rj.thepathofdaggers-第54部分

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re　in　turmoil；　ripe　for　plucking。〃
　　　　　　　There　was　a　long　silence；　then　Therava　nodded。　〃East。〃　She　said　the　word　softly；　the　softness　of　silk　laid　over　steel。　〃But　remember　that　clan　chiefs　have　lived　to　regret　rejecting　a　Wise　One's　advice　too　often。　You　may；　as　well。〃　The　threat　on　her　face　was　plain　as　that　in　her　voice；　yet　Sevanna　laughed！
　　　　　　　〃You　remember；　Therava！　All　of　you　remember！　If　I　am　left　for　the　vultures；　so　will　you　be！　I　have　made　assurance　of　that。〃
　　　　　　　The　other　women　exchanged　worried　glances；　all　but　Therava；　and　Modarra　and　Norlea　frowned。
　　　　　　　Slumped　on　her　knees；　whimpering　and　trying　in　vain　to　soothe　her　skin　with　her　hands；　Galina　found　herself　wondering　what　these　threats　meant。　It　was　a　small　thought；　worming　its　way　through　bitterness　and　self…pity。　Anything　she　could　use　against　these　women　would　be　wele。　If　she　dared　use　it。　A　bitter　thought。
　　　　　　　Abruptly　she　realized　that　the　sky　was　turning　dark。　Billowing　clouds　were　rolling　down　from　the　north；　streaked　gray　and　black；　obscuring　the　sun。　And　beneath　the　clouds　fell　flurries　of　snow；　swirling　in　the　air。　None　reached　the　ground　…　few　fell　as　far　as　the　treetops　…　but　Galina　gaped。　Snow！　Had　the　Great　Lord　loosened　his　grip　on　the　world　for　some　reason？
　　　　　　　The　Wise　Ones　stared　at　the　sky；　too；　mouths　hanging　open　as　if　they　had　never　seen　clouds；　much　less　snow。
　　　　　　　〃What　is　this；　Galina　Casban？〃　Therava　demanded。　〃Speak　if　you　know！〃　She　did　not　look　away　from　the　sky　until　Galina　told　her　it　was　snow；　and　when　she　did　it　was　to　laugh。　〃I　always　thought　the　men　who　ran　down　Laman　Treekiller　lied　about　snow。　This　could　not　hamper　a　mouse！〃
　　　　　　　Galina　clamped　her　jaws　shut　on　explaining　about　snowfalls；　aghast　that　her　instinct　had　been　to　curry　favor。　Aghast　as　well　at　the　small　pang　of　pleasure　that　keeping　the　information　back　gave。　I　am　the　Highest　of　the　Red　Ajah！　she　reminded　herself。　I　sit　on　the　Supreme　Council　of　the　Black　Ajah！　They　sounded　like　lies。　This　was　not　fair！
　　　　　　　〃If　we　are　done　here；〃　Sevanna　said；　〃I　will　take　the　gai'shain　back　to　the　great　roof　and　see　her　put　in　white。　You　can　remain　and　stare　at　the　snow　if　you　wish。〃　Her　tone　was　so　smooth；　like　butter　in　the　tub；　that　no　one　would　have　thought　her　at　daggers'　points　only　moments　earlier。　She　looped　her　shawl　over　her　elbows　and　adjusted　some　of　her　necklaces；　nothing　in　the　world　concerned　her　more。
　　　　　　　〃We　will　take　care　of　the　gai'shain〃　Therava　told　her　just　as　smoothly。　〃Since　you　speak　as　the　chief；　you　have　a　long　day　and　most　of　the　night　ahead　of　you　if　we　are　to　move　tomorrow。〃　For　an　instant；　Sevanna's　eyes　flashed　again；　but　Therava　merely　snapped　her　fingers　and　gestured　sharply　at　Galina　before　turning　to　go。　〃e　with　me；〃　she　said。　〃And　stop　pouting。〃
　　　　　　　Head　down；　Galina　scrambled　to　her　feet　and　scurried　after　Therava　and　the　other　women　who　could　channel。　Pouting？　She　might　have　been　scowling；　but　never　pouting！　Her　thoughts　scrabbled　like　rats　in　a　cage；　finding　no　hope　of　escape。　There　had　to　be　one！　There　had　to　be！　One　thought　that　surfaced　in　the　middle　of　that　turmoil　almost　made　her　begin　weeping　again。　Were　gai'shain　robes　softer　than　the　scratchy　black　wool　she　had　been　forced　to　wear　so　far？　There　had　to　be　a　way　out！　A　hasty　glance　back　through　the　trees　showed　Sevanna　still　standing　there；　glaring　after　them。　Overhead；　the　clouds　swirled；　and　the　falling　snow　melted　like　Galina's　hopes。
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　
Chapter　12　
（Snakey　Square）　
New　Alliances　
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　Graendal　wished　there　had　been　even　a　simple　transcriber　among　the　things　she　had　removed　from　Illian　after　Sammael's　death。　This　Age　was　frightful　usually；　primitive　and　unfortable。　Still；　some　of　it　suited　her。　In　a　large　bamboo　cage　at　the　far　end　of　the　room　a　hundred　brightly　plumaged　birds　sang　melodiously；　almost　as　beautiful　in　their　multicolored　flitting　as　her　two　pets　in　transparent　robes　who　waited　on　either　side　of　the　door；　their　gazes　locked　on　her；　eager　to　serve　her　pleasure。　If　oil　lamps　did　not　give　the　same　light　as　glowbulbs；　aided　by　large　mirrors　on　the　walls　they　produced　a　certain　barbaric　splendor　with　the　gilded　fish…scale　ceiling。　It　would　have　been　nice　to　need　only　speak　the　words；　but　actually　putting　them　on　paper　with　her　own　hand　produced　a　pleasure　akin　to　that　she　felt　in　sketching。　The　script　of　this　Age　was　quite　simple；　and　learning　to　duplicate　another's　style　had　been　no　more　difficult。
　　　　　　　Signing　with　a　flourish　…　not　her　own　name；　of　course　…　she　sanded　the　thick　page；　then　folded　it　and　sealed　it　with　one　of　the　signet　rings　of　various　sizes　that　made　a　decorative　line　across　the　writing　table。　The　Hand　and　Sword　of　Arad　Doman　impressed　on　an　irregular　circle　of　blue…and…green　wax。
　　　　　　　〃Take　this　to　Lord　Ituralde　with　all　speed；〃　she　said；　〃and　say　only　what　I　told　you。〃
　　　　　　　〃As　fast　as　horses　can　carry　me；　my　Lady。〃　Nazran　bowed　as　he　took　the　letter；　one　finger　stroking　thin　black　mustaches　above　a　winning　smile。　Square　and　deeply　brown　in　a　well…fitting　blue　coat；　he　was　handsome；　just　not　sufficiently　handsome。　〃I　received　this　from　the　Lady　Tuva；　who　died　of　her　wounds　after　telling　me　that　she　was　a　courier　from　Alsalam　and　had　been　attacked　by　a　Gray　Man。〃
　　　　　　　〃Make　sure　there　is　human　blood　on　it；〃　she　admonished。　She　doubted　anyone　in　this　time　could　tell　human　blood　from　any　other；　but　she　had　found　too　many　surprises　to　take　an　unnecessary　chance。　〃Enough　for　realism；　not　enough　to　spoil　what　I　wrote。〃
　　　　　　　His　black　eyes　lingered　warmly　on　her　as　he　bowed　again；　but　as　soon　as　he　straightened　he　hurried　to　the　door；　boots　thudding　on　the　pale　yellow　marble　floor。　He　did　not　notice　the　servants　with　their　eyes　fixed　ardently　on　her；　or　affected　not　to　notice；　though　he　had　once　been　a　friend　of　the　young　man。　Only　a　touch　of　pulsion　had　been　needed　to　make　Nazran　nearly　as　avid　to　obey　as　they；　not　to　mention　certain　that　he　might　yet　taste　her　charms　again。　She　laughed　softly。　Well；　he　believed　he　had　tasted　them；　just　a　little　prettier；　and　he　might　have。　Of　course；　he　would　have　been　useless　for　anything　else　then。　He　would　ride　horses　to　death　reaching　Ituralde；　and　if　that　message；　delivered　by　Alsalam's　close　cousin；　supposedly　ing　from　the　King　himself　and　with　Gray　Men　trying　to　stop　it；　did　not　satisfy　the　Great　Lord's　mand　to　increase　chaos；　nothing　would；　short　of　balefire。　And　it　would　serve　her　own　ends　very　nicely　as　well。　Her　own　ends。
　　　　　　　Graendal's　hand　went　to　the　only　ring　on　the　table　that　was　not　a　signet；　a　plain　golden　band　too　small　for　any　but　her　little　finger。　It　had　been　a　pleasant　surprise　to　find　an　angreal　attuned　to　women　among　Sammael's　possessions。　A　pleasant　surprise　to　have　time　to　find　much　of　anything　useful　with　al'Thor　and　those　puppies　who　called　themselves　Asha'man　constantly　in　and　out　of　Sammael's　chambers　in　the　Great　Hall　of　the　Council。　They　had　stripped　it　bare　of　what　she　had　not　taken。　Dangerous　puppies；　all　of　them；　especially　al'Thor。　And　she　had　not　wanted　to　risk　anyone　being　able　to　draw　a　line　from　Sammael　to　her。　Yes；　she　must　increase　the　pace　of　her　own　plans；　and　distance　herself　from　Sammael's　disaster。
　　　　　　　Abruptly　a　vertical　slash　of　silver　appeared　at　the　far　end　of　the　room；　bright　against　the　tapestries　hanging　between　the　heavy　gilded　mirrors；　and　a　crystalline　chime　rang　loud。　Her　eyebrows　rose　in　surprise。　Someone　remembered　the　courtesies　of　a　more　civilized　Age；　it　seemed。　Standing；　she　forced　the　plain　band　of　gold　down　against　the　ruby　ring　on　her　smallest　finger　and　embraced　saidar　through　it　before　channeling　the　web　that　would　sound　an　answering　chime　for　whoever　wanted　to　open　a　gateway。　The　angreal　did　not　offer　much；　yet　anyone　who　thought　they　knew　her　strength　would　find　a　shock。
　　　　　　　The　gateway　opened；　and　two　women　in　nearly　identical　red…and…black　silk　dresses　stepped　through　warily。　At　least；　Moghedien　moved　cautiously；　dark　eyes　flickering　in　search　of　traps；　hands　smoothing　her　wide　skirts；　the　gateway　winked　out　after　a　moment；　but　she　held　on　to　saidar。　A　sensible　precaution；　though　Moghedien　had　always　been　a　great　one　for　precautions。　Graendal　did　not　let　go　of　the　Source；　either。　Moghedien's　panion；　a　short　young　woman　with　long　silver　hair　and　vivid　blue　eyes；　stared　about　her　coldly；　hardly　more　than　glancing　in　Graendal's　direction。　By　her　demeanor；　she　might　have　been　a　Prime　Counselor　forced　to　endure　the　pany　of　mon　laborers　and　intent　on　ignoring　their　existence。　A　foolish　girl；　to　imitate　the　Spider。　Red　and　black　did　not　suit　her　coloring；　and　she　should　have　made　better　use　of　such　an　impressive　bosom。
　　　　　　　〃This　is　Cyndane；　Graendal；〃　Moghedien　said。　〃We　are。。。　working　together。〃　She　did　not　smile　when　she　named　the　haughty　young　woman；　but　Graendal　did。　A　pretty　name　for　a　more　than　pretty　girl；　but　what　twist　of　fate　had　led　some　mother　of　this　time　to　give　her　daughter　a　name　that　meant　〃Last　Chance〃？　Cyndane's　face　remained　cold　and　smooth；　but　her　eyes　flared。　A　beautiful　doll　carved　from　ice；　with　hidden　fires。　It　seemed　she　knew　the　meaning　and　did　not　like　it。
　　　　　　　〃What　brings　you　and　your　friend；　Moghedien？〃　Graendal　asked。　The　Spider　was　the　very　last　she　had　expected　to　e　out　from　the　shadows。　〃Have　no　fear　of　speaking　in　front　of　my　servants。〃　She　gestured；　and　the　pair　by　the　door　sank　to　their　knees；　pressed　their　faces　to　the　floor。　They　would　not　quite　fall　dead　by　her　simple　mand；　but　close。
　　　　　　　〃What　interest　can　you　find　in　them　when　you　destroy　anything　that　might　make　them　interesting？〃　Cyndane　demanded；　striding　arrogantly　across　the　floor。　She　held　herself　very　straight；　striving　for　every　hair　of　height。　〃Do　you　know　that　Sammael　is　dead？〃
　　　　　　　Graendal　kept　her　own　face　smooth；　with　a　little　effort。　She　had　supposed　this　girl　some　Friend　of　the　Dark　whom　Moghedien　had　picked　up　to　run　errands；　perhaps　a　noble　who　thought　her　title　counted；　but　now　that　she　was　close。。。　The　girl　was　stronger　in　the　One　Power　than　she　herself！　Even　in　her　own　Age；　that　had　been　unmon　among　men；　and　very　rare　indeed　among　women。　On　the　instant；　on　instinct；　she　changed　her　intention　to　deny　any　contact　with　Sammael。
　　　　　　　〃I　suspected；〃