rj.acrownofswords-第147部分

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eing　lumped　in　with　Nynaeve　and　Elayne；　but　he　did　not　care　right　then。　He　addressed　Lan　and　Birgitte。　〃Keep　them　safe　until　I　can　reach　you。　Keep　all　of　them　safe。〃
　　　Startlingly；　Aviendha　said；　〃We　will。　I　promise。〃　She　fingered　the　hilt　of　her　knife。　Apparently　she　did　not　understand　she　was　one　of　those　to　be　kept　safe。
　　　Nynaeve　and　Elayne　did。　Nynaeve's　sudden　glare　tried　to　bore　a　hole　through　his　skull；　he　expected　her　to　yank　on　her　braid；　but　strangely；　her　hand　only　fluttered　toward　it　before　being　put　firmly　to　her　side。　Elayne　contented　herself　with　raising　her　chin；　those　big　blue　eyes　frosty。　No　dimple　here。
　　　Lan　and　Birgitte　understood；　too。
　　　〃Nynaeve　is　my　life；〃　Lan　said　simply；　putting　a　hand　on　her　shoulder。　The　odd　thing　was；　she　suddenly　looked　very　sad；　and　then　just　as　suddenly；　her　jaw　set　as　though　she　was　preparing　to　walk　through　a　stone　wall　and　make　a　large　hole。
　　　Birgitte　gave　Elayne　a　fond　look；　but　it　was　to　Mat　she　spoke。　〃I　will；〃　she　said。　〃Honor's　truth。〃
　　　Mat　tugged　at　his　coat　unfortably。　He　still　was　not　sure　how　much　he　had　told　her　while　drunk。　Light；　but　the　woman　could　soak　it　up　like　dry　sand。　Even　so；　he　gave　the　proper　response　for　a　Barashandan　lord；　accepting　her　pledge。　〃The　honor　of　blood；　the　truth　of　blood。〃　Birgitte　nodded；　and　from　the　startled　looks　he　received　from　Nynaeve　and　Elayne；　she　still　kept　his　secrets　close。　Light；　if　any　Aes　Sedai　ever　found　out　about　those　memories；　they　might　as　well　know　he　had　blown　the　Horn　as　well；　foxhead　or　no　foxhead；　they　would　stretch　him　out　till　they　dug　out　every　last　why　and　how。
　　　As　he　was　turning　to　go；　Nynaeve　caught　his　sleeve。　〃Remember　the　storm；　Mat。　It's　going　to　break　soon；　I　know　it。　You　take　care　of　yourself；　Mat　Cauthon。　Do　you　hear　me？　Tylin　has　directions　for　the　farm；　when　you　get　back　with　Olver。〃
　　　Nodding；　he　made　his　escape；　the　dice　in　his　head　like　echoes　of　his　running　boots。　Was　it　during　the　search　that　he　was　supposed　to　take　care　of　himself；　or　while　getting　the　directions　from　Tylin？　Nynaeve　and　her　Listening　to　the　Wind。　Did　she　think　a　little　rain　was　going　to　melt　him？　e　to　think；　once　they　used　the　Bowl　of　the　Winds；　it　would　rain　again。　It　seemed　years　since　rain　last　fell。　Something　tugged　at　his　thoughts；　something　about　the　weather；　and　Elayne；　which　made　no　sense；　but　he　shrugged　it　off。　One　thing　at　a　time；　and　the　one　thing　right　now　was　Olver。
　　　The　men　were　all　waiting　in　the　Redarms'　long　room　near　the　stables；　everyone　on　their　feet　except　Vanin；　who　lay　sprawled　on　one　of　the　beds　with　his　fingers　laced　over　his　belly。　Vanin　said　a　man　had　to　take　rest　when　he　could。　He　swung　his　boots　over　and　sat　up　when　Mat　entered；　though。　He　cared　about　Olver　as　much　as　any　of　the　others；　Mat　was　just　afraid　the　man　was　going　to　start　teaching　him　how　to　steal　horses　and　poach　pheasants。　Seven　sets　of　eyes　focused　on　Mat　intently。
　　　〃Riselle　said　Olver's　wearing　his　red　coat；〃　he　told　them。　〃He　gives　them　away；　sometimes；　but　any　urchin　you　see　in　a　good　red　coat　probably　knows　where　Olver　last　was。　Everybody　goes　in　a　different　direction。　Make　loops　out　from　the　Mol　Hara；　and　try　to　be　back　after　about　an　hour。　Wait　till　everybody　is　back　before　you　go　out　again。　That　way；　if　somebody　finds　him；　the　rest　of　us　won't　still　be　looking　tomorrow。　Does　everybody　understand？〃　They　nodded。
　　　Sometimes　it　amazed　him。　Lanky　Thom　with　his　white　hair　and　mustaches；　who　had　been　a　Queen's　lover　once；　and　more　willingly　than　himself；　not　to　mention　more　than　a　lover；　if　you　believed　half　he　said。　Square…jawed　Harnan　with　that　tattoo　on　his　cheek　and　more　elsewhere；　who　had　been　a　soldier　all　his　life。　Juilin　with　his　bamboo　staff　and　his　sword…breaker　on　his　hip；　who　thought　himself　as　good　as　any　lord　even　if　the　idea　of　carrying　a　sword　himself　still　made　him　uneasy；　and　fat　Vanin；　who　made　Juilin　look　a　bootlicker　by　parison。　Skinny　Fergin；　and　Gorderan；　nearly　as　wide　in　the　shoulders　as　Perrin；　and　Metwyn；　whose　pale　Cairhienin　face　still　looked　like　a　boy's　despite　being　years　older　than　Mat。　Some　of　them　followed　Mat　Cauthon　because　they　thought　he　was　lucky；　because　his　luck　might　keep　them　alive　when　the　swords　were　out；　and　some　for　reasons　he　was　not　really　sure　of；　but　they　followed。　Not　even　Thom　had　ever　more　than　protested　an　order　of　his。　Maybe　Renaile　had　been　more　than　luck。　Maybe　his　being　ta'veren　did　more　than　dump　him　in　the…middle　of　trouble。　Suddenly　he　felt。。。　responsible。。。　for　these　men。　It　was　an　unfortable　feeling。　Mat　Cauthon　and　responsibility　did　not　go　together。　It　was　unnatural。
　　　〃Take　care　of　yourselves；　and　look　sharp；〃　he　said。　〃You　know　what's　out　there。　There's　a　storm　ing。〃　Now　why　had　he　said　that？　〃Move。　We're　wasting　light。〃
　　　The　wind　still　blew　strongly；　sweeping　dust　across　the　Mol　Hara　Square　with　its　statue　of　a　long…dead　queen　posing　above　the　fountain；　but　there　was　no　other　sign　of　a　storm。　Nariene　had　been　noted　for　her　honesty；　but　not　enough　to　have　been　depicted　pletely　bare…chested。　The　afternoon　sun　burned　high　in　a　sky　without　a　cloud；　but　people　rushed　through　the　square　as　quickly　as　they　had　in　the　morning　cool。　That　was　gone；　wind　or　no；　down　here　on　the　ground。　The　paving　stones　seemed　a　griddle　under　his　boots。
　　　Glaring　across　the　square　at　The　Wandering　Woman；　Mat　headed　toward　the　river。　Olver　had　not　gone　off　with　the　street　urchins　half　as　often　while　they　were　staying　at　the　inn；　he　had　been　too　content　ogling　the　serving　girls　and　Setalle　Anan's　daughters。　So　much　for　the　dice　telling　him　he　had　to　move　into　the　palace。　Anything　he　had　done　since　leaving　…　anything　he　wanted　to　do；　he　amended；　thinking　of　Tylin　and　her　eyes；　and　her　hands　…　any　of　it　could　have　been　done　just　as　well　from　there。　Those　dice　spun　now；　and　he　wished　they　would　just　go　away。
　　　He　tried　to　move　quickly；　dodging　impatiently　around　trundling　carts　and　wagons；　cursing　at　lacquered　sedan　chairs　and　coaches　that　nearly　ran　him　down；　eyes　darting　in　search　of　a　red　coat　close　to　the　ground；　but　the　bustle　in　the　streets　slowed　him　to　a　meander。　Which　was　just　as　well；　in　truth。　No　point　dashing　by　the　boy　without　seeing　him。　Wishing　he　had　brought　Pips　out　of　the　palace　stables；　he　frowned　at　the　people　streaming　past；　a　man　on　horseback　could　have　moved　no　faster　in　the　throng；　but　up　in　the　saddle；　he　could　have　seen　farther。　Then　again；　asking　questions　from　a　saddle　would　have　been　awkward；　not　many　folk　actually　rode　inside　the　city；　and　some　people　had　a　tendency　to　shy　away　from　anyone　on　a　horse。
　　　Always　the　same　question。　The　first　time　he　asked　was　at　a　bridge　just　below　the　Mol　Hara；　of　a　fellow　selling　honey…baked　apples　from　a　tray　hanging　from　a　strap　around　his　neck。　〃Have　you　seen　a　boy；　about　so　high；　in　a　red　coat？〃　Olver　liked　sweets。
　　　〃Boy；　my　Lord？〃　the　fellow　said；　sucking　his　few　remaining　teeth。　〃Seen　a　thousand　boys。　Don't　remember　no　coat；　though。　Would　my　Lord　like　one　apple；　or　two？〃　He　scooped　up　two　with　bony　fingers　and　pushed　them　at　Mat；　the　way　they　gave　under　his　fingers；　they　were　softer　than　any　baking　could　account　for。　〃Did　my　Lord　hear　about　the　riot？〃
　　　〃No；〃　Mat　said　sourly；　and　pushed　on。　At　the　other　end　of　the　bridge；　he　stopped　a　plump　woman　with　a　tray　of　ribbons。　Ribbons　held　no　fascination　for　Olver；　but　her　red　petticoats　flashed　beneath　a　skirt　sewn　up　nearly　to　her　left　hip；　and　the　cut　of　her　bodice　revealed　rounded　cleavage　to　equal　Riselle's。　〃Have　you　seen　a　boy。。。？〃
　　　He　heard　about　the　riot　from　her；　too；　and　from　half　the　people　he　asked。　That　rumor；　he　suspected　had　begun　with　events　at　a　certain　house　in　the　Rahad　that　very　morning。　A　wagon　driver　with　her　long　whip　coiled　around　her　neck　even　told　him　the　riot　had　been　across　the　river；　once　she　allowed　as　how　she　never　noticed　boys　unless　they　ran　under　her　mules。　A　square…faced　man　who　sold　honeyb　…　incredibly　dry…looking　honeyb　…　said　the　riot　had　been　down　near　the　light　tower　at　the　end　of　the　Bay　Road；　on　the　eastern　side　of　the　mouth　of　the　bay；　which　was　about　as　likely　a　place　for　rioting　as　the　middle　of　the　bay　itself。　There　were　always　a　thousand　rumors　in　any　city；　if　you　listened；　and　he　was　forced　to　listen　to　snatches　of　all　of　them；　it　seemed。　One　of　the　most　remarkably　pretty　women　he　had　ever　seen；　standing　outside　a　tavern　…　Maylin　was　a　serving　girl　at　The　Old　Sheep；　but　her　only　task　seemed　to　be　standing　outside　to　attract　customers；　which　she　certainly　did　…　told　him　there　had　been　a　battle　that　morning；　in　the　Cordese　Hills　west　of　the　city；　she　thought。　Or　maybe　in　the　Rhannon　Hills；　across　the　bay。　Or　maybe。。。　Remarkably　pretty；　Maylin；　but　not　very　bright；　Olver　might　have　watched　her　for　hours；　so　long　as　she　never　opened　her　mouth。　But　she　could　not　remember　seeing　any　boy　in　a。。。　What　color　coat　had　he　said；　again？　He　heard　about　riots　and　battles；　he　heard　about　enough　strange　things　seen　in　the　sky　or　the　hills　to　populate　the　Blight。　He　heard　that　the　Dragon　Reborn　was　about　to　descend　on　the　city　with　thousands　of　men　who　could　channel；　that　the　Aiel　were　ing；　an　army　of　Aes　Sedai　…　no；　it　was　an　army　of　Whitecloaks；　Pedron　Niall　was　dead；　and　the　Children　intended　to　avenge　him；　though　why　in　Ebou　Dar　was　not　exactly　clear。　You　might　have　thought　the　city　would　be　hip…deep　in　panic　with　all　the　tales　floating　around；　but　the　fact　was；　even　those　who　told　a　tale　usually　only　half…believed　it。　So；　he　heard　all　sorts　of　nonsense；　but　not　a　word　about　any　boy　in　a　red　coat。
　　　A　few　streets　from　the　river；　he　began　hearing　thunder；　great　hollow　booms　that　seemed　to　roll　in　from　the　sea。　People　looked　up　curiously　at　the　cloudless　sky；　scratched　their　heads；　and　went　on　about　their　business。　So　did　he；　questioning　every　seller　of　sweets　or　fruit　he　saw；　and　every　pretty　woman　afoot。　All　to　no　avail。　Reaching　the　long　stone　quay　that　ran　the　whole　length　of　the　river　side　of　the　city；　he　paused；　studying　the　gray　docks　stretching　out　into　the　river　and　the　ships　tied　to　them。　The　wind　blew　strong；　heaving　vessels　at　their　mooring　lines；　grinding　them　against　the　stone　docks　despite　the　bags　stuffed　with　wool　hung　down　between　for　fenders。