rj.theshadowrising-第9部分

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Suroth　raised　one　finger　a　fraction；　making　a　small　gesture　every　so'jhin　knew　from　childhood；　a　simple　dismissal。
Alwhin　hesitated　before　interpreting　it；　then　tried　to　cover　her　slip　by　rounding　harshly　on　Taisa。　〃Take　this。。。　creature　from　the　presence　of　the　High　Lady　Suroth。　And　when　you　have　punished　her；　go　to　Surela　and　tell　her　that　you　control　your　charges　as　if　you　had　never　worn　the　bracelet　before。　Tell　her　that　you　are　to　be　…〃
Suroth　shut　Alwhin's　voice　from　her　mind。　None　of　that　had　been　her　mand　except　the　dismissal；　but　quarrels　between　sul'dam　were　beneath　her　notice。　She　wished　she　knew　whether　Pura　was　managing　to　hide　something。　Her　agents　reported　claims　that　the　women　of　the　White　Tower　could　not　lie。　It　had　not　been　possible　to　force　Pura　to　tell　even　a　simple　lie；　to　say　that　a　white　scarf　was　black；　yet　that　was　not　enough　to　be　conclusive。　Some　might　accept　the　tears　of　the　damane；　her　protests　of　inability　whatever　the　sul'dam　did；　but　none　who　did　would　have　risen　to　lead　the　Return。　Pura　might　have　some　reservoir　of　will　left；　might　be　clever　enough　to　try　using　the　belief　that　she　was　incapable　of　lying。　None　of　the　women　collared　on　the　mainland　were　fully　obedient；　trustworthy；　not　like　the　damane　brought　from　Seanchan。　None　of　them　truly　accepted　what　they　were；　as　Seanchan　damane　did。　Who　could　say　what　secrets　might　hide　in　one　who　had　called　herself　Aes　Sedai？
Not　for　the　first　time　Suroth　wished　she　had　the　other　Aes　Sedai　who　had　been　captured　on　Toman　Head。　With　two　to　question；　there　would　have　been　a　better　chance　to　catch　lies　and　evasions。　It　was　a　useless　wish。　The　other　could　be　dead；　drowned　at　sea；　or　on　display　at　the　Court　of　the　Nine　Moons。　Some　of　the　ships　Suroth　had　failed　to　gather　in　must　have　managed　the　journey　back　across　the　ocean；　and　one　might　well　have　carried　the　woman。
She　herself　had　sent　a　ship　carrying　carefully　crafted　reports；　nearly　half　a　year　ago　now；　as　soon　as　she　had　solidified　her　control　of　the　Forerunners；　with　a　captain　and　crew　from　families　that　had　served　hers　since　Luthair　Paendrag　had　proclaimed　himself　Emperor；　nearly　a　thousand　years　ago。　Dispatching　the　ship　had　been　a　gamble；　for　the　Empress　might　send　back　someone　to　take　Suroth's　place。　Not　sending　the　vessel　would　have　been　a　greater；　though；　only　utter　and　crushing　victory　could　have　saved　her　then。　Perhaps　not　even　that。　So　the　Empress　knew　of　Falme；　knew　of　Turak's　disaster　and　Suroth's　intention　to　go　on。　But　what　did　she　think　of　that　knowledge；　and　what　was　she　doing　about　it？　That　was　a　greater　concern　than　any　damane；　whatever　she　had　been　before　collaring。
Yet　the　Empress　did　not　know　everything。　The　worst　could　not　be　entrusted　to　any　messenger；　no　matter　how　loyal。　It　would　only　be　passed　from　Suroth's　lips　directly　to　the　ear　of　the　Empress；　and　Suroth　had　taken　pains　to　keep　it　so。　Only　four　still　lived　who　knew　the　secret；　and　two　of　those　would　never　speak　of　it　to　anyone；　not　of　their　own　volition。　Only　three　deaths　can　hold　it　more　tightly。
Suroth　did　not　realize　she　had　murmured　the　last　aloud　until　Alwhin　said；　〃And　yet　the　High　Lady　needs　all　three　alive。〃　The　woman　had　a　properly　humble　suppleness　to　her　stance；　even　to　the　trick　of　downcast　eyes　that　still　managed　to　watch　for　any　sign　from　Suroth。　Her　voice　was　humble；　too。　〃Who　can　say；　High　Lady；　what　the　Empress　…　may　she　live　forever！　…　might　do　if　she　learned　of　an　attempt　to　keep　such　knowledge　from　her？〃
Instead　of　answering；　Suroth　made　the　tiny　dismissing　gesture　once　more。　Again　Alwhin　hesitated　…　this　time　it　had　to　be　simple　reluctance　to　leave；　the　woman　rose　above　herself！　…　before　bowing　deeply　and　backing　out　of　Suroth's　presence。
With　an　effort　Suroth　found　calmness。　The　sul'dam　and　the　other　two　were　a　problem　she　could　not　solve　now；　but　patience　was　a　necessity　for　the　Blood。　Those　who　lacked　it　were　likely　to　end　in　the　Tower　of　Ravens。
On　the　terrace；　kneeling　servants　leaned　forward　a　hair　in　readiness　as　she　appeared　again。　The　soldiers　maintained　their　watch　to　see　she　was　undisturbed。　Suroth　took　up　her　place　before　the　balustrade；　this　time　staring　out　to　sea；　toward　the　mainland　hundreds　of　miles　to　the　east。
To　be　the　one　who　successfully　led　the　Forerunners；　who　began　the　Return；　would　bring　much　honor。　Perhaps　even　adoption　into　the　family　of　the　Empress；　though　that　was　an　honor　not　without　plications。　To　also　be　the　one　who　captured　this　Dragon；　whether　false　or　real；　along　with　the　means　of　controlling　his　incredible　power。。。。
But　if…when　I　take　him；　do　I　give　him　to　the　Empress？　That　is　the　question。
Her　long　nails　began　to　click　again　on　the　wide　stone　rail。


　
Chapter　2
（Dragon）
Whirlpools　in　the　Pattern

　　　　　　　Inland　the　hot　night　wind　blew；　north　across　the　vast　delta　called　the　Fingers　of　the　Dragon；　a　winding　maze　of　waterways　broad　and　narrow；　some　choked　with　knifegrass。　Vast　plains　of　reeds　separated　clusters　of　low　islands　forested　with　spider…rooted　trees　seen　nowhere　else。　Eventually　the　delta　gave　way　to　its　source；　the　River　Erinin；　the　river's　great　width　spotted　with　the　lights　of　small　boats　lantern…fishing。　Boats　and　lights　bobbed　wildly；　sudden　and　unexpected；　and　some　older　men　muttered　of　evil　things　passing　in　the　night。　Young　men　laughed；　but　they　hauled　the　nets　more　vigorously；　too；　eager　to　be　home　and　out　of　the　dark。　The　stories　said　evil　could　not　cross　your　threshold　unless　you　invited　it　in。　That　was　what　the　stories　said。　But　out　in　the　darkness。。。。
　　　　　　　The　last　tang　of　salt　had　vanished　by　the　time　the　wind　reached　the　great　city　of　Tear；　hard　by　the　river；　where　tile…roofed　inns　and　shops　shouldered　against　tall；　towered　palaces　gleaming　in　the　moonlight。　Yet　no　place　was　half　so　tall　as　the　massive　bulk；　almost　a　mountain；　that　stretched　from　city's　heart　to　water's　edge。　The　Stone　of　Tear；　fortress　of　legend；　the　oldest　stronghold　of　mankind；　erected　in　the　last　days　of　the　Breaking　of　the　World。　While　nations　and　empires　rose　and　fell；　were　replaced　and　fell　anew；　the　Stone　stood。　It　was　the　rock　on　which　armies　had　broken　spears　and　swords　and　hearts　for　three　thousand　years。　And　in　all　that　time　it　had　never　fallen　to　invading　arms。　Until　now。
　　　　　　　The　streets　of　the　city；　the　taverns　and　inns；　were　all　but　empty　in　the　muggy　darkness；　people　keeping　cautiously　within　their　own　walls。　Who　held　the　Stone　was　lord　of　Tear；　city　and　nation。　That　was　the　way　it　had　always　been；　and　the　people　of　Tear　accepted　it　always。　By　daylight　they　would　cheer　their　new　lord　with　enthusiasm　as　they　had　cheered　the　old；　by　night　they　huddled　together；　shivering　despite　the　heat　when　the　wind　howled　across　their　rooftops　like　a　thousand　keening　mourners。　Strange　new　hopes　danced　in　their　heads；　hopes　none　in　Tear　had　dared　for　a　hundred　generations；　hopes　mixed　with　fears　as　old　as　the　Breaking。
　　　　　　　The　wind　lashed　the　long；　white　banner　catching　the　moon　above　the　Stone　as　if　trying　to　rip　it　away。　Along　its　length　marched　a　sinuous　figure　like　a　legged　serpent；　golden…maned　like　a　lion；　scaled　in　scarlet　and　gold；　seeming　to　ride　the　wind。　Banner　of　prophecy；　hoped　for　and　dreaded。　Banner　of　the　Dragon。　The　Dragon　Reborn。　Harbinger　of　the　world's　salvation；　and　herald　of　a　new　Breaking　to　e。　As　if　outraged　at　such　defiance；　the　wind　dashed　itself　against　the　hard　walls　of　the　Stone。　The　Dragon　banner　floated；　unheeding　in　the　night；　awaiting　greater　storms。
　　　　　　　In　a　room　more　than　halfway　up　the　Stone's　southern　face；　Perrin　sat　on　the　chest　at　the　foot　of　his　canopied　bed　and　watched　the　dark…haired　young　woman　pacing　up　and　down。　There　was　a　trace　of　wariness　in　his　golden　eyes。　Usually　Faile　bantered　with　him；　maybe　poked　a　little　gentle　fun　at　his　deliberate　ways；　tonight　she　had　not　said　ten　words　since　ing　through　the　door。　He　could　smell　the　rose　petals　that　had　been　folded　into　her　clothes　after　cleaning；　and　the　scent　that　was　just　her。　And　in　the　hint　of　clean　perspiration；　he　smelled　nervousness。　Faile　almost　never　showed　nerves。　Wondering　why　she　did　now　set　an　itch　between　his　shoulders　that　had　nothing　to　do　with　the　night's　heat。　Her　narrow；　divided　skirts　made　a　soft　whisk…whisk…whisk　with　her　strides。
　　　　　　　He　scratched　his　two…week　growth　of　beard　irritably。　It　was　even　curlier　than　the　hair　on　his　head。　It　was　also　hot。　For　the　hundredth　time　he　thought　of　shaving。
　　　　　　　〃It　suits　you；〃　Faile　said　suddenly；　stopping　in　her　tracks。
　　　　　　　Unfortably；　he　shrugged　shoulders　heavy　from　long　hours　working　at　a　forge。　She　did　that　sometimes；　seemed　to　know　what　he　was　thinking。　〃It　itches；〃　he　muttered；　and　wished　he　had　spoken　more　forcefully。　It　was　his　beard；　he　could　shave　it　off　any　time　he　wanted。
　　　　　　　She　studied　him；　her　head　tilted　to　one　side。　Her　bold　nose　and　high　cheekbones　made　it　seem　a　fierce　study；　a　contrast　to　the　soft　voice　in　which　she　said；　〃It　looks　right　on　you。〃
　　　　　　　Perrin　sighed；　and　shrugged　again。　She　had　not　asked　him　to　keep　the　beard；　and　she　would　not。　Yet　he　knew　he　was　going　to　put　off　shaving　again。　He　wondered　how　his　friend　Mat　would　handle　this　situation。　Probably　with　a　pinch　and　a　kiss　and　some　remark　that　made　her　laugh　until　he　brought　her　around　to　his　way　of　thinking。　But　Perrin　knew　he　did　not　have　Mat's　way　with　the　girls。　Mat　would　never　find　himself　sweating　behind　a　beard　just　because　a　woman　thought　he　should　have　hair　on　his　face。　Unless；　maybe；　the　woman　was　Faile。　Perrin　suspected　that　her　father　must　deeply　regret　her　leaving　home；　and　not　just　because　she　was　his　daughter。　He　was　the　biggest　fur　trader　in　Saldaea；　so　she　claimed；　and　Perrin　could　see　her　getting　the　price　she　wanted　every　time。
　　　　　　　〃Something　is　troubling　you；　Faile；　and　it　isn't　my　beard。　What　is　it？〃
　　　　　　　Her　expression　became　guarded。　She　looked　everywhere　but　at　him；　making　a　contemptuous　survey　of　the　room's　furnishings。
　　　　　　　Carvings　of　leopards　and　lions；　stooping　hawks　and　hunting　scenes　decorated　everything　from　the　tall　wardrobe　and　bedposts　as　thick　as　his　leg　to　the　padded　bench　in　front　of　the　cold　marble　fireplace。　Some　of　the　animals　had　garnet　eyes。
　　　　　　　He　had　tried　to　convince　the　majhere　that　he　wanted　a　simple　room；　but　she　did　not　seem　to　unde