rj.acrownofswords-第111部分

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pudding〃　all　day；　and　she　would　smile；　but　use　her　name　before　she　said　you　could；　and　you　found　a　hotter　reception　than　you　would　for　goosing　a　strange　woman　on　the　street　anywhere　else。　A　few　kisses　exchanged　were　never　enough　for　permission；　either。
　　　Tylin　did　not　answer；　only　kept　him　tiptoeing　backward；　until　suddenly　his　shoulders　bumped　against　something　that　stopped　him。　With　that　flaming　dagger　never　easing　a　hair；　he　could　not　move　his　head；　but　eyes　that　had　been　focused　on　her　face　darted。　They　were　in　the　bedchamber；　a　flower…carved　red　bedpost　hard　between　his　shoulder　blades。　Why　would　she　bring　him。。。？　His　face　was　suddenly　as　crimson　as　the　bedpost。　No。　She　could　not　mean　to。。。　It　was　not　decent！　It　was　not　possible！
　　　〃You　can't　do　this　to　me；〃　he　mumbled　at　her；　and　if　his　voice　was　a　touch　breathy　and　shrill；　he　surely　had　cause。
　　　〃Watch　and　learn；　my　kitten；〃　Tylin　said；　and　drew　her　marriage　knife。
　　　Afterward；　a　considerable　time　later；　he　irritably　pulled　the　sheet　up　to　his　chest。　A　silk　sheet；　Nalesean　had　been　right。　The　Queen　of　Altara　hummed　happily　beside　the　bed；　arms　twisted　behind　her　to　do　up　the　buttons　of　her　dress。　All　he　had　on　was　the　foxhead　medallion　on　its　cord　…　much　good　that　had　done　…　and　the　black　scarf　tied　around　his　neck。　A　ribbon　on　her　present；　the　bloody　woman　called　it。　He　rolled　over　and　snatched　his　silver…mounted　pipe　and　tabac　pouch　from　the　small　table　on　the　other　side　from　her。　Golden　tongs　and　a　hot　coal　in　a　golden　bowl　of　sand　provided　the　means　for　lighting。　Folding　his　arms；　he　puffed　away　as　fiercely　as　he　frowned。
　　　〃You　should　not　flounce；　duckling；　and　you　shouldn't　pout。〃　She　yanked　her　dagger　from　where　it　was　driven　into　a　bedpost　beside　her　marriage　knife；　examining　the　point　before　sheathing　it。　〃What　is　the　matter？　You　know　you　enjoyed　yourself　as　much　as　I　did；　and　I。。。　〃　She　laughed　suddenly；　and　oh　so　richly；　resheathing　the　marriage　knife　as　well。　〃If　that　is　part　of　what　being　ta'veren　means；　you　must　be　very　popular。〃　Mat　flushed　like　fire。
　　　〃It　isn't　natural；〃　he　burst　out；　yanking　the　pipestem　from　between　his　teeth。　〃I'm　the　one　who's　supposed　to　do　the　chasing！〃　Her　astonished　eyes　surely　mirrored　his　own。　Had　Tylin　been　a　tavern　maid　who　smiled　the　right　way；　he　might　have　tried　his　luck　…　well；　if　the　tavern　maid　lacked　a　son　who　liked　poking　holes　in　people　…　but　he　was　the　one　who　chased。　He　had　just　never　thought　of　it　that　way　before。　He　had　never　had　the　need　to；　before。
　　　Tylin　began　laughing；　shaking　her　head　and　wiping　at　her　eyes　with　her　fingers。　〃Oh；　pigeon。　I　do　keep　forgetting。　You　are　in　Ebou　Dar；　now。　I　left　a　little　present　for　you　in　the　sitting　room。〃　She　patted　his　foot　through　the　sheet。　〃Eat　well　today。　You　are　going　to　need　your　strength。〃
　　　Mat　put　a　hand　over　his　eyes　and　tried　very　hard　not　to　weep。　When　he　uncovered　them；　she　was　gone。
　　　Climbing　out　of　the　bed；　he　tucked　the　sheet　around　him；　for　some　reason；　the　notion　of　walking　around　bare　felt　unfortable。　The　bloody　woman　might　leap　out　of　the　wardrobe。　The　garments　he　had　been　wearing　lay　on　the　floor。　Why　bother　with　laces；　he　thought　sourly；　when　you　can　just　cut　somebody's　clothes　off！　She　had　no　call　to　slice　up　his　red　coat　that　way；　though。　She　had　just　enjoyed　peeling　him　with　her　knife。
　　　Not　quite　holding　his　breath；　he　pulled　open　the　tall　red…and…gilt　wardrobe。　She　was　not　hiding　inside。　His　choices　were　limited；　Nerim　had　most　of　his　coats　for　cleaning　or　mending。　Dressing　quickly；　he　chose　a　plain　coat　of　dark　bronze　silk；　then　stuffed　the　sliced　rags　as　far　under　the　bed　as　he　could　reach　until　he　could　dispose　of　them　without　Nerim　seeing。　Or　anyone　else；　for　that　matter。　Too　many　people　already　knew　entirely　too　much　of　what　was　going　on　between　him　and　Tylin；　there　was　no　way　he　could　face　anybody　knowing　this。
　　　In　the　sitting　room；　he　lifted　the　lid　of　the　lacquerware　box　by　the　door；　then　let　it　fall　with　a　sigh；　he　had　not　really　expected　Tylin　to　replace　the　key。　He　leaned　against　the　door。　The　unlocked　door。　Light；　what　was　he　going　to　do？　Move　back　to　the　inn？　Burn　why　the　dice　had　stopped　before。　Only；　he　would　not　put　it　past　Tylin　to　bribe　Mistress　Anan　and　Enid；　or　the　innkeeper　wherever　he　went。　He　would　not　put　it　past　Nynaeve　and　Elayne　to　claim　he　had　broken　some　agreement　and　put　an　end　to　their　promises。　Burn　all　women！
　　　A　large　parcel　elaborately　wrapped　in　green　paper　sat　on　one　of　the　tables。　It　contained　an　eagle　mask　in　black　and　gold　and　a　coat　covered　with　feathers　to　match。　There　was　also　a　red　silk　purse　holding　twenty　gold　crowns　and　a　note　that　smelled　of　flowers。
　　　
　　　I　would　have　bought　you　an　earring；　piglet；　but　I　noticed　your　ear　is　not　pierced。　Have　it　done；　and　buy　yourself　something　nice。
　　　
　　　He　nearly　wept　again。　He　gave　women　presents。　The　world　was　standing　on　its　head！　Piglet？　Oh；　Light！　After　a　minute；　he　did　take　the　mask；　she　owed　him　that　much；　for　his　coat　alone。
　　　When　he　finally　reached　the　small；　shaded　courtyard　where　they　had　been　meeting　each　morning　beside　a　tiny　round　pool　of　lily　pads　and　brightly　spotted　white　fish；　he　found　Nalesean　and　Birgitte　ready　for　the　Festival　of　Birds；　too。　The　Tairen　had　contented　himself　with　a　plain　green　mask；　but　Birgitte's　was　a　spray　of　yellow…and…red　with　a　crest　of　plumes；　her　golden　hair　hung　loose；　with　feathers　tied　all　down　its　length；　and　she　wore　a　dress　with　a　wide　yellow　belt；　diaphanous　beneath　more　red　and　yellow　feathers。　It　did　not　reveal　nearly　as　much　as　Riselle's；　yet　it　seemed　about　to　every　time　she　moved。　He　had　never　thought　of　her　wearing　a　dress　like　other　women。
　　　〃Sometimes　it's　fun　to　be　looked　at；〃　she　said；　poking　him　in　the　ribs；　when　he　mented。　Her　grin　would　have　done　for　Nalesean　saying　how　much　fun　it　was　to　pinch　serving　girls。　〃There's　a　lot　more　to　it　than　feather　dancers　wore；　but　not　enough　to　it　to　slow　me　down；　and　anyway；　I　cannot　see　we'll　have　to　move　quickly　on　this　side　of　the　river。〃　The　dice　rattled　in　his　head。　〃What　kept　you？〃　she　went　on。　〃You　didn't　make　us　wait　so　you　could　tickle　a　pretty　girl；　I　hope。〃　He　hoped　he　was　not　blushing。
　　　〃I　…　〃　He　was　not　certain　what　excuse　he　would　have　made；　but　just　then　half　a　dozen　men　wearing　feathered　coats　strolled　into　the　courtyard；　all　with　those　narrow　swords　on　their　hips；　all　but　one　wearing　an　elaborate　mask　with　colorful　crest　and　beak　that　represented　no　bird　ever　seen　by　human　eyes。　The　exception　was　Beslan；　twirling　his　mask　by　its　ribbon。　〃Oh；　blood　and　bloody　ashes；　what's　he　doing　here？〃
　　　〃Beslan？〃　Nalesean　folded　his　hands　on　the　pommel　of　his　sword　and　shook　his　head　in　disbelief。　〃Why；　burn　my　soul；　he　says　he　intends　to　spend　the　festival　in　your　pany。　Some　promise　you　two　made；　he　says。　I　told　him　it　would　be　deadly　boring；　but　he　wouldn't　believe　me。〃
　　　〃I　cannot　think　it　is　ever　boring　around　Mat；〃　Tylin's　son　said；　his　bow　took　them　all　in；　but　his　dark　eyes　especially　lingered　on　Birgitte。　〃I've　never　had　so　much　fun　as　I　did　drinking　with　him　and　the　Lady　Elayne's　Warder　on　Swovan　Night；　though　truth；　I　remember　little。〃　He　did　not　seem　to　recognize　that　Warder。　Strangely；　considering　the　taste　she　had　shown　in　men　…　Beslan　was　fine…looking；　maybe　a　little　too　fine；　not　at　all　her　sort　…　strangely；　she　smiled　slightly；　and　preened　under　his　scrutiny。
　　　Right　then；　Mat　did　not　care　how　out　of　character　she　behaved。　Obviously　Beslan　suspected　nothing；　or　that　sword　of　his　likely　would　already　be　out；　but　the　last　thing　under　the　Light　Mat　wanted　was　a　day　in　pany　with　the　man。　It　would　be　excruciating。　He　had　some　sense　of　decency；　even　if　Beslan's　mother　did　not。
　　　The　only　problem　was　Beslan；　who　took　that　bloody　promise　to　attend　all　the　festivals　and　feastdays　together　very　seriously。　The　more　Mat　agreed　with　Nalesean　that　the　day　they　had　planned　would　be　dull　beyond　belief；　the　more　determined　Beslan　grew。　After　a　bit；　his　face　began　to　darken；　and　Mat　began　to　think　that　sword　might　be　unsheathed　yet。　Well；　a　promise　was　a　promise。　When　he　and　Nalesean　and　Birgitte　left　the　palace；　half　a　dozen　feathered　fools　strutted　along。　Mat　was　sure　it　would　not　have　happened　had　Birgitte　been　wearing　her　proper　clothes。　The　whole　lot　of　them　kept　eyeing　her　and　smiling。
　　　〃What　was　all　that　twisting　around　while　he　was　spilling　his　eyes　all　over　you？〃　he　muttered　as　they　crossed　the　Mol　Hara。　He　tugged　the　ribbon　holding　the　eagle　mask　tighter。
　　　〃I　did　not　twist；　I　moved。〃　Her　primness　was　so　blatantly　false；　he　would　have　laughed　some　other　time。　〃Slightly。〃　Abruptly　her　grin　was　back；　and　she　lowered　her　voice　for　his　ear　alone。　〃I　told　you　sometimes　it's　fun　to　be　looked　at；　just　because　they're　all　too　pretty　doesn't　mean　I　cannot　enjoy　them　looking。　Oh；　you'll　want　to　look　at　her；〃　she　added；　pointing　to　a　slender　woman　who　went　running　by　in　a　blue　owl　mask　and　rather　fewer　feathers　than　Riselle　had　worn。
　　　That　was　one　of　the　things　about　Birgitte；　she　would　nudge　him　in　the　ribs　and　point　out　a　pretty　girl　for　his　eye　as　readily　as　any　man　he　had　ever　known；　and　expect　him　to　point　out　in　turn　what　she　liked　to　see；　which　was　generally　the　ugliest　man　in　sight。　Whether　or　not　she　chose　to　go　half…naked　today　…　a　quarter；　anyway　…　she　was。。。　well；　a　friend。　A　strange　world；　it　was　turning　out　to　be。　One　woman　he　was　beginning　to　think　of　as　a　drinking　panion；　and　another　after　him　as　intently　as　he　had　ever　pursued　any　pretty　woman；　in　those　old　memories　or　his　own。　More　intently；　he　had　never　chased　any　woman　who　let　him　know　she　did　not　want　to　be　chased。　A　very　strange　world。
　　　The　sun　stood　little　more　than　halfway　to　its　peak；　but　already　celebrants　filled　the　streets　and　squares　and　bridges。　Tumblers　and　jugglers　and　musicians　with　feathers　sewn　about　their　clothes　performed　at　every　street　corner；　the　music　often　drowned　in　laughter　and　shouting。　For　the　poorer　folk　a　few　feathers　laced　into　their　hair　sufficed；　pigeon　feathers　gathered　from　the　pavement　for　the　street　children　dodging　about　and　the　beggars；　but　masks　and　costumes　grew　more　elaborate　as　purses　grew　heavier。　More　elaborate；　and　frequently　mor