rj.thepathofdaggers-第13部分

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　　　　　　　Elayne　sorted　and　stored　away　faces　and　the　names　she　knew　with　a　growing　sense　of　placency。　The　Windfinders　might　have　secured　an　upper　hand　of　sorts；　and　she　and　Nynaeve　might　be　in　deep　trouble；　very　deep；　with　both　Egwene　and　the　Hall　of　the　Tower　once　the　terms　of　their　bargain　became　known；　but　none　of　these　women　would　stand　particularly　high　among　Aes　Sedai。　Certainly　not　low；　but　not　high。　She　told　herself　not　to　feel　smug　…　it　changed　nothing　in　what　they　had　agreed　…　yet　it　was　very　hard　not　to。　These　were　the　best　the　Atha'an　could　produce；　after　all。　Here　in　Ebou　Dar；　anyway。　And　if　they　had　been　Aes　Sedai；　every　one　of　them；　from　Kurin；　with　her　stony　black　stare；　to　Renaile　herself；　would　have　listened　when　she　spoke　and　stood　when　she　entered　a　room。　If　they　were　Aes　Sedai　and　behaving　as　they　should。
　　　　　　　And　then　the　end　of　the　line　appeared；　and　she　gave　a　start　as　a　young　Windfinder　off　one　of　the　smaller　ships　passed　her；　a　round…cheeked　woman　called　Rainyn；　in　plain　blue　silks；　with　barely　a　half…dozen　ornaments　hanging　from　her　nose　chain。　The　two　apprentices；　boyishly　slim　Talaan　and　big…eyed　Metarra；　scurried　at　the　very　tail　with　harried　expressions。　They　had　not　earned　the　nose　ring　yet；　much　less　the　chain；　and　only　a　single　thin　gold　earring　in　the　left　ear　balanced　the　three　in　the　right。　Her　eyes　followed　the　three　of　them　just　short　of　staring。　Perhaps　not　short　of　it；　at　that。
　　　　　　　The　Atha'an　Miere　clustered　with　Renaile　again；　most；　like　her；　glaring　hungrily　at　the　Aes　Sedai　and　the　Bowl。　The　last　three　women　stood　at　the　rear；　the　apprentices　with　the　air　of　those　uncertain　whether　they　had　a　right　to　be　there　at　all；　Rainyn　folding　her　arms　in　imitation　of　Renaile；　yet　doing　little　better　than　the　other　two。　The　Windfinder　on　a　darter；　the　least　of　the　Sea　Folk　vessels；　likely　seldom　found　herself　in　pany　with　the　Windfinder　to　her　clan　Wavemistress；　not　to　mention　the　Windfinder　to　the　Mistress　of　the　Ships。　Rainyn　was　easily　as　strong　as　Lelaine　or　Romanda；　and　Metarra　on　a　level　with　Elayne　herself；　while　Talaan。。。　Talaan；　so　meek　in　her　red　linen　blouse；　with　eyes　that　seemed　permanently　downcast；　came　very　close　to　Nynaeve。　Very　close。　More；　Elayne　knew　she　herself　had　not　yet　reached　her　full　potential；　and　neither　had　Nynaeve。　How　close　were　Metarra　and　Talaan？　She　had　grown　accustomed　to　knowing　that　only　Nynaeve　and　the　Forsaken　were　stronger　than　she。　Well；　Egwene；　but　she　had　been　forced；　and　her　own　potential；　and　Aviendha's；　matched　Egwene's。　So　much　for　placency；　she　told　herself　ruefully。　Lini　would　have　said　it　was　what　she　deserved　for　taking　things　for　granted。
　　　　　　　Laughing　softly　at　herself；　Elayne　turned　back　to　check　on　Aviendha；　but　the　Knitting　Circle　stood　rooted　to　one　spot　in　front　of　the　gateway；　twitching　at　cold　stares　from　Careane　and　Sareitha。　All　but　Sumeko；　and　she　did　not　move　away　either　for　all　that　she　had　met　the　sisters'　gazes。　Kirstian　appeared　ready　to　burst　into　tears。
　　　　　　　Suppressing　a　sigh；　Elayne　herded　the　Kinswomen　out　of　the　way　of　the　stable　folk　waiting　to　bring　the　horses　through。　The　Knitting　Circle　went　along　like　sheep　…　she　was　the　shepherd；　Merilille　and　the　rest　the　wolves　…　and　they　would　have　moved　faster　if　not　for　Ispan。
　　　　　　　Famelle；　one　of　only　four　among　the　Knitting　Circle　without　a　touch　of　gray　or　white　in　her　hair；　and　Eldase；　a　fierce…eyed　woman　when　she　was　not　looking　at　an　Aes　Sedai；　held　Ispan　by　the　arms。　They　could　not　seem　to　decide　between　holding　her　firmly　enough　to　keep　her　upright　and　not　clutching　her　too　tightly；　with　the　result　that　the　Black　sister　moved　in　a　bobbing　fashion；　sagging　halfway　to　her　knees　when　they　loosened　their　grips；　then　pulled　back　up　just　before　she　fell　pletely。
　　　　　　　〃Forgive　me；　Aes　Sedai；〃　Famelle　kept　murmuring　to　Ispan　with　a　faint　Taraboner　accent。　〃Oh；　I　am　sorry；　Aes　Sedai。〃　Eldase　winced　and　gave　a　little　moan　every　time　Ispan　stumbled。　Just　as　if　Ispan　had　not　helped　murder　two　of　their　number　and　the　Light　alone　knew　how　many　others。　They　were　fussing　over　a　woman　who　was　going　to　die。　The　killings　in　the　White　Tower　that　Ispan　had　conspired　at　were　enough　to　condemn　her　by　themselves。
　　　　　　　〃Take　her　over　there　somewhere；〃　Elayne　told　them；　waving　away　from　the　gateway　into　the　clearing。　They　obeyed；　bobbing　curtsies　and　nearly　dropping　Ispan；　murmuring　apologies　to　Elayne　and　to　the　hooded　prisoner。　Reanne　and　the　rest　scurried　along；　anxiously　eyeing　the　sisters　around　Merilille。
　　　　　　　Almost　immediately　the　war　of　glares　started　up　again；　the　Aes　Sedai　at　the　Kinswomen；　the　Knitting　Circle　at　the　Windfinders；　and　the　Atha'an　Miere　at　anybody　their　eyes　fell　on。　Elayne　clamped　her　teeth　shut。　She　was　not　going　to　shout　at　them。　Nynaeve　always　got　better　results　with　yells；　anyway。　But　she　did　want　to　shake　some　sense　into　every　one　of　them；　shake　them　until　their　teeth　rattled。　Including　Nynaeve；　who　was　supposed　to　be　getting　everyone　organized　instead　of　staring　into　the　trees。　But　what　if　it　had　been　Rand　who　was　going　to　die　unless　she　could　find　a　way　to　save　him？
　　　　　　　Suddenly　tears　trembled　on　the　edge　of　falling；　stinging　her　eyes。　Rand　was　going　to　die；　and　there　was　nothing　she　could　do　to　stop　it。　Peel　the　apple　in　your　hand；　girl；　not　the　one　on　the　tree；　Lini's　thin　voice　seemed　to　whisper　in　her　ear。　Tears　are　for　after；　they　just　waste　time　before。
　　　　　　　〃Thank　you；　Lini；〃　Elayne　murmured。　Her　old　nurse　was　an　irritating　woman　sometimes；　never　admitting　that　any　of　her　charges　had　really　grown　up；　but　her　advice　was　always　good。　Just　because　Nynaeve　was　slacking　her　duties　was　no　reason　for　Elayne　to　slack　hers。
　　　　　　　Servants　had　started　trotting　horses　through　right　on　the　heels　of　the　Knitting　Circle；　beginning　with　the　packhorses。　None　of　those　first　animals　carried　anything　so　frivolous　as　clothes。　They　could　walk　if　the　riding　horses　needed　to　be　abandoned　on　the　other　side　of　the　gateway；　and　wear　what　they　stood　up　in　if　the　rest　of　the　pack　animals　had　to　be　left　behind；　but　what　was　on　those　first　horses　could　not　be　left　for　the　Forsaken。　Elayne　motioned　the　leather…cheeked　woman　leading　the　very　first　to　follow　her　aside；　out　of　the　way　of　the　others。
　　　　　　　Untying　and　tossing　back　the　stiff　canvas　cover　on　one　of　the　wide　wicker　panniers　revealed　a　great　heap　of　what　appeared　to　be　rubbish　stuffed　in　every　which　way；　right　up　to　the　top；　some　of　it　wrapped　in　cloth　that　was　falling　to　pieces。　The　greater　part　of　it　probably　was　rubbish。　Embracing　saidar；　Elayne　began　sorting。　A　rusted　breastplate　quickly　went　onto　the　ground；　along　with　a　broken　table　leg；　a　cracked　platter；　a　badly　dented　pewter　pitcher；　and　a　bolt　of　rotted；　unidentifiable　cloth　that　almost　broke　apart　in　her　hands。
　　　　　　　The　storeroom　where　they　found　the　Bowl　of　the　Winds　had　been　stuffed　full；　things　that　should　have　been　on　a　refuse　heap　jumbled　in　with　more　objects　of　the　Power　than　just　the　Bowl；　some　in　beetle…riddled　casks　or　chests；　some　carelessly　stacked。　For　hundreds　and　hundreds　of　years　the　Kin　had　hidden　away　all　things　they　found　that　were　connected　to　the　Power；　fearful　of　using　them　and　fearful　of　delivering　them　to　Aes　Sedai。　Until　that　very　morning。　This　was　the　first　chance　Elayne　had　had　to　see　what　was　worth　keeping。　The　Light　send　that　the　Darkfriends　had　not　gotten　away　with　anything　important；　they　had　taken　some；　but　certainly　less　than　a　quarter　of　what　the　room　had　held；　rubbish　included。　The　Light　send　she　found　something　they　could　use。　People　had　died　to　bring　these　things　out　of　the　Rahad。
　　　　　　　She　did　not　channel；　just　held　the　Power　as　she　lifted　each　item。　A　chipped　clay　cup；　three　broken　plates；　a　child's　moth…eaten　dress；　and　an　old　boot　with　a　hole　worn　through　the　side　all　fell　to　the　ground。　A　stone　carving　a　little　larger　than　her　hand　…　it　felt　like　stone；　it　might　have　been　a　carving；　though　it　did　not　exactly　look　carved；　for　some　reason　…　all　deep　blue　curves　vaguely　like　roots。　It　seemed　to　warm　faintly　at　her　touch；　it　held　a。。。　resonance。。。　to　saidar。　That　was　the　closest　word　she　could　think　of。　What　it　was　meant　to　do；　she　had　no　idea；　but　it　was　a　ter'angreal　without　any　doubt。　It　went　on　the　other　side　of　her；　away　from　the　pile　of　rubbish。
　　　　　　　The　heap　of　refuse　continued　to　grow；　but　so　did　the　other；　if　more　slowly；　things　that　had　nothing　in　mon　except　the　faint　warmth　and　the　sense　of　echoing　the　Power。　A　small　box　that　felt　like　ivory；　covered　in　wavering　red　and　green　stripes；　she　set　it　down　carefully　without　opening　the　hinged　lid。　You　could　never　tell　what　might　trigger　a　ter'angreal。　A　black　rod　no　thicker　than　her　little　finger；　a　pace　in　length；　stiff　yet　so　flexible　she　thought　she　could　have　doubled　it　into　a　circle。　A　tiny　stoppered　vial　that　might　have　been　crystal；　with　a　dark　red　liquid　inside。　The　figure　of　a　stout；　bearded　man　with　a　jolly　smile；　holding　a　book；　two　feet　tall；　it　appeared　to　be　age…darkened　bronze　and　took　both　of　her　hands　to　move。　Other　things。　Most　was　trash；　though。　And　none　was　what　she　truly　wanted。　Not　yet。
　　　　　　　〃Is　this　the　time　to　be　doing　that？〃　Nynaeve　asked。　She　straightened　hastily　from　the　small　cluster　of　ter'angreal；　grimacing　and　rubbing　her　hand　on　her　skirt。　〃That　rod　feels　like。。。　pain；〃　she　muttered。　The　hard…faced　woman　holding　the　packhorse's　head　blinked　at　the　rod　and　edged　away。
　　　　　　　Elayne　eyed　the　rod　…　Nynaeve's　occasional　impressions　about　objects　she　touched　could　be　useful　…　but　she　did　not　stop　sorting。　There　had　been　too　much　pain　lately　to　need　any　more；　surely。　Not　that　what　Nynaeve　sensed　was　always　that　straightforward。　The　rod　might　have　been　present　when　a　great　deal　of　pain　was　caused　without　being　the　cause　in　itself。　The　pannier　was　almost　empty；　some　of　what　was　on　the　other　side　of　the　horse　would　have　to　be　shifted　to　balance　the　weight。　〃If　there's　an　angreal　in　this　somewhere；　Nynaeve；　I　would　like　to　find　it　before　Moghedien　taps　one　of　us　on　the　shoulder。〃
　　　　　　　Nynaeve　grunted　sourly；　but　she　peered　into　the　wicker　basket。
　　　　　　　Dropping　another　table　leg　…　that　made　three；　none　of　which　matched　…　Elayne　spared　a　glance　for　the　clearing。　All　of　the　packhorses　were　out；　and　the　mounts　were