,决定绕着杉树林走。这使得他们大大偏离了原定的右边方向,远得看不见悬崖,听不到河流声,这时他们开始担心他们完全走错了。没人知道几点,但气温最高的正午时分差不多到了。

当他们最后总算走回到峡谷边上时,发现他们这一侧的峡谷峭壁要低矮得多,比他们的出发地低了约一英里,而且更崎岖。他们很快找到了一条路径,爬下了峡谷,沿着河边继续他们的行程。不过在继续之前,他们先停下歇息了一会儿,喝足了水。没人再谈起跟凯斯宾一块共进午餐甚或是晚餐的事了。

明智的做法不是在峡谷顶上走而是挨着拉什河走。这能确保他们走对方向:遭遇了那片杉树林后,他们一直担心会不由自主地偏离路线太远,在树林里迷路。那片树林古老,无路可行,在那里面根本没法走直路。大片大片令人绝望的荆棘,倒伏的大树,泥泞的沼泽,茂密的矮树丛,总是层出不穷地挡住他们的去路。不过,拉什河峡谷也根本不是一个好行走的地方。我是说,对匆忙赶路的人来说不是个好地方。可要是午后漫游,再来上一份野外茶点,那倒是令人愉悦的。就游览而言,这里的景致应有尽有:轰鸣的瀑布,银色的飞流,琥珀色的深潭,爬满青苔的岩石,岸边的深苔,深得一脚踩下可陷及脚踝,各种蕨类植物,宝石一般的蜻蜓,时不时有鹰在头顶掠过,还见到了一只雕(彼得和特鲁普金都这么认为)。不过,当然啦,孩子们和矮人最想见到的就是他们下方的大河,还有贝鲁纳浅滩,以及去向阿斯兰堡垒的路径。

越继续前行,拉什河流经的地方越陡峭。他们更多是在爬行,而不是在行走——在有些地方,他们很艰险地攀爬,要翻过滑溜的岩石,身下就是幽暗的深谷,谷底是轰鸣湍急的河流。

你可以想见他们如何急切地查看左边悬崖,想找到任何裂口或任何能攀爬的缝隙;可那些悬崖险得很。这真让人发疯,因为大家都知道,只要走出峡谷,他们只需要越过一个缓坡,再走上一小段路就能到达凯斯宾的指挥部。

男孩们和矮人都赞成现在生火烤熊肉吃。苏珊不想这么干;像她说的,她只想“继续走,走到头,走出这些讨厌的树林”。露西太累太难受,顾不上思考什么。可既然没有干柴可寻,任何想法都不再重要。男孩们开始动起了心思,不知道生肉是不是真像人家说的那样尝起来恶心。特鲁普金向他们保证确实如此。

当然啦,要是几天前在英国让孩子们经历如此旅程,他们早就累垮了。之前我已经解释过纳尼亚如何改造他们了。哪怕是露西,可以说,如今的她只剩下三分之一还是那个第一次上寄宿学校的小女孩,另外三分之二是纳尼亚的露西女王。

“总算走出来了!”苏珊说。

“啊,万岁!”彼得说。

河谷在此转弯,他们身下的景色一览无遗。他们看到脚下开阔的原野一直延伸到天际,原野与他们之间隔着大河,像一条宽阔的银色带子。他们看到那处特别宽且浅的河滩,那里曾经是贝鲁纳浅滩,但如今立起了一座长长的多孔拱桥。桥的远处有一座小镇。

“天啊,”埃德蒙说,“我们就在小镇那里打了贝鲁纳战役!”

没有什么比这更能振奋两个男孩了。当再次见到几百年前曾经赢得一场辉煌战役的地方,你会情不自禁地豪气倍增,更别提那场胜利赢得了一个王国。彼得和埃德蒙津津有味地谈论着那场战役,忘却了脚的酸痛和肩背上盔甲的沉重。矮人也听得入神。

大家都加快脚步继续前行。路好走了些。尽管他们左边还是陡峭的悬崖,不过他们右侧的地面坡度趋于缓和。很快他们走出了陡峭的峡谷,面前是一片山谷。这里没有了瀑布,他们很快进入了一片密林。

接着,很突然地“嗖”的一声,听起来很像啄木鸟发出的啄木声。孩子们还在寻思多年前在哪里听到过类似的声响,还纳闷为什么他们讨厌这个声音,这时就听到特鲁普金大喊:“趴下!”同时把他身旁的露西拽倒在蕨丛中。彼得,正抬起头来看是否来了一只松鼠,明白了那是什么声音——一支长利箭擦过他的头顶扎入了树干。他刚把苏珊拽倒,自己趴下,另一支箭刺耳地擦过他的肩头,射入了他身旁的地面。

“快!快!后退!爬行!”特鲁普金喘着气说。

他们转身,扭动着身子爬上山坡,身下是蕨草,周边是讨厌的嗡嗡叫的成群蝇虫。箭矢在他们身边嗖嗖地掠过。一支箭射中了苏珊的头盔,发出砰的一声锐响后弹开。他们加速爬行,大汗淋漓。接着他们跑了起来,几乎呈九十度猫着腰。男孩们把剑握在手里,免得被剑绊倒。

太令人沮丧了,又得重新上坡,重走刚才走过的路。当他们觉得再也跑不动时,哪怕就是为了逃命,他们全都累倒在瀑布边的一块大石后,倒在潮湿的苔藓上,上气不接下气。见到自己居然爬了这么高,他们都吃了一惊。

他们凝神倾听,没有听到追踪的声响。

“没事了,”特鲁普金说,深吸了一口气,“他们没搜查树林。看来那些仅是哨兵。不过,那就意味着米亚兹在那里设了哨所。该死的!(1)刚才可真险。”

“把大家带上这条路,我真该掴自己的脑袋。”彼得说。

“恰恰相反,陛下,”矮人说,“原因之一,不是你,而是你的御弟,埃德蒙国王,是他最早建议我们走清水湾这条路。”

“恐怕D.L.F.说对了。”埃德蒙说,出状况以来他的确把这点给忘掉了。

“原因之二,”特鲁普金继续道,“要是刚才照我的路线走,我们要么直接走入那个新哨所的伏击范围,极有这个可能;要么为避开那个哨所我们也至少得遭遇同样的麻烦。我认为,这条清水湾路线实际上是最佳的路线。”

“因祸得福。”苏珊说。

“这祸可够大的!”埃德蒙说。

“我想我们现在只能沿着峡谷往上走。”露西说。

“露,你真是个好人,”彼得说,“你本可以说‘早该听我的’,可你没有。上路吧。”

“等我们进入树林,”特鲁普金说,“不管你们说什么,我都要生火做晚餐。不过得先离开这里。”

他们如何艰难返回不必赘述。虽然艰难,可奇怪的是,大家开朗起来。他们正缓过劲来,而且“晚餐”一词效果非凡。

他们来到那片曾给他们带来很多麻烦的杉树林,这时天色尚未暗下来,他们在一个低洼处扎营。捡拾柴火很乏味,可当篝火燃起,那感觉好极了。他们开始拿出潮湿、油污的一包包熊肉,对那些居家人士来说,这可够恶心的。矮人对烹调很有心得。他们把仅剩的几个苹果裹在熊肉里——就像是苹果馅饼,不过用的是熊肉而非面皮,而且外皮更厚实——然后串在尖木棍上烤。苹果汁渗进肉里,像是烤猪肉用的苹果酱。常以肉为食的熊,肉质不佳,但食用过大量蜂蜜和水果的熊则肉质鲜美,这头熊正好是后者。这真是一顿美餐。而且,当然啦,无须清洗餐具,光是靠着、望着特鲁普金烟斗冒出的烟,舒展疲惫的腿脚,聊着天。每个人都乐观起来,相信第二天就能找到凯斯宾国王,几天后就能打败米亚兹。这些想法可能不够理性,可他们就是那么想的。

很快,他们一个接一个地睡着了。

露西从熟睡中醒来,感觉到这世上她最喜欢的声音在呼唤她的名字。她起初以为那是爸爸的声音,可又不像。接着她以为是彼得的声音,可那也不像。她不想起来,不是因为她还累着——正相反,她休息得很好,骨头的酸痛都消失了——而是因为她感觉太幸福太舒服了。她仰望着纳尼亚明月,那月亮比我们的大,仰望着星空,因为他们露营的地方相对来说较为空旷。

“露西。”呼唤声再次响起,不是爸爸也不是彼得的声音。她坐起身,颤抖起来,是因为激动而不是害怕。月光明亮,她周围的树林景色很清晰,像白昼一样,但看起来更野性。她身后是杉树林;右边是参差的悬崖顶,耸立在峡谷的对面;正前方,是一片开阔的草地,草地的一箭开外是一片林地。露西仔细盯着那处树木。

“哎呀,我确信他们在移动,”她自言自语,“他们在走动。”

她站起来,心跳得厉害,朝他们走去。千真万确,林地传来一种声音,就像是大风天树木的哗哗声,可今晚没风。但又不完全是一般的树林声。露西觉得其中有种旋律,可她无法捕捉到那种旋律,就像前一晚她没能弄明白树木几乎要对她倾诉的话语。但至少,她听出一种轻快的调子;走近时,她发觉自己的脚不由自主地跳起舞来。此时,确信无疑,那些树真的在移动——彼此交错地移动,仿佛在跳一支复杂的乡村舞。“我想,”露西寻思,“树要是跳舞,那肯定是田园舞。”她此时几乎置身其中。

她见到的第一株树,一眼看去根本不像棵树,更像是一个魁梧的男人,胡须乱蓬蓬的,毛发浓密。她没被吓到:她过去见过这类东西。可再一看,他又成了一棵树,虽然还在移动。当然啦,你看不出来他是否有脚或是树根,因为树移动时,他们不是走在地面上;他们在土里移动,就像我们在蹚水一样。她所见的每一棵树都发生了类似的情形。他们时而形似友好可爱的男女巨人,当善意的魔法将树人完全唤醒时,他们就会呈现巨人形状;时而又化身为树。当他们呈现树形时,他们看似是古怪的人形树,而当他们看似是人时,他们又似古怪的长着枝干树叶的人。那怪异而悦耳、带有沙沙声的惬意声音一直响着。

“他们就要苏醒了,但还不完全。”露西说道。她清楚自己是完全清醒的,比谁都清醒。

她毫无畏惧地走到他们中间,不时跳着避开,免得被这些高大的伙伴撞上。不过,她对他们的兴趣倒是不大。她想穿过他们,走近某种东西;那亲切的呼唤声是从树林外传来的。

她很快就穿越了他们(不知是她用手臂将树枝推开,还是手拉着这些高大的舞者,加入了他们的行列,他们要弯下身来才够得着她),这些树木围成一圈,环绕着一片空地。她从他们不断变换交错着的可爱光影中走了出来。

一圈青草地,平整得跟修剪过的草坪一样,展现在她眼前,周边幽暗的树木在跳着舞。于是——啊,欢欣鼓舞!他在那儿:那高大的狮王,在月光下白得发亮,身下投下他巨大的黑色影子。

他要不是摆动着尾巴,就跟石狮一个样,不过,露西根本不那么想。她压根就没想过这头狮子友善与否。她冲向他,要是不马上这么做,她觉得自己的心就要爆裂。下一刻她发觉自己正亲吻着他,手臂尽可能地环抱着他的脖子,脸埋在他那美丽浓密如丝般光滑的鬃毛里。

“阿斯兰,阿斯兰,亲爱的阿斯兰,”露西啜泣着,“终于来了。”

那巨兽侧躺下来,让露西半坐半倚在他的前爪间。他倾身向前,舌头舔了舔她的鼻子。他温暖的气息包围着她。她抬头凝视着那巨大、智慧的脸庞。

“欢迎,孩子。”他说。

“阿斯兰,”露西说,“你变得更高大了。”

“那是因为你岁数增长了,小家伙。”他回答。

“难道不是因为你也年长了吗?”

“我不会老。但你每长大一岁,就会发现我变得更高大。”

她一度太高兴了,不愿说话。但阿斯兰开了口。

“露西,”他说,“我们不能长时间在这儿躺着。你现在有事要做,今天浪费了很多时间。”

“是的,很遗憾。”露西说,“我明明见到你了。他们不肯相信我。他们都那么……”

阿斯兰的身体深处传来一声极低沉的吼声。

“对不起,”露西多少明白他的情绪,“我并不想说别人的坏话。可怎么说那不是我的错,不是吗?”

狮王直视着她的眼睛。

“噢,阿斯兰,”露西说,“难道说你认为是我的错?我怎么能……我无法丢下其他人只身来找你,我怎么能?别那么看着我……好吧,我想我当时能的。嗯,我知道,要是跟你一起,我不会是独自一个。可那又有什么用呢?”

阿斯兰没吭声。

“你是说,”露西弱弱地说,“那样一切会顺利……会多少好起来?可如何会好起来?求你了,阿斯兰!我不能知道吗?”

“想知道那会发生什么,孩子?”阿斯兰说,“没法知道。没人能预知。”

“天啊。”露西说。

“要行动了才知道那会发生什么,”阿斯兰说,“要是你现在回到他们身边,把他们叫醒,告诉他们你又再次见到了我,告诉他们必须马上起来跟你走,那样会发生什么?要知道答案只有一种方式。”

“你想要我这么做?”露西吃惊地说。

“是的,小家伙。”阿斯兰说。

“其他人能看得见你吗?”露西询问。

“开始肯定看不见,”阿斯兰说,“后面会看见,那要视情形而定。”

“可他们不会信我的!”露西说。

“不要紧。”阿斯兰说。

“天啊,天啊,”露西说,“刚才很高兴再次见到你。我还以为你会让我留下。我以为你会咆哮而来,把所有的敌人都吓跑,就像上次一样。可现在一切都不妙。”

“这对你而言是艰难的,小家伙,”阿斯兰说,“可事情不会以同样的方式发生两次。我们大家在纳尼亚一直以来都很艰难。”

露西把头埋进他的鬃毛,以避开看他的脸。他的鬃毛里一定有某种魔力。她感觉到狮子般的力量注入她的身体。猛地,她坐了起来。

“对不起,阿斯兰,”她说,“我现在准备好了。”

“你现在有了狮子的力量,”阿斯兰说,“纳尼亚将要复兴。来吧。我们得抓紧时间。”

他起身,迈着庄严无声的步子走向那圈舞动的树木,露西刚才就是穿越他们而来。露西跟着狮子,颤抖的手拉着他的鬃毛。树木为他们让路,有那么一瞬间他们完全化身为人。露西见到高大可爱的树神和林间仙女纷纷向狮王躬身致意;下一瞬间他们又变回树木,依然鞠躬致敬,优雅地摆动着枝干,像是一种舞蹈。

“好了,孩子,”走出树林后阿斯兰说,“我在此等候。去把其他人唤醒,叫他们跟你走。要是他们不肯,那么至少你只身跟随我。”

要把那四个年纪比你大又疲惫至极的人叫醒可真不容易,更何况就为了跟他们说些他们或许不信的话,而且让他们做他们肯定不愿干的事。“我不要去想,只要做就好了。”露西心想。

她先走向彼得,摇晃他。“彼得,”她在他耳边低语,“醒来。快。阿斯兰来了。他说我们得马上跟他走。”

“当然,露。照你的意思办。”彼得的回答出人意料。这让人振奋,可下一秒彼得翻了一个身又睡了过去,没多少用。

下一个是苏珊。苏珊确实醒了过来,但只是用她那很令人讨厌的大人腔说:“你在做梦吧,露西。接着睡吧。”

下一个她去对付埃德蒙。费了很大劲儿才把他给弄醒,不过她终于成功了,他是真醒了,坐了起来。

“嗯?”他不高兴地说,“你说什么呢?”

她又说了一遍。这是最难做的部分之一,因为她每讲一次,可信度就降低一次。

“阿斯兰!”埃德蒙说,跳了起来,“好哇!在哪儿呢?”

露西转身对着一个方向,她能看见狮王正等在那里,他那耐心的眼睛注视着她。“那里。”她手指着那里。

“哪有?”埃德蒙又问。

“那里。那里。你看不到吗?就在树的这一头。”

埃德蒙仔细看了一会儿,然后说道:“看不见。那里什么也没有。月光弄花了你的眼,看错了。人有时候会这样,你懂的。我刚才有一刻还以为自己见到了什么呢。那只是一种光学上叫作什么的现象。”

“我一直都能看见他,”露西说,“他正看着我们呢。”

“那为什么我看不见他?”

“他说过你可能看不到。”

“为什么?”

“不清楚。他就是那么说的。”

“唉,真麻烦,”埃德蒙说,“我真希望你不要有幻视的毛病。不过,我觉得还是叫醒其他人吧。”

————————————————————

(1) Bottles and battledores:直译为“瓶子和板羽球球板”,这两个英文单词押头韵,不作字面义解,用作感叹词。

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