rj.acrownofswords-第85部分

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ondered　how　much　of　Sammael's　vaunted　bravery　was　really　stupidity　and　blindness。　But　the　man　did　hold　saidin；　perhaps　he　was　not　pletely　unaware　of　his　danger。
　　　The　watcher　followed　and　listened。　They　had　no　idea。　The　True　Power；　drawn　directly　from　the　Great　Lord；　could　neither　be　seen　nor　detected　except　by　who　wielded　it。　Black　flecks　floated　across　his　vision。　There　was　a　price；　to　be　sure；　one　that　grew　with　each　use；　but　he　had　always　been　willing　to　pay　the　price　when　it　was　necessary。　Being　filled　with　the　True　Power　was　almost　like　kneeling　beneath　Shayol　Ghul；　basking　in　the　Great　Lord's　glory。　The　glory　was　worth　the　pain。
　　　〃Of　course　I　had　to　have　you　with　me；〃　Sammael　growled；　stumbling　over　a　dead　vine。　He　had　never　really　been　at　home　away　from　the　cities。　〃You　answered　a　hundred　questions　for　them　just　being　there。　I　can　hardly　believe　that　silly　girl　herself　actually　suggested　what　I　wanted。〃　He　barked　a　laugh。　〃Perhaps　I'm　ta'veren　myself。〃
　　　A　branch　that　partially　blocked　Graendal's　path　flexed　away　until　it　snapped　with　a　sharp　crack。　For　a　moment　it　hung　in　the　air　as　if　she　intended　to　strike　her　panion。　〃That　silly　girl　will　cut　out　your　heart　and　eat　it；　given　half　a　chance。〃　The　branch　flew　aside。　〃I　have　a　few　questions　of　my　own。　I　never　thought　you　would　keep　your　truce　with　al'Thor　any　longer　than　you　must；　but　this。。。？〃
　　　The　watcher's　eyebrows　rose。　A　truce？　A　claim　as　risky　as　it　was　false；　by　all　evidence。
　　　〃I　didn't　arrange　his　kidnapping。〃　Sammael　gave　her　what　he　probably　thought　was　a　wry　look；　his　scar　made　it　more　a　snarl。　〃Mesaana　had　a　hand　in　it；　though。　Maybe　Demandred　and　Semirhage　as　well；　despite　how　it　ended；　but　Mesaana　certainly。　Perhaps　you　ought　to　reconsider　what　you　think　the　Great　Lord　means　about　leaving　al'Thor　unharmed。〃
　　　Graendal　considered　that；　so　much　so　that　she　tripped。　Sammael　caught　her　by　the　arm；　keeping　her　on　her　feet；　but　as　soon　as　she　regained　her　balance；　she　jerked　free。　Interesting；　even　given　what　had　happened　back　in　that　clearing。　Graendal's　real　interest　was　always　the　most　beautiful　plucked　from　among　the　most　powerful；　but　she　would　have　flirted；　just　to　pass　an　hour；　with　a　man　she　intended　to　kill　or　one　who　wanted　to　kill　her。　The　only　men　she　never　flirted　with　were　those　of　the　Chosen　who　stood　above　her　for　a　time。　She　never　accepted　being　the　lesser　of　any　pair。
　　　〃Then　why　continue　with　them？〃　Her　voice　dripped　molten　lava；　although　normally　she　had　exquisite　control　over　her　emotions。　〃Al'Thor　in　Mesaana's　hands　is　one　thing；　al'Thor　in　this　savage's　is　something　else。　Not　that　she'll　have　much　chance　at　him　if　you　really　intend　sending　them　off　to　loot。　Traveling　boxes？　What　is　your　game　there？　Do　they　hold　captives？　If　you　think　I　will　teach　them　pulsion；　erase　it　from　your　mind。　One　of　those　women　was　not　negligible。　I　will　not　risk　strength　and　skill　residing　together；　in　her；　or　in　someone　she　teaches。　Or　do　you　have　a　binder　hidden　away　with　your　other　toys？　For　that　matter；　where　were　you　earlier？　I　do　not　like　having　to　wait！〃
　　　Sammael　stopped；　glancing　behind　them。　The　watcher　stood　very　still。　Swathed　in　fancloth　except　for　his　eyes；　he　had　no　worry　that　he　would　be　seen。　Over　the　years　he　had　learned　expertise　in　many　areas　Sammael　scorned。　In　some　he　favored；　too。
　　　The　gateway　opening　suddenly；　slicing　away　half　of　a　tree；　made　Graendal　jump。　The　split　trunk　leaned　drunkenly。　Now　she　also　knew　Sammael　held　to　the　Source。
　　　〃Did　you　think　I　was　telling　them　the　truth？〃　Sammael　said　mockingly。　〃Small　increases　in　chaos　are　as　important　as　large。　They　will　go　where　I　send　them；　do　as　I　wish；　and　learn　to　be　satisfied　with　what　I　give　them。　As　will　you；　Maisia。〃
　　　Graendal　let　her　Illusion　fade　and　stood　golden…haired　as　he；　as　fair　as　she　had　been　dark。　〃If　you　call　me　that　again；　I　will　kill　you。〃　Her　voice　held　even　less　expression　than　her　face。　She　meant　it。　The　watcher　tensed。　If　she　tried；　one　of　the　two　would　die。　Should　he　interfere？　Black　flecks　sped　across　his　eyes；　faster；　faster。
　　　Sammael　met　her　stare　with　one　just　as　hard。　〃Remember　who　will　be　Nae'blis；　Graendal；〃　he　said；　and　stepped　through　his　gateway。
　　　For　a　moment　she　stood　looking　at　the　opening。　A　vertical　silver　slash　appeared　off　to　one　side；　but　before　her　gateway　began　to　align；　she　let　go　the　weave；　slowly；　the　streak　shrinking　to　a　point　before　winking　out。　The　prickling　vanished　from　the　watcher's　skin　as　she　released　saidar　as　well。　With　a　fixed　face；　she　followed　Sammael；　and　his　gateway　closed　behind　her。
　　　The　watcher　smiled　crookedly　behind　his　fancloth　skulker's　mask。　Nae'blis。　That　explained　what　had　brought　Graendal　to　heel；　what　had　stayed　her　from　killing　Sammael。　Even　she　would　be　blinded　by　that。　An　even　greater　risk　for　Sammael　than　claiming　truce　with　Lews　Therin；　though。　Unless；　of　course；　it　was　true。　The　Great　Lord　delighted　in　setting　his　servants　one　against　another；　to　see　who　was　stronger。　Only　the　strongest　could　stand　near　his　glory。　But　today's　truth　need　not　be　tomorrow's。　The　watcher　had　seen　truth　change　a　hundred　times　between　a　single　sunrise　and　sunset。　More　than　once　he　had　changed　it　himself。　He　considered　going　back　and　killing　the　seven　women　in　the　clearing。　They　would　die　easily；　he　doubted　they　knew　how　to　form　a　true　circle。　The　black　flecks　filled　his　eyes；　a　horizontal　blizzard。　No；　he　would　let　that　run　its　course。　For　now。
　　　To　his　ears；　the　world　screamed　as　he　used　the　True　Power　to　rip　a　small　hole　and　step　outside　the　Pattern。　Sammael　did　not　know　how　truly　he　spoke。　Small　increases　in　chaos　could　be　every　bit　as　important　as　large。
　　　
　　　
Chapter　21　
（Dice）　
Swovan　Night　
　　　
　　　Night　came　slowly　over　Ebou　Dar；　the　glow　of　the　white　buildings　resisting　darkness。　Small　knots　and　bunches　of　Swovan　Night　revelers　with　little　sprigs　of　evergreen　in　their　hair　danced　in　the　streets　beneath　a　bright　three…quarter　moon；　few　carrying　so　much　as　a　lantern　as　they　gamboled　to　the　music　of　flutes　and　drums　and　horns　that　drifted　from　inns　and　palaces；　dancing　their　way　from　one　set　of　festivities　to　another；　but　for　the　most　part　the　streets　lay　empty。　A　distant　dog　barked；　and　another；　closer；　answered　furiously　until　it　suddenly　yelped　and　fell　silent。
　　　Balanced　on　his　toes；　Mat　listened；　eyes　searching　the　moonshadows。　Only　a　cat　moved；　slinking　along　the　street。　The　slap　of　running　bare　feet　faded。　The　owner　of　one　pair　should　be　staggering；　and　the　other　bleeding。　As　he　bent；　his　foot　kicked　a　club　as　long　as　his　arm　on　the　paving　stones；　heavy　brass　studs　shone　in　the　moonlight。　That　would　have　broken　his　skull　for　sure。　Shaking　his　head；　he　wiped　his　knife　on　the　ragged　coat　worn　by　the　man　at　his　feet。　Open　eyes　stared　at　the　night　sky　from　a　dirty；　creased　face。　A　beggar；　by　the　look　and　smell　of　him。　Mat　had　not　heard　of　beggars　attacking　people；　but　maybe　times　were　harder　than　he　thought。　A　large　jute　sack　lay　near　one　outstretched　hand。　The　fellows　certainly　had　been　optimistic　about　what　they　would　find　in　his　pockets。　The　thing　could　have　covered　him　from　head　to　knees。
　　　To　the　north；　above　the　city；　light　suddenly　burst　in　the　sky　with　a　hollow　boom　as　glittering　streaks　of　green　expanded　in　a　ball；　and　then　another　eruption　showered　red　sparkles　through　die　first；　then　a　blue；　and　a　yellow。　Illuminators'　nightflowers；　not　as　spectacular　as　they　would　have　been　in　a　moonless；　cloudy　sky；　yet　still　they　took　his　breath。　He　could　watch　fireworks　till　he　fell　over　from　hunger。　Nalesean　had　spoken　of　an　Illuminator　…　Light；　was　that　only　this　morning？　…　but　no　more　nightflowers　came。　When　Illuminators　made　the　sky　bloom；　as　they　said；　they　planted　more　than　four　flowers。　Plainly　someone　with　coin　had　made　a　purchase　for　Swovan　Night。　He　wished　he　knew　who。　An　Illuminator　who　would　sell　nightflowers　would　sell　more　than　that。
　　　Slipping　the　knife　back　up　his　sleeve；　he　gathered　his　hat　from　the　pavement　and　walked　away　hurriedly；　his　boots　echoing；　a　sound　empty　as　the　street。　Most　shuttered　windows　here　showed　not　a　glimmer　of　light。　A　better　place　for　murder　probably　could　not　be　found　in　the　city。　The　entire　encounter　with　the　three　beggars　had　lasted　only　a　minute　or　two　and　had　been　seen　by　no　one。　In　this　city；　you　could　find　three　or　four　fights　in　a　day　if　you　were　not　careful；　but　the　odds　of　facing　two　sets　of　robbers　in　one　day　seemed　about　as　great　as　the　odds　of　the　Civil　Guard　refusing　a　bribe。　What　was　happening　to　his　luck？　If　only　those　bloody　dice　would　stop　rolling　in　his　head。　He　did　not　run；　but　he　did　not　dawdle　either；　one　hand　on　a　hilt　beneath　his　coat　and　an　eye　open　for　anyone　moving　in　the　shadows。　He　saw　nothing　but　a　few　clumps　of　people　cavorting　along　the　street；　though。
　　　In　the　mon　room　of　The　Wandering　Woman；　the　tables　had　been　cleared　away　except　for　a　few　near　the　walls。　The　flutists　and　the　drummer　made　shrill　music　for　four　laughing　lines　of　people　doing　what　appeared　to　be　half　pattern…dance　and　half　jig。　Watching；　he　copied　a　step。　Outland　merchants　in　fine　woolens　leaped　right　along　with　locals　in　brocaded　silk　vests　or　those　useless　coats　slung　on　their　shoulders。　He　marked　out　two　of　the　merchants　for　the　way　they　moved；　one　slender　and　one　not；　yet　both　with　a　light　grace；　and　several　local　women　wearing　their　best；　the　deep　necklines　outlined　by　a　little　lace　or　a　great　deal　of　embroidery；　but　none　in　silk。　Not　that　he　would　refuse　to　dance　with　a　woman　in　silk；　of　course　…　he　had　never　turned　down　a　dance　with　any　woman　of　any　age　or　station　…　but　the　rich　were　in　the　palaces　tonight；　or　the　homes　of　the　wealthier　merchants　and　moneylenders。　Those　folk　near　the　walls；　catching　their　breath　for　the　next　dance；　had　their　faces　buried　in　mugs　often　as　not；　or　were　snatching　fresh　mugs　from　trays　carried　by　scurrying　serving　women。　Mistress　Anan　likely　would　sell　as　much　wine　tonight　as　in　an　ordinary　week。　Ale；　too；　the　local　folk　must　have　no　taste　to　their　tongues。
　　　Trying　another　step　of　the　dance；　he　caught　Caira　as　she　tried　to　hurry　by　with　a　tray；　pitching　his　voice　loud　above　the　music　to　ask　a　few　questions　and　finishing　with　an　order　fo