rj.acrownofswords-第86部分

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　　　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　for　his　dinner；　gilded　fish；　a　tangy　dish　that　Mistress　Anan's　cook　prepared　to　perfection。　A　man　needed　his　strength　to　keep　up　in　the　dance。
　　　Caira　flashed　a　sultry　smile　at　a　fellow　in　a　yellow　vest　who　grabbed　a　mug　from　her　tray　and　dropped　his　coin　on　it；　but　for　once　she　had　no　smile　for　Mat。　in　fact；　she　managed　to　press　her　mouth　to　a　thin　line；　no　small　feat。　〃Your　little　rabbit；　am　I？〃　With　a　telling　sniff；　she　went　on　impatiently。　〃The　boy　is　tucked　into　his　bed；　where　he　should　be；　and　I　don't　know　where　Lord　Nalesean　is；　or　Harnan；　or　Master　Vanin；　or　anybody　else。　And　Cook　said　she　won't　fix　anything　but　soup　and　bread　for　those　as　are　drowning　their　tongues　in　wine。　Though　why　my　Lord　wants　gilded　fish　when　he　has　a　gilded　woman　waiting　in　his　room；　I'm　sure　I　couldn't　say。　If　my　Lord　will　excuse　me；　some　people　need　to　work　for　their　crust。〃　She　swooped　away；　proffering　her　tray　and　smiling　fit　to　split　her　face　at　every　man　in　sight。
　　　Mat　frowned　after　her。　A　gilded　woman？　In　his　room？　The　chest　of　gold　rested　now　in　a　small　hollow　beneath　the　kitchen　floor；　in　front　of　one　of　the　stoves；　but　the　dice　in　his　head　drummed　like　thunder　suddenly。
　　　The　sounds　of　merriment　faded　a　little　as　he　slowly　climbed　the　stairs。　In　front　of　his　door；　he　paused；　listening　to　the　dice。　Two　attempts　to　rob　him　so　far　today。　Twice　his　skull　could　have　been　broken。　He　was　sure　that　Darkfriend　had　not　seen　him；　and　no　one　could　call　her　gilded；　but。。。　He　fingered　a　hilt　under　his　coat；　then　took　his　hand　away　as　a　woman　flared　in　his　thoughts；　a　tall　woman　falling　with　the　hilt　of　a　knife　protruding　between　her　breasts。　His　knife。　Luck　would　just　have　to　be　with　him。　Sighing；　he　pushed　open　the　door。
　　　The　Hunter　that　Elayne　had　made　her　Warder　turned；　hefting　his　unstrung　Two　Rivers　bow；　her　golden　braid　drawn　over　her。　shoulder。　Her　blue　eyes　fastened　on　him　purposefully；　and　her　face　fixed　itself　in　determination。　She　looked　ready　to　drub　him　with　the　bow　if　she　did　not　get　what　she　wanted。
　　　〃If　this　is　about　Olver；〃　he　began；　and　suddenly　a　twist　of　memory　unfolded；　a　mist　thinned　over　one　day；　one　hour　in　his　life。
　　　There　was　no　hope；　with　Seanchan　to　the　west　and　Whitecloaks　to　the　east；　no　hope　and　only　one　chance；　so　he　raised　the　curled　Horn　and　blew；　not　really　knowing　what　to　expect。　The　sound　came　golden　as　the　Horn；　so　sweet　he　did　not　know　whether　to　laugh　or　cry。　It　echoed；　and　the　earth　and　heavens　seemed　to　sing。　While　that　one　pure　note　hung　in　the　air；　a　fog　began　to　rise；　appearing　from　nowhere；　thin　wisps；　thickening；　billowing　higher；　until　all　was　obscured　as　if　clouds　covered　the　land。　And　down　the　clouds　they　rode；　as　though　down　a　mountainside；　the　dead　heroes　of　legend；　bound　to　be　called　back　by　the　Horn　of　Valere。　Artur　Hawkwing　himself　led；　tall　and　hook…nosed；　and　behind　came　the　rest；　little　more　than　a　hundred。　So　few；　but　all　those　the　Wheel　would　spin　out　again　and　again　to　guide　the　Pattern；　to　make　legend　and　myth。　Mikel　of　the　Pure　Heart；　and　Shivan　the　Hunter　behind　his　black　mask。　He　was　said　to　herald　the　end　of　Ages；　the　destruction　of　what　had　been　and　the　birth　of　what　was　to　be；　he　and　his　sister　Calian；　called　the　Chooser；　who　rode　red…masked　at　his　side。　Amaresu；　with　the　Sword　of　the　Sun　glowing　in　her　hands；　and　Paedrig；　the　golden…tongued　peacemaker；　and　there；　carrying　the　silver　bow　with　which　she　never　missed。。。
　　　He　pushed　the　door　shut　trying　to　lean　against　it。　He　felt　dizzy；　dazed。　〃You　are　she。　Birgitte；　for　true。　Burn　my　bones　to　ash；　it's　impossible。　How？　How？〃
　　　The　woman　of　legend　gave　a　resigned　sigh　and　propped　his　bow　back　in　the　corner　next　to　his　spear。　〃I　was　ripped　out　untimely；　Hornsounder；　cast　out　by　Moghedien　to　die　and　saved　by　Elayne's　bonding。〃　She　spoke　slowly；　studying　him　as　if　to　be　sure　he　understood。　〃I　feared　you　might　remember　who　I　used　to　be。〃
　　　Still　feeling　hit　between　the　eyes；　he　flung　himself　scowling　into　the　armchair　beside　his　table。　Who　she　used　to　be；　indeed。　Fists　on　hips；　she　confronted　him　challengingly；　no　whit　different　from　the　Birgitte　he　had　seen　ride　out　of　the　sky。　Even　her　clothes　were　the　same；　though　this　short　coat　was　red　and　the　wide　trousers　yellow。　〃Elayne　and　Nynaeve　know　and　kept　it　from　me；　true？　I　weary　of　secrets；　Birgitte；　and　they　harbor　secrets　as　a　grain　barn　harbors　rats。　They've　bee　Aes　Sedai；　eyes　and　hearts。　Even　Nynaeve　is　twice　a　stranger；　now。〃
　　　〃You　have　your　own　secrets。〃　Folding　her　arms　under　her　breasts；　she　sat　on　the　foot　of　his　bed。　The　way　she　looked　at　him；　you　would　have　thought　he　was　a　tavern　puzzle。　〃For　one；　you've　not　told　them　you　blew　the　Horn　of　Valere。　The　smallest　of　your　secrets　from　them；　I　think。〃
　　　Mat　blinked。　He　had　assumed　they　had　told　her。　After　all；　she　was　Birgitte。　〃What　secrets　do　I　have？　Those　women　know　my　toenails　and　dreams。〃　She　was　Birgitte。　Of　course。　He　leaned　forward。　〃Make　them　see　reason。　You're　Birgitte　Silverbow。　You　can　make　them　do　as　you　say。　This　city　has　a　pit…trap　at　every　crossing；　and　I　fear　the　stakes　grow　sharper　by　the　day。　Make　them　e　away　before　it's　too　late。〃
　　　She　laughed。　Put　a　hand　over　her　mouth　and　laughed！　〃You　have　the　wrong　end；　Hornsounder。　I　do　not　mand　them。　I　am　Elayne's　Warder。　I　obey。〃　Her　smile　became　rueful。　〃Birgitte　Silverbow。　Faith　of　the　Light；　I'm　not　sure　I　still　am　that　woman。　So　much　of　what　I　was　and　knew　has　faded　like　mist　beneath　the　summer　sun　since　my　strange　new　birth。　I'm　no　hero　now；　only　another　woman　to　make　my　way。　And　as　for　your　secrets。　What　language　do　we　speak；　Hornsounder？〃
　　　He　opened　his　mouth。。。　and　stopped；　really　hearing　what　she　had　just　asked。　Nosane　iro　gavane　domorakoshi；　Diynen'd'ma'purvene？　Speak　we　what　language；　Sounder　of　the　Horn？　The　hair　on　his　neck　tried　to　stand。　〃The　old　blood；〃　he　said　carefully。　Not　in　the　Old　Tongue。　〃An　Aes　Sedai　once　told　me　the　old　blood　runs　strong　in　…　What　are　you　bloody　well　laughing　at　now？〃
　　　〃You；　Mat；〃　she　managed　while　trying　not　to　double　over。　At　least　she　was　not　speaking　the　Old　Tongue　any　more　either。　She　knuckled　a　tear　from　the　corner　of　her　eye。　〃Some　people　speak　a　few　words；　a　phrase　or　two；　because　of　the　old　blood。　Usually　without　understanding　what　they　say；　or　not　quite。　But　you。。。　One　sentence；　you're　an　Eharoni　High　Prince　and　the　next　a　First　Lord　of　Manetheren；　accent　and　idiom　perfect。　No；　don't　worry。　Your　secret　is　safe　with　me。〃　She　hesitated。　〃Is　mine　with　you？〃
　　　He　waved　a　hand；　still　too　flabbergasted　to　be　offended。　〃Do　I　look　like　my　tongue　flaps？〃　he　muttered。　Birgitte！　In　the　flesh！　〃Burn　me；　I　could　use　a　drink。〃　Before　that　was　out　of　his　mouth　he　knew　it　was　the　wrong　thing　to　say。　Women　never　…
　　　〃That　sounds　the　right　notion　to　me；〃　she　said。　〃I　could　use　a　pitcher　of　wine；　myself。　Blood　and　ashes；　when　I　saw　you'd　recognized　me；　I　nearly　swallowed　my　tongue。〃
　　　He　sat　up　straight　as　if　he　had　been　jerked；　staring。
　　　She　met　his　gaze　with　a　merry　twinkle　and　a　grin。　〃There's　enough　noise　in　the　mon　room；　we　could　talk　without　being　overheard。　Besides；　I　wouldn't　mind　sitting　and　looking　a　bit。　Elayne　preaches　like　a　Tovan　councilor　if　I　ogle　a　man　for　longer　than　a　heartbeat。〃
　　　He　nodded　before　he　thought　Other　men's　memories　told　him　Tovans　were　a　stark　and　disapproving　people；　abstemious　to　the　point　of　pain；　at　least　they　had　been；　a　thousand　years　gone　and　more。　He　was　not　sure　whether　to　laugh　or　groan。　On　the　one　hand；　a　chance　to　talk　with　Birgitte　…　Birgitte！　he　doubted　he　would　ever　get　over　the　shock　…　but　on　the　other；　he　doubted　he　would　be　able　to　hear　the　music　downstairs　for　the　noise　of　those　dice　rattling　in　his　skull。　She　must　be　a　key　to　it；　somehow。　A　man　with　any　brains　would　climb　out　the　window　right　now。　〃A　pitcher　or　two　sounds　fine　to　me；〃　he　told　her。
　　　
　　　A　stiff　salt　breeze　up　from　the　bay　carried　a　touch　of　coolness；　for　a　wonder；　but　the　night　felt　oppressive　to　Nynaeve。　Music　and　snatches　of　laughter　drifted　into　the　palace；　and　faintly　from　within　as　well。　She　had　been　invited　to　the　ball　by　Tylin　herself；　and　Elayne　and　Aviendha　too；　but　all　declined；　with　varying　degrees　of　politeness。　Aviendha　had　said　there　was　only　one　dance　she　was　willing　to　do　with　wetlander　men；　which　made　Tylin　blink　uncertainly。　For　herself；　Nynaeve　would　have　liked　to　go　…　only　a　fool　passed　up　any　chance　to　dance　…　yet　she　knew　if　she　had；　she　would　have　done　exactly　what　she　was　doing；　sat　somewhere　worrying　and　trying　not　to　chew　her　knuckle　to　a　nub。
　　　So　there　they　all　were；　closeted　in　their　apartments　with　Thom　and　Juilin；　anxious　as　caged　cats；　while　everyone　else　in　Ebou　Dar　made　merry。　Well；　she　was；　anyway。　What　could　be　keeping　Birgitte？　How　long　did　it　take　to　tell　a　man　to　present　himself　first　thing　in　the　morning？　Light；　the　whole　effort　was　useless；　and　it　was　long　past　time　for　bed。　Long　past。　If　she　could　only　sleep；　she　could　put　away　memories　of　the　morning's　horrible　journeys　by　boat。　Worst　of　all；　her　weather　sense　told　her　a　storm　was　on　the　way；　told　her　the　wind　should　be　howling　outside　and　the　rain　sheeting　down　so　thick　no　one　could　see　ten　feet。　It　had　taken　her　some　time　to　understand　about　the　times　she　Listened　to　the　Wind　and　seemed　to　hear　lies。　At　least；　she　thought　she　understood。　Another　kind　of　storm　was　ing；　not　wind　or　rain。　She　had　no　proof；　but　she　would　eat　her　slippers　if　Mat　Cauthon　was　not　part　of　it　somehow。　She　wanted　to　sleep　for　a　month；　a　year；　to　forget　worries　until　Lan　wakened　her　with　a　kiss　like　the　Sun　King　with　Talia。　Which　was　ridiculous；　of　course；　that　was　only　a　story；　and　a　very　improper　one　at　that；　and　anyway；　she　was　not　about　to　bee　any　man's　pet；　not　even　Lan's。　She　would　find　him；　though；　somehow；　and　bond　him　hers。　She　would。。。　Light！　If　she　had　not　thought　the　others　would　stare　at　her；　she　would　have　paced　the　soles　out　of　her　slippers！
　　　The　hours　wore　on。　She　read　and　re…read　the　short　letter　Mat　had　left　with　Tylin。　Aviendha　sat　quietly　beside