【Book of Hours/司辰之书】1866: Illumination 原文及翻译
1866：辉光
大不里士
1866年一月
我亲爱的侄子
收到你的来信实在是让我惊讶又喜悦。对你和你的新婚妻子致以最热烈的恭喜与祝福，不过距离你信上的日期已经过去了一整年，所以我想大概也称不上“新婚”了。衷心希望你们这会儿已经有了孩子。哎，但我不得不拒绝你善意的邀请，尽管我深感遗憾。不过至于你的另一个问题，我会回答——至少试着回答。
你真诚的赞颂我作为军人的英勇，但不齿我甘做逃兵的行为。是的，“逃兵”，我承认这个字眼。你不得不替我背负耻辱，但请原谅我。毫无疑问，在另一重历史中，我会继续为女王服务，有时回想起这些我仍会感到后悔。但你可以看到，在那天我的剑被折断了。
需要解释的东西实在太多，我必须仔细斟酌我的措辞。在给你母亲的信里，我说我的马倒霉地被库斯盖军团(Khusgai)的滑膛枪射中了，而这不完全是事实。真相其实更微不足道，但也更至关重要。
当时我们只有不到一百人（我所在的中队兵力不足），而库斯盖军团的人员数却八倍于此。我的侄子，如果你认为相比于爱尔兰人波斯人不值一提，或者与步枪相比滑膛枪毫无威胁，那么今天就让我打消你的这种看法。那天早晨厚重的雾气让福布斯上尉将他们误判成了骑兵。然而他们不是，他们是近卫团的成员，是波斯人中最精锐的步兵，而且早早的排成了方阵，拿着刺刀对准了我们。我们所有人都既精力过剩又缺乏耐心，福布斯上尉注意到，在迷雾中库斯盖军团脱离了波斯主力军，也没有得到额外支援。荣耀就在眼前，当福布斯上尉下令冲锋时，我们欢呼着。
这是无可辩驳的愚行，而且我还没有告诉你我自己犯下的蠢事。但这所有的一切也都是荣耀。帝国希望让波斯国王远离赫拉特公国(Herat)（此地在我们的保护之下），但并不打算一举击败他（因为我们需要他来对抗俄国人）。所以我们虽然在战斗，却并非为了胜利。然后福布斯上尉决定发起进攻。于是你叔叔拿着他的军刀冲锋——我希望我能说当我挥着它时，它在阳光下闪闪发光，但事实上这里除了浓雾还是浓雾。当然，大雾救了我们，否则他们的滑膛枪能瞬间结束我们的生命。浓雾甚至阻滞了他们开火声的传播，所以我们不知道距离他们有多近。突然，我看到他们的帽子、他们惊恐的面孔和由刺刀组成的藩篱出现在我眼前，可怜的米南德试图闪开，但已经迟了。我又能做什么呢，只能试着把他拉住，好让他像其他人一样越过着道刀墙。
好吧，当时我们所有人的情况都很糟糕，可能有些人尤为糟糕。米南德直挺挺地冲向他们的方阵，结果就是被他们的刀刃直接刺穿，当我从他倒下的身子下挣脱出来时，我想他已经死了。借着零星的光，我祈祷着，因为他本值得一个比我能给他的更好的结局。 我刚提到我试图挣脱出来，我的左手也在那个时候被压碎了，但其他摔倒的人情况更差，米南德的脖子明显已经折断了，躺在地上像一个破布袋，他的确死了。我的右手尚有余力挥剑，因此当另一个人向我袭来时，我给了他他应得的死亡，但完全是运气使然——因为当他倒下时，我从他身上拔回我的剑，却发现它也已被米南德压折了。
那时我就站在敌人队伍的中心，但我的同僚们也在向他们进攻，他们的阵型在我们的冲锋下开始溃散，所以这些波斯人的注意力几乎不在我身上。然而我仍毫无战斗力可言，只感自己生存希望渺茫——我手上甚至没有一把完整的剑。骑兵冲入方阵引发的混乱就像是悬崖和波浪，只不过这里的悬崖是血肉之躯，而波浪如滚石般冲击着它。世界充斥着狂暴的血——对双方而言都是如此。
接下来是你可以选择相信——抑或是不相信的部分，决定权在你。
关于这场战役，你已经从其他途径听说过的那版结局大体是真实的：马尔科姆森中尉发现了摔倒的我，他骑着马冲了过来，让我借力登上他的马镫，然后带着我脱离了险境。当他确保我已经安全并转身离开时，这场冲锋已经基本结束了，库斯盖军团投降了——那些少数活下来了的人。在这八百人中，我们最终只活捉了二十人。一场声名卓著的胜利。
但是，侄子，我希望你能有足够的理性去质疑你过去所听到的那个“事实”——在一个一百人对八百人的战场上，一个骑在马上的人像割麦子一样从那些在他面前显得过于脆弱的敌人中杀出一条血路，然后拯救了他英勇的战友。我们两人都因此被授勋——维多利亚十字勋章——最高等的荣誉。还有比这更天方夜谭的事吗？
但所有谎言都是真相的影子——它们总是有着相同的轮廓。在狮子匠的迷宫里我明白了这一点。因此，事实上，马尔科姆森中尉——我仍然这样称呼他，尽管这从来都不是他真正的名字——的确骑着某种东西来救了我。但他骑的根本不是马，甚至不是骑兵马。那是某种更可怕的东西——更闪着金光的东西。
侄子，握紧你的拳头，你能感到肌肉在皮肤之下移动。因而，力量也在世界的表皮下涌动，以一种同样无形但更为强大的脉动。一道只有在睡梦中可见的光，被火焰最先说出来的话语，甚至是一柄剑的破碎。在我差点死去的那片土地上，它们常常称其为“沙普尔的教诲”。
这就是马尔科姆森那天揭露自己力量的部分原因，另一部分是我和他之间的事情。之后他带我去西方进行了一次朝圣，但我不能告诉你那是哪里。（‘仁慈只在影中觅得’，而这封信中的影子太少了。）
不过你要求我告诉你为什么我选择了逃离这里，我会告诉你这一点。在一个远离卡林福德的地方，‘辉光之人’扫罗祝圣了一座‘无敌’之教堂。在教堂之下躺着一个被黑色刚玉包裹着的人。其既非长生者也非凡人，既不是男人也不是女人，既不是真实的也并非仅存于想象之中的。我看到了他闪闪发光的皮肤上所写的东西。所以我再不能回到卡林福德了。
我的侄子，我说过，世界的力量是由不可见的脉动所推动的。但反之亦然。手指带动手，而手带动灵魂。这是一个我尚未完全理解的隐秘，但我已经知道它被称之为“辉光”。
如果你继承了你母亲的良好判断力，那就别再深究此事。然而我们家族中的女性总是比男性要更聪明。所以你和我也许是同一类蠢人，因此我会再多谈一点。
那些我们干掉的库斯盖军团的人，他们的军旗上有一只银手。我们用这个战利品装饰自己的旗帜。是的，“我们”，我仍然这样写，不打算改——然而我已无法分享那种荣耀了。现在它被装点在蒲那骑兵团的旗帜上。要是你真想见识见识，那么我觉得他们会乐意向你展示的——如果你以马尔科姆森的名号而不是我的的话。那面旗帜比库斯盖军团本身古老——我觉得同英格兰一般古老——但不会更早了。那旗帜里有教诲蕴含其中。
司掌照明之秘的存在中最为伟大的是守夜人。他说‘仁慈仅能在影中觅得。’但这并非说仁慈无处可觅，群狮迷宫之中阴影永续长存。
敬祝
你的叔叔
亚瑟
PS1:文本中所提到的战争应当是1856至1857间发生的英国-波斯战争。波斯卡扎尔王朝治下的赫拉特公国宣布独立并接受东印度公司的保护,而后英国与波斯开战。
PS2:文本中所描述的具体战役是英波战争中的库沙卜之战(Battle of Khushab),其中最著名的一场冲突是第三孟买轻骑兵团（后合并为浦那骑兵团）对法尔斯第一库斯盖军团发起的冲锋。首先冲入战场的亚瑟·托马斯·摩尔中尉和随后救出了摩尔的约翰·格兰特·马尔科姆森上尉被授予维多利亚十字勋章。
PS3:文本中提到扫罗祝圣了一座‘无敌之教堂’（a church Invictine）,此处‘invictine’为拉丁语invicta(无敌)的变形。同时与无敌太阳教会名称中的‘无敌’同源。
原文
1866: Illumination
Tabriz
January 1866
My dear nephew
What a surprise and a pleasant one to hear from you. My warmest congratulations and wishes to your new wife, except that it is a year since the date of your letter and so I suppose no longer new. I hope indeed by now you are blest with children. Alas I must refuse your kind invitation though with the deepest regret. But your other question, I will answer. I will try.
You speak kindly of my gallantry and less kindly of my desertion. Yes I acknowledge the word. Forgive me the shame of it which you must carry. There is another History no doubt where I continued in the Empress' service and I think of it sometimes with regret. But you see my sword was broken that day…
So much to explain and I must choose my words carefully. I wrote to your mother that my horse took an unlucky ball from a Khusgai musket. This was not altogether honest. The truth is lesser, and greater.
We numbered barely a hundred (the squadron being somewhat below strength) and the Khusgai eight times that. And my nephew if you think the Persian is to be disregarded against the Irishman, or the musket against the rifle, let me rid you of that thought today. Captain Forbes had taken them for cavalry in the morning mist and they were not, they were of a Guard Regiment, the finest of their infantry, and they stood ready in a square with bayonets fixed against us. But we were all of us in fine spirits and impatient, and Captain Forbes saw that in the mist they had come unstuck from the greater Persian force and were not supported. Here was glory and when he ordered the charge we cheered.
It was foolishness on foolishness and I have not told you yet of my own foolishness and yet all those were glory also. The Empire wished to keep the Shah from Herat (which was under our protection) but not to defeat him (for we needed him against the Russians). So we were fighting but not for victory. Then Capt. Forbes' decision to charge them. And your uncle at the head of the charge with his sabre - I wish I could say it flashed in the sunshine as I brandished it but the mist, the mist. And the mist of course saved us or their muskets would have ended our charge untimely, but it deadened the sound of their fire so we knew not how close until we were on them. Suddenly your uncle sees their shakos and their fierce frightened faces and their bayonets like a fence of knives loom up before him, and poor Menander seeks to swerve aside but it was altogether too late. What am I to do but try to pull his head straight and have him jump that fence like any other.
Well it ended badly for us all and it might have ended worse. Menander crashes down upon their ranks and he is pierced all through by their blades and I think he is dead by the time I haul myself from beneath him. By the Light that was divided I pray it so for he deserved better than I gave him in the end. As I say I haul myself out, and my left hand is crushed, but the other fellow on whom we fell is worse, Menander has broken his neck and he is lying all wrong. My right still serves to swing my sword and when another comes at me I give him what he merits but it is all my luck again, for as he falls and I draw the sword back from him I see that it was broken too by Menander's fall.
There I am then in the very ranks of the enemy but my brother-soldiers cutting at them too and the square beginning to break, so the Persians have other things to worry about than me. Still lamed as I am with barely a sword worth the name I have very little confidence in my situation. The chaos when cavalry crashes upon a square is like a wave upon a cliff only if the cliff was flesh and stones the wave upon it. There is no part of my world or theirs that is not furious blood…
Now comes the part that you can credit or not, as you choose.
The tag-end of the story you will have heard is almost true. Lt. Malcolmson saw me fall and he fought his way through and he lent me his stirrup and we came free and by the time he had seen me safe and turned around again the action was all but done and the Khusgai casting down their weapons. Those few who lived. Of those eight hundred, we took only twenty alive. A famous victory.
The tag-end of the story you will have heard is almost true. Lt. Malcolmson saw me fall and he fought his way through and he lent me his stirrup and we came free and by the time he had seen me safe and turned around again the action was all but done and the Khusgai casting down their weapons. Those few who lived. Of those eight hundred, we took only twenty alive. A famous victory.
But every lie is truth's shadow. There is always a shape they share. I learnt that later in the Labyrinth. So Lt. Malcolmson - I still call him that though it was never his name - rode indeed to my rescue. But what he rode was nothing like a horse, even a cavalry-horse. Fiercer by far - and by far more golden -
Nephew, make a fist of your hand. Muscles move beneath the skin. So powers move beneath the skin of the world, at impulses equally invisible, but greater. A light seen only in sleep; words spoken first by fire. Even the shattering of a sword. In the land where I nearly fell, they used to call that the Shahpur's Lesson.
That is part of why Malcolmson unmasked himself that day, and the other part is between him and me. Later he took me West on a kind of pilgrimage. I cannot tell you where. ('Mercy is found only in shadow,' and there are too few shadows on this letter.)
But you have bound me to speak to you of my desertion, so I will tell you this. In a place far from Carlingford where you will read this, Saul the Illuminate consecrated a church Invictine. Beneath that church one lies sheathed in black corundum, neither Long nor mortal, neither man nor woman, neither real nor imagined. I have seen what is written on his shining skin. And so I can never return to Carlingford.
My nephew, I have said that the powers of the world are moved by secret impulse, but the converse is true also. The fingers move the hand which moves the soul. This is a secret I do not yet entirely understand but I have learnt to call Illumination.
My nephew, I have said that the powers of the world are moved by secret impulse, but the converse is true also. The fingers move the hand which moves the soul. This is a secret I do not yet entirely understand but I have learnt to call Illumination.
The Khusgai that we slew. On their standard they bore a silver hand. We took it as a trophy and it graces now the standard of my regiment. I still write that - I will not strike it out - but of course I cannot no longer claim that honour. It graces now the standard of the Poona Horse. If you ask to see it I think they will show it to you - if you use Malcolmson's name and not mine. It is older than the regiment - as old I think as England. But no older. There is a lesson in it.
Greatest among the powers who illuminate is one called Watchman. He it is who says 'Mercy is found only in shadow.' But he does not say that mercy is nowhere found; and shadows lie long at the Labyrinth of Lions.
Yours ever
your uncle
Arthur
