rj.acrownofswords-第116部分

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oidered　in　gold　down　the　sleeves　and　across　the　bodice；　with　golden　lace　along　the　hem；　and　at　her　wrists；　and　just　bordering　the　neckline。　Perhaps　that　should　have　been　higher；　to　be　taken　seriously；　but　she　did　not　own　anything　higher。　Considering　Sea　Folk　customs；　it　was　more　than　modest。　Nesta　would　have　to　take　her　as　she　was；　Nynaeve　al'Meara　did　not　go　changing　herself　for　anyone。
　　　The　yellow　opal　pins　stuck　in　her　braid　were　her　own　…　a　present　from　the　Panarch　of　Tarabon；　no　less　…　but　Tylin　had　provided　the　gold　necklace　that　fanned　emeralds　and　pearls　down　to　her　bosom。　A　richer　piece　than　she　had　ever　dreamed　of　owning；　a　gift　for　bringing　Mat；　Tylin　had　called　it；　which　made　no　sense　at　all；　but　maybe　the　Queen　thought　she　needed　some　excuse　for　such　a　valuable　present。　Both　gold…and…ivory　bracelets　came　from　Aviendha；　who　had　a　surprising　little　stock　of　jewelry　for　a　woman　who　so　seldom　wore　more　than　that　one　silver　necklace。　Nynaeve　had　asked　to　borrow　that　pretty　roses…and…thorns　ivory　bracelet　that　the　Aiel　woman　never　wore；　surprisingly；　Aviendha　had　snatched　it　to　her　bosom　as　if　it　was　her　most　precious　possession；　and　of　all　things；　Elayne　began　forting　her。　Nynaeve　would　not　have　been　surprised　to　see　the　pair　fall　weeping　on　one　another's　shoulder。
　　　There　was　something　odd　going　on　there；　and　if　she　had　not　known　those　two　were　too　sensible　for　such　nonsense；　she　would　have　suspected　a　man　at　the　root　of　it。　Well；　Aviendha　was　too　sensible；　Elayne　did　still　yearn　for　Rand；　though　Nynaeve　could　hardly　fault　her　for　…
　　　Suddenly　she　felt　weaves　of　saidar　almost　atop　her　in　huge　amounts；　and。。。
　　　。　。　。　she　floundered　in　salty　water　over　her　head；　flailing　upward　to　find　air；　tangled　in　her　skirts；　flailing。　Her　head　broke　surface；　and　she　gasped　for　breath　amid　floating　cushions；　staring　in　astonishment。　After　a　moment；　she　recognized　the　slanting　shape　above　her　as　one　of　the　cabin　seats；　and　a　bit　of　the　cabin　wall。　She　was　inside　a　trapped　pocket　of　air。　Not　large；　she　could　have　touched　both　sides　without　stretching　her　arms　out　fully。　But　how。。。？　An　audible　thud　announced　the　bottom　of　the　river；　the　upside…down　cabin；　lurched；　tilted。　She　thought　the　air　pocket　shrank　a　little。
　　　The　first　order　of　business；　before　wondering　about　anything；　was　getting　out　before　she　used　up　the　air。　She　knew　how　to　swim　…　she　had　splashed　in　the　Waterwood　ponds　often　enough　back　home　…　it　was　just　when　the　water　started　rocking　her　about　that　she　minded。　Filling　her　lungs；　she　doubled　over　and　swam　down　toward　where　the　door　must　be；　kicking　awkwardly　because　of　her　skirts。　It　might　help　to　shed　the　dress；　but　she　was　not　about　to　bob　to　the　surface　of　the　river　in　nothing　but　shift　and　stockings　and　jewels。　She　was　not　about　to　leave　those　behind；　either。　Besides；　she　could　not　get　out　of　the　dress　without　loosing　her　belt　pouch；　and　she　would　drown　before　losing　what　was　in　there。
　　　The　water　was　black；　lightless。　Her　outstretched　fingers　struck　wood；　and　she　felt　across　the　piercework　carving　until　she　found　the　door；　scrabbled　down　the　edge　of　that　…　and　found　a　hinge。　Muttering　imprecations　in　her　head；　she　cautiously　felt　her　way　to　the　other　side。　Yes！　The　latch　handle！　She　lifted　it；　pushed　outward。　The　door　moved　maybe　two　inches　…　and　stopped。
　　　Lungs　straining；　she　swam　back　up　to　the　pocket；　but　only　long　enough　to　fill　them　again。　This　time；　finding　the　door　came　faster。　She　stuck　her　fingers　through　the　crack　to　find　what　held　the　door　shut。　They　sank　into　mud。　Maybe　she　could　dig　away　a　little　hillock；　or。。。　She　felt　higher。　More　mud。　Increasingly　frantic；　she　worked　her　fingers　from　the　bottom　of　the　crack　to　the　top；　and　then；　refusing　to　believe；　from　the　top　to　the　bottom。　Mud；　solid　gooey　mud；　all　the　way。
　　　This　time　when　she　swam　back　up　to　the　pocket；　she　grabbed　hold　of　the　edge　of　the　seat　above　her　and　hung　from　it；　panting；　heart　beating　wildly。　The　air　felt。。。　thicker。
　　　〃I　will　not　die　here；〃　she　muttered。　〃I　will　not　die　here！〃
　　　She　hammered　a　fist　against　the　seat　until　she　felt　it　bruise；　fighting　for　the　anger　that　would　allow　her　to　channel。　She　would　not　die。　Not　here。　Alone。　No　one　would　know　where　she　had　died。　No　grave；　just　a　corpse　rotting　at　the　bottom　of　the　river。　Her　arm　fell　with　a　splash。　She　labored　for　breath。　Flecks　of　black　and　silver　danced　in　her　eyes；　she　seemed　to　be　looking　down　a　tube。　No　anger；　she　realized　dimly。　She　kept　trying　to　reach　for　saidar；　but　without　any　belief　that　she　would　touch　it；　now。　She　was　going　to　die　here　after　all。　No　hope。　No　Lan。　And　with　hope　gone；　flickering　on　the　edge　of　consciousness　like　a　guttering　candle　flame；　she　did　something　she　had　never　done　before　in　her　life。　She　surrendered　pletely。
　　　Saidar　flowed　into　her；　filled　her。
　　　She　was　only　half…aware　of　the　wood　above　her　suddenly　bulging　outward；　bursting。　In　rushing　bubbles　of　air　she　drifted　up；　out　through　the　hole　in　the　hull　into　darkness。　Vaguely；　she　knew　she　should　do　something。　She　could　almost　remember　what。　Yes。　Her　feet　kicked　weakly；　she　tried　to　move　her　arms　to　swim。　They　seemed　to　just　float
　　　Something　seized　her　dress；　and　panic　roused　her　in　thoughts　of　sharks；　and　lionfish；　and　the　Light　alone　knew　what　else　that　might　inhabit　these　black　depths。　A　spark　of　consciousness　spoke　of　the　Power；　but　she　flailed　desperately　with　fists　and　feet；　felt　her　knuckles　land　solidly。　Unfortunately；　she　also　screamed；　or　tried　to。　A　great　quantity　of　water　rushing　down　her　throat　washed　away　scream；　saidar；　and　very　nearly　her　final　scraps　of　awareness。
　　　Something　tugged　on　her　braid；　then　again；　and　she　was　being　towed。。。　somewhere。　She　was　no　longer　conscious　enough　to　struggle；　or　even　to　be　very　much　afraid　of　being　eaten。
　　　Abruptly　her　head　broke　surface。　Hands　encircled　her　from　behind　…　hands；　not　a　shark；　after　all　…　squeezed　hard　against　her　ribs　in　a　most　familiar　way。　She　coughed　…　water　spewed　from　her　nose　…　coughed　again；　painfully。　And　drew　a　shuddering　breath。　She　had　never　tasted　anything　so　sweet　in　her　life。
　　　A　hand　cupped　her　chin；　and　suddenly　she　was　being　towed　again。　Lassitude　washed　though　her。　All　she　could　do　was　float　on　her　back；　and　breathe；　and　stare　up　at　the　sky。　So　blue。　So　beautiful。　The　stinging　in　her　eyes　was　not　all　from　the　salty　river。
　　　And　then　she　was　being　pushed　upward　against　the　side　of　a　boat；　a　rude　hand　beneath　her　bottom　shoving　her　higher；　until　two　lanky　fellows　with　brass　rings　in　their　ears　could　reach　down　and　haul　her　aboard。　They　helped　her　walk　a　step　or　two；　but　as　soon　as　they　let　go　to　help　her　rescuer；　her　legs　collapsed　like　towers　of　soggy　mush。
　　　On　unsteady　hands　and　knees；　she　stared　blankly　at　a　sword　and　boots　and　green　coat　someone　had　thrown　down　on　the　deck。　She　opened　her　mouth　…　and　emptied　herself　of　the　River　Elbar。　The　entire　river；　it　seemed；　plus　her　midday　meal；　and　her　breakfast；　it　would　not　have　surprised　her　at　all　to　see　a　few　fish；　or　her　slippers。　She　was　wiping　her　lips　with　the　back　of　her　hand　when　she　became　aware　of　voices。
　　　〃My　Lord　is　all　right？　My　Lord　was　down　for　a　very　long　time。〃
　　　〃Forget　me；　man；〃　said　a　deep　voice。　〃Get　something　to　wrap　around　the　lady。〃　Lan's　voice；　that　she　dreamed　every　night　of　hearing。
　　　Wide…eyed；　Nynaeve　barely　bit　back　a　wail；　the　horror　she　had　felt　when　she　thought　she　was　going　to　die　was　nothing　alongside　what　flashed　through　her　now。　Nothing！　This　was　a　nightmare。　Not　now！　Not　like　this！　Not　when　she　was　a　drowned　rat；　kneeling　with　the　contents　of　her　stomach　spread　out　before　her！
　　　Without　thought　she　embraced　saidar　and　channeled。　Water　fell　away　from　her　clothes；　her　hair；　in　a　rush　and　washed　all　evidence　of　her　little　mishap　out　through　a　scupper　hole。　Scrambling　to　her　feet；　she　hurriedly　pulled　her　necklace　aright　and　did　her　best　to　straighten　her　dress　and　hair；　but　the　soaking　in　salt　water　and　then　the　rapid　drying　had　left　several　stains　on　the　silk　and　a　number　of　creases　that　would　require　a　knowledgeable　hand　with　a　hot　iron　to　remove。　Wisps　of　hair　wanted　to　fly　away　from　her　scalp；　and　the　opals　in　her　braid　seemed　to　dot　the　bristling　tail　of　an　angry　cat。
　　　It　did　not　matter。　She　was　calmness　itself；　cool　as　an　early　spring　breeze；　self…possessed　as。。。　She　spun　around　before　he　could　e　on　her　from　behind　and　startle　her　into　disgracing　herself　pletely。
　　　She　only　realized　how　quickly　she　had　moved　when　she　saw　that　Lan　was　just　then　taking　his　second　step　from　the　railing。　He　was　the　most　beautiful　man　she　had　ever　seen。　Soaking　wet　in　shirt　and　breeches　and　stockings；　he　was　gorgeous；　with　his　dripping　hair　clinging　to　the　angles　of　his　face；　and。。。　A　split　purple　bruise　was　rising　on　his　face；　as　from　a　blow。　She　clapped　a　hand　to　her　mouth；　remembering　her　fist　connecting。
　　　〃Oh；　no！　Oh；　Lan；　I'm　so　sorry！　I　didn't　mean　to！〃　She　was　not　really　aware　of　crossing　the　space　between　them；　she　was　just　there；　stretching　up　on　toetips　to　lay　fingers　gently　on　his　injury。　A　deft　weave　of　all　Five　Powers；　and　his　tanned　cheek　was　unblemished。　But　he　might　have　been　hurt　elsewhere。　She　spun　the　weaves　to　Delve　him；　new　scars　made　her　wince　inside；　and　there　was　something　odd；　but　he　seemed　healthy　as　a　prime　bull。　He　was　also　very　wet；　from　saving　her。　She　dried　him　as　she　had　herself；　water　splashed　around　his　feet。　She　could　not　stop　touching　him。　Both　hands　traced　his　hard　cheeks；　his　wonderful　blue　eyes；　his　strong　nose；　his　firm　lips；　his　ears。　She　bed　that　silky　black　hair　into　place　with　her　fingers；　adjusted　the　braided　leather　band　that　held　it。　Her　tongue　seemed　to　have　a　life　of　its　own；　too。　〃Oh；　Lan；〃　she　murmured。　〃You　really　are　here。〃　Somebody　giggled。　Not　her　…　Nynaeve　al'Meara　did　not　giggle　…　but　somebody　did。　〃It　isn't　a　dream。　Oh；　Light；　you're　here。　How？〃
　　　〃A　servant　at　the　Tarasin　Palace　told　me　you'd　gone　to　the　river；　and　a　fellow　at　the　landing　said　what　boat　you　had　taken。　If　Mandarb　hadn't　lost　a　shoe；　I　would　have　been　here　yesterday。〃
　　　〃I　don't　care。　You're　here　now。　You're　here。〃　She　did　not　giggle。
　　　〃Maybe　she　is　Aes　Sedai；〃　one　of　the　boatmen　murmured；　no