rj.acrownofswords-第138部分

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　with　what　obviously　would　not　work。　On　the　other　hand；　she　was　snooty　to　the　bone　however　she　tried。　And　the　other　women　were　watching。　〃Mat；　you　know　we　cannot　leave　until　we　have　used　the　Bowl。〃　That　haughty　chin　remained　high；　and　her　tone　was　at　best　halfway　between　explaining　and　telling。　〃It　might　require　days　for　us　to　be　sure　of　how　to　use　it；　perhaps　even　half　a　week　or　more；　and　we　might　as　well　finish　Carridin　if　we　can　in　that　time。〃　Such　a　crackle　entered　her　voice　on　the　Whitecloak's　name　that　you　might　have　thought　she　bore　the　man　a　personal　grudge；　but　something　else　leaped　out　and　clamped　a　fist　on　his　thoughts。
　　　〃Half　a　week！〃　Feeling　strangled；　he　put　a　finger　behind　the　scarf　knotted　around　his　neck　and　tugged　to　ease　it。　Tylin　had　used　that　length　of　black　silk　to　tie　his　hands　last　night　before　he　knew　what　she　was　doing。　Half　a　week。　Or　more！　Despite　his　best　efforts；　his　voice　became　a　touch　frantic。　〃Elayne；　surely　you　can　use　the　Bowl　anywhere。　It　doesn't　have　to　be　here。　Egwene　must　want　you　back　as　soon　as　possible；　she　can　use　a　friend　or　two；　I'll　wager。〃　By　the　last　he　had　seen；　she　could　use　a　few　hundred。　Maybe　once　he　got　these　women　back；　Egwene　would　be　ready　to　give　up　that　nonsense　about　being　Amyrlin　and　let　him　take　her　to　Rand　along　with　Elayne　and　Nynaeve　and　Aviendha。　〃And　what　about　Rand；　Elayne？　Caemlyn。　The　Lion　Throne。　Blood　and　ashes；　you　know　you　want　to　reach　Caemlyn　quick　as　you　can　so　Rand　can　give　you　the　Lion　Throne。〃　For　some　reason；　her　face　grew　darker　almost　by　the　word；　and　her　eyes　flashed。　He　would　have　said　she　was　indignant；　except　of　course　that　she　had　no　cause。
　　　She　opened　her　mouth　angrily　to　argue　as　soon　as　he　finished；　and　he　set　himself；　ready　to　list　her　promises　and　to　the　Pit　of　Doom　with　what　that　did　to　her　in　the　eyes　of　Reanne　and　the　rest。　By　their　faces；　they　would　have　snubbed　him　short　already　in　her　place。
　　　Before　anyone　could　say　anything；　though；　a　round　graying　woman　in　House　Mitsobar　livery　was　curtsying；　first　to　Elayne；　then　to　the　women　wearing　red　belts；　and　finally　to　him。　〃Queen　Tylin　sends　this；　Master　Cauthon；〃　Laren　said；　holding　out　a　basket　with　a　striped　cloth　over　the　contents　and　small　red　flowers　woven　around　the　handle。　〃You　did　not　breakfast；　and　you　must　maintain　your　strength。〃
　　　Mat's　cheeks　warmed。　The　woman　merely　looked　at　him；　but　she　had　seen　considerably　more　of　him　than　when　she　first　showed　him　into　Tylin's　presence。　Considerably　more。　She　had　brought　supper　on　a　tray　last　night；　while　he　tried　to　hide　under　the　silk　bedsheet。　He　did　not　understand　it。　These　women　had　him　jumping　about　and　blushing　like　a　girl。　He　just　could　not　understand。
　　　〃Are　you　sure　you　wouldn't　rather　remain　here？〃　Elayne　asked。　〃I'm　sure　Tylin　would　enjoy　your　pany　for　breakfast。　The　Queen　said　she　finds　you　wonderfully　entertaining　and　courteously　pliant；〃　she　added　in　a　doubtful　tone。
　　　Mat　fled　for　the　coaches　with　the　basket　in　one　hand　and　his　ashandarei　in　the　other。
　　　〃Are　all　northern　men　so　shy？〃　Laren　said。
　　　He　risked　a　glance　over　his　shoulder　without　stopping；　and　heaved　a　sigh　of　relief。　The　serving　woman　was　already　gathering　her　skirts；　turning　to　walk　though　the　screen　of　plants；　and　Elayne　was　motioning　Reanne　and　the　Wise　Women　into　a　circle　close　around　her。　Even　so；　he　shivered。　Women　were　going　to　be　the　death　of　him　yet。
　　　Rounding　the　nearest　coach；　he　nearly　dropped　the　basket　at　the　sight　of　Beslan　seated　on　the　coach　step；　sunlight　gleaming　along　the　narrow　blade　of　his　sword　as　he　examined　the　edge。　〃What　are　you　doing　here？〃　Mat　exclaimed。
　　　Beslan　slid　the　sword　into　its　sheath；　a　grin　splitting　his　face。　〃ing　with　you　to　the　Rahad。　I　suspect　you'll　find　more　fun　for　us。〃
　　　〃There　had　better　be　some　fun；〃　Nalesean　yawned　into　his　hand。　〃I　didn't　get　very　much　sleep　last　night；　and　now　you　drag　me　off　when　there　are　Sea　Folk　women　about。〃　Vanin　sat　up　on　his　barrel；　looked　around；　found　nothing　moving；　and　settled　himself　back　again　with　his　eyes　shut。
　　　〃There'll　be　no　fun　if　I　can　help　it；〃　Mat　muttered。　Nalesean　had　not　gotten　much　sleep？　Hah！　The　whole　lot　of　them　had　been　out　enjoying　themselves　at　the　festival。　Not　that　he　had　not　enjoyed　himself　in　patches；　but　only　when　he　could　forget　he　was　with　a　woman　who　thought　he　was　some　sort　of　bloody　doll。　〃What　Sea　Folk　women？〃
　　　〃When　Nynaeve　Sedai　returned　last　night；　she　brought　a　dozen　or　more；　Mat。〃　Beslan　blew　out　his　breath；　and　his　hands　made　swaying　motions。　〃The　way　they　move；　Mat。。。　〃
　　　Mat　shook　his　head。　He　was　not　thinking　clearly；　Tylin　was　scrambling　his　brains。　Nynaeve　and　Elayne　had　told　him　about　the　Windfinders；　reluctantly　and　in　sworn　secrecy；　after　trying　to　hold　back　even　where　Nynaeve　wanted　to　go；　much　less　why。　And　not　a　single　blush　at　the　effort；　either。　〃Women　keep　promises　in　their　own　way；〃　so　the　saying　went。　e　to　think　of　it；　Lawtin　and　Belvyn　were　not　with　the　rest　of　the　Redarms。　Maybe　Nynaeve　thought　to　make　up　for　the　other　by　keeping　them　with　her　now。　〃。。。　In　their　own　way。〃　But　if　she　had　the　Windfinders　already　in　the　palace；　surely　it　would　not　take　half　a　week　to　use　the　Bowl。　Light；　please　not！
　　　As　if　thinking　of　her　had　been　a　summons；　Nynaeve　came　strolling　through　the　screen　of　plants　into　the　stable…yard。　Mat's　jaw　dropped。　The　tall　man　in　a　dark　green　coat　on　her　arm　was　Lan！　Or　rather；　she　was　on　his；　clinging　to　it　with　both　hands；　smiling　up　at　him。　With　any　other　woman；　Mat　would　have　said　she　was　moon…eyed　and　dreaming；　but　this　was　Nynaeve。
　　　She　gave　a　start　once　she　realized　where　she　was；　and　took　a　hasty　step　to　one　side；　though　she　still　held　on　to　Lan's　hand　for　a　moment。　Her　choice　of　dresses　was　no　better　than　Elayne's；　all　blue　silk　and　green　embroidery；　cut　low　enough　to　show　a　heavy　gold　ring　that　would　have　rattled　on　her　two　thumbs　together；　dangling　into　her　cleavage　on　a　thin　gold　chain。　The　wide　hat　she　carried　by　its　ribbons　was　trimmed　with　blue　plumes；　her　dustcloak　green　linen　embroidered　in　blue。　She　and　Elayne　made　the　other　women　drab　by　parison　in　their　woolens。
　　　In　any　case；　whether　or　not　she　had　been　calf…eyes　a　moment　before；　she　was　all　herself　now；　shifting　her　braid　around。　〃Join　the　other　men　now；　Lan；〃　she　said　peremptorily；　〃and　we　can　go。　The　last　four　coaches　are　for　the　men。〃
　　　〃As　you　say；〃　Lan　replied；　bowing　with　a　hand　on　his　sword　hilt。
　　　She　watched　him　stride　toward　Mat　with　an　expression　of　wonder；　probably　unable　to　believe　he　was　obeying　so　meekly；　then　gave　herself　a　shake　and　recovered　her　bristly　self　again。　Gathering　up　Elayne　and　the　other　women；　she　herded　them　toward　the　first　two　coaches　like　a　woman　shooing　geese。　By　the　way　she　shouted　for　someone　to　open　the　stableyard　gates；　no　one　would　have　known　she　had　been　the　one　delaying　their　departure。　She　shouted　at　the　drivers；　too；　setting　them　to　snatching　up　their　reins　and　flourishing　their　long　whips；　it　was　a　marvel　they　waited　for　anyone　to　climb　aboard。
　　　Scrambling　awkwardly　after　Lan　and　Nalesean　and　Beslan　into　the　third　coach；　Mat　propped　his　spear　across　the　door　and　sat　down　hard　with　the　basket　on　his　lap　as　the　coach　lurched　forward。　〃Where　did　you　e　from；　Lan？〃　he　burst　out　as　soon　as　introductions　were　out　of　the　way。　〃You're　the　last　man　I　expected　to　see。　Where　have　you　been？　Light；　I　thought　you　were　dead。　I　know　Rand's　afraid　you　are。　And　letting　Nynaeve　order　you　around。　Why　in　the　Light　would　you　do　that？〃
　　　The　stone…faced　Warder　seemed　to　consider　which　question　to　answer。　〃Nynaeve　and　I　were　married　last　night　by　the　Mistress　of　the　Ships；〃　he　said　finally。　〃The　Atha'an　Miere　have　several。。。　unusual。。。　marriage　customs。　There　were　surprises　for　both　of　us。〃　A　small　smile　touched　his　mouth；　if　nothing　else。　He　shrugged　slightly；　seemingly　that　was　all　the　answer　he　intended　to　give。
　　　〃The　blessing　of　the　Light　be　upon　you　and　your　bride；〃　Beslan　murmured　politely　with　as　much　of　a　bow　as　the　confines　of　the　coach　would　allow；　and　Nalesean　mumbled　something；　though　it　was　plain　from　his　expression　that　he　thought　Lan　must　be　mad。　Nalesean　had　had　a　good　bit　of　Nynaeve's　pany。
　　　Mat　just　sat　there　swaying　with　the　coach's　motion　and　staring。　Nynaeve　married？　Lan　married　to　Nynaeve？　The　man　was　mad。　No　wonder　his　eyes　looked　so　bleak。　Mat　would　as　soon　have　stuffed　a　rabid　fox　down　his　own　shirt。　Only　a　fool　married；　and　only　a　madman　would　marry　Nynaeve。
　　　If　Lan　noticed　that　not　everyone　was　overjoyed；　he　gave　no　sign。　Except　for　his　eyes；　he　looked　no　different　than　Mat　remembered。　Maybe　a　little　harder；　if　that　was　possible。　〃There　is　something　more　important；〃　Lan　said。　〃Nynaeve　doesn't　want　you　to　know；　Mat；　but　you　need　to　hear　it。　Your　two　men　are　dead；　killed　by　Moghedien。　I　am　sorry；　but　if　it　is　any　consolation；　they　truly　were　dead　before　they　knew。　Nynaeve　thinks　Moghedien　must　be　gone；　or　she'd　have　tried　again；　but　I　am　not　so　certain。　It　seems　she　has　a　personal　enmity　toward　Nynaeve；　although　Nynaeve　managed　to　avoid　telling　me　why。〃　Again　the　smile；　Lan　seemed　unaware　of　it。　〃Not　all　of　it；　at　least；　and　it　does　not　matter。　Best　you　know　what　might　be　facing　us　beyond　the　river；　though。〃
　　　〃Moghedien；〃　Beslan　breathed；　eyes　shining。　The　man　was　probably　seeing　fun。
　　　〃Moghedien；〃　Nalesean　breathed；　but　in　his　case；　it　was　more　of　a　groan；　and　he　gave　his　pointed　beard　a　fitful　jerk。
　　　〃Those　bloody　flaming　women；〃　Mat　muttered。
　　　〃I　hope　you　don't　include　my　wife；〃　Lan　said　coldly；　one　hand　gripping　the　hilt　of　his　sword；　and　Mat　quickly　raised　his　own　hands。
　　　〃Of　course　not。　Just　Elayne　and。。。　and　the　Kin。〃
　　　After　a　moment；　Lan　nodded；　and　Mat　breathed　a　small　sigh　of　relief。　It　would　be　just　like　Nynaeve　to　get　him　killed　by　her　husband　…　her　husband！　…　when　sure　as　bread　was　brown；　she　would　have　hidden　the　fact　that　one　of　the　Forsaken　might　be　in　the　city。　Even　Moghedien　did　not　really　frighten　him；　not　so　long　as　he　had　the　foxhead　around　his　neck；　but　the　medallion　could　not　protect　Nalesean　or　any　of　the　rest。　No　doubt　Nynaeve　thought　she　and　Elayne　would　do　that。　They　let　him　bring　along　the　Redarms；　all　the　wh