rj.thepathofdaggers-第6部分

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　　　　　　　She　barely　waited　for　the　other　woman's　pitiful　nod　before　moving　to　kneel　beside　her　and　place　hands　on　Beldeine's　head。　The　young　woman　was　almost　as　ready　as　she　could　be。　Opening　herself　to　more　of　saidar；　Verin　wove　the　flows　of　Healing；　and　the　Green　gasped　and　quivered。　The　half　filled　cup　dropped　from　her　hands；　and　a　flailing　arm　knocked　the　pitcher　onto　its　side。　Now　she　was　as　ready　as　she　could　be。
　　　　　　　In　the　moments　of　confusion　that　gripped　anyone　after　being　Healed；　while　Beldeine　still　blinked　and　tried　to　e　back　to　herself；　Verin　opened　herself　further；　opened　herself　through　the　carved…flower　angreal　in　her　pouch。　Not　a　very　powerful　angreal；　but　enough；　and　she　needed　every　bit　of　the　extra　Power　it　gave　her　for　this。　The　flows　she　began　weaving　bore　no　resemblance　to　Healing。　Spirit　predominated　by　far；　but　there　was　Wind　and　Water；　Fire　and　Earth；　the　last　of　some　difficulty　for　her；　and　even　the　skeins　of　Spirit　had　to　be　divided　again　and　again；　placed　with　an　intricacy　to　boggle　a　weaver　of　fine　carpets。　Even　if　a　Wise　One　poked　her　head　into　the　tent；　with　the　smallest　of　luck　she　would　not　possess　the　rare　Talent　needed　to　realize　what　Verin　was　doing。　There　would　still　be　difficulties；　perhaps　painful　difficulties　one　way　and　another；　but　she　could　live　with　anything　short　of　true　discovery。
　　　　　　　〃What。。。？〃　Beldeine　said　drowsily。　Her　head　would　have　lolled　except　for　Verin's　grip；　and　her　eyelids　were　half…closed。　〃What　are　you。。。？　What　is　happening？〃
　　　　　　　〃Nothing　that　will　harm　you；〃　Verin　told　her　reassuringly。　The　woman　might　die　inside　the　year；　or　in　ten；　as　a　result　of　this；　but　the　weave　itself　would　not　harm　her。　〃I　promise　you；　this　is　safe　enough　to　use　on　an　infant。〃　Of　course；　that　depended　on　what　you　did　with　it。
　　　　　　　She　needed　to　lay　the　flows　in　place　thread　by　thread；　but　talking　seemed　to　help　rather　than　hinder。　And　too　long　a　silence　might　rouse　suspicion；　if　her　twin　guardians　were　listening。　Her　eyes　darted　frequently　to　the　dangling　doorflaps。　She　wanted　some　answers　she　had　no　intention　of　sharing；　answers　none　of　the　women　she　questioned　were　likely　to　give　freely　even　if　they　knew　them。　One　of　the　smaller　effects　of　this　weave　was　to　loosen　the　tongue　and　open　the　mind　as　well　as　any　herb　ever　could；　an　effect　that　came　on　quickly。
　　　　　　　Dropping　her　voice　almost　to　a　whisper；　she　continued。　〃The　al'Thor　boy　seems　to　think　he　has　supporters　of　some　kind　inside　the　White　Tower；　Beldeine。　In　secret；　of　course；　they　must　be。〃　Even　a　man　with　his　ear　pressed　to　the　fabric　of　the　tent　should　be　able　to　hear　only　that　they　were　talking。　〃Tell　me　anything　you　know　about　them。〃
　　　　　　　〃Supporters？〃　Beldeine　murmured；　attempting　a　frown　that　seemed　beyond　her　ability。　She　stirred；　though　it　hardly　deserved　the　word　agitation；　feeble　and　uncoordinated。　〃For　him？　Among　the　sisters？　It　can't　be。　Except　for　those　of　you　who。。。　How　could　you；　Verin？　Why　didn't　you　fight　it？〃
　　　　　　　Verin　tsked　vexedly。　Not　for　the　foolish　suggestion　that　she　should　have　fought　a　ta'veren。　The　boy　seemed　so　certain。　Why？　She　kept　her　voice　low。　〃Do　you　have　no　suspicions；　Beldeine？　Did　you　hear　no　rumors　before　you　left　Tar　Valon？　No　whispers？　No　one　who　hinted　at　approaching　him　differently？　Tell　me。〃
　　　　　　　〃No　one。　Who　could。。。？　No　one　would。。。　I　admired　Kiruna　so。〃　There　was　a　hint　of　loss　in　Beldeine's　sleepy　voice；　and　tears　leaking　from　her　eyes　made　tracks　through　the　dirt。　Only　Verin's　hands　kept　her　sitting　upright。
　　　　　　　Verin　continued　to　lay　down　the　threads　of　her　weaving；　eyes　flashing　from　her　work　to　the　doorflaps　and　back。　She　felt　a　little　like　sweating　herself。　Sorilea　might　decide　she　needed　help　with　the　questioning。　She　might　bring　out　one　of　the　sisters　from　the　Sun　Palace。　Should　any　sister　learn　of　this；　stilling　was　a　very　real　possibility。　〃So　you　were　going　to　deliver　him　to　Elaida　neatly　washed　and　well…behaved；〃　she　said　in　a　slightly　louder　tone。　The　quiet　had　gone　on　too　long。　She　did　not　want　that　pair　outside　reporting　that　she　was　whispering　with　the　prisoners。
　　　　　　　〃I　couldn't。。。　speak　out。。。　against　Galina's　decision。　She　led。。。　by　the　Amyrlin's　mand。〃　Beldeine　shifted　again；　weakly。　Her　voice　was　still　dreamy；　but　it　picked　up　an　agitated　edge。　Her　eyelids　fluttered。　〃He　had　to。。。　be　made。。。　to　obey！　He　had　to　be！　Shouldn't　have　been。。。　treated　so　harshly。　Like　putting。。。　him　to。。。　question。　Wrong。〃
　　　　　　　Verin　snorted。　Wrong？　Disastrous　was　more　like　it。　A　disaster　from　the　first。　Now　the　man　looked　at　any　Aes　Sedai　almost　the　way　Aeron　did。　And　if　they　had　succeeded　in　carrying　him　to　Tar　Valon？　A　ta'veren　like　Rand　al'Thor　actually　inside　the　White　Tower？　A　thought　to　make　a　stone　tremble。　However　it　had　turned　out；　disaster　would　surely　have　been　too　mild　a　word。　The　price　paid　at　Dumai's　Wells　was　small　enough；　for　avoiding　that。
　　　　　　　She　went　on　asking　questions　in　a　tone　that　could　be　heard　clearly　by　anyone　listening　outside。　Asking　questions　she　already　had　answers　for；　and　avoiding　those　too　dangerous　to　be　answered。　She　paid　little　heed　to　the　words　ing　out　of　her　mouth　or　to　Beldeine's　replies。　Mainly　she　concentrated　on　her　weaving。
　　　　　　　A　great　many　things　had　captured　her　interest　over　the　years；　not　all　strictly　approved　of　by　the　Tower。　Almost　every　wilder　who　came　to　the　White　Tower　for　training　…　both　true　wilders；　who　really　had　begun　teaching　themselves；　and　girls　who　merely　had　started　touching　the　Source　because　the　spark　born　in　them　had　quickened　on　its　own；　for　some　sisters；　there　was　no　real　difference　…　nearly　every　one　of　those　wilders　had　created　at　least　one　trick　for　herself；　and　those　tricks　almost　invariably　fell　under　one　of　two　headings。　A　way　to　listen　in　on　other　people's　conversations　or　a　way　of　making　people　do　as　they　wanted。
　　　　　　　The　first；　the　Tower　did　not　care　much　about。　Even　a　wilder　who　had　gained　considerable　control　on　her　own　quickly　learned　that　as　long　as　she　wore　novice　white；　she　was　not　to　so　much　as　touch　saidar　without　a　sister　or　one　of　the　Accepted　standing　over　her。　Which　did　tend　to　limit　eavesdropping　rather　sharply。　The　other　trick；　however；　smelled　too　akin　to　forbidden　pulsion。　Oh；　it　was　just　a　way　to　make　Father　give　her　dresses　or　trinkets　he　did　not　want　to　buy；　or　make　Mother　approve　of　young　men　she　ordinarily　ran　off；　things　of　that　nature；　but　the　Tower　rooted　the　trick　out　most　effectively。　Many　of　the　girls　and　women　Verin　had　spoken　to　over　the　years　could　not　make　themselves　form　the　weaves；　much　less　use　them；　and　a　fair　number　could　not　even　make　themselves　remember　how。　From　bits　and　pieces　and　scraps　of　half…remembered　weaves　created　by　untrained　girls　for　very　limited　purposes；　Verin　had　reconstructed　a　thing　forbidden　by　the　Tower　since　its　founding。　In　the　beginning　it　had　been　simple　curiosity　on　her　part。　Curiosity；　she　thought　wryly；　working　at　the　weave　on　Beldeine；　has　made　me　climb　into　more　than　one　pickling　kettle。　Usefulness　came　later。
　　　　　　　〃I　suppose　Elaida　meant　to　keep　him　down　in　the　open　cells；〃　she　said　conversationally。　The　grill…walled　cells　were　intended　for　men　who　could　channel；　as　well　as　initiates　of　the　Tower　under　close　arrest；　wilders　who　had　claimed　to　be　Aes　Sedai；　and　anyone　else　who　must　be　both　confined　and　blocked　off　from　the　Source。　〃Not　a　fortable　place　for　the　Dragon　Reborn。　No　privacy。　Do　you　believe　he　is　the　Dragon　Reborn；　Beldeine？〃　This　time　she　paused　to　listen。
　　　　　　　〃Yes。〃　The　word　was　a　long　hiss；　and　Beldeine　rolled　frightened　eyes　toward　Verin's　face。　〃Yes。。。　but　he　must。。。　be　kept。。。　safe。　The　world。。。　must　be。。。　safe。。。　from　him。〃
　　　　　　　Interesting。　They　had　all　said　the　world　had　to　be　kept　safe　from　him；　what　was　interesting　was　those　who　thought　he　needed　protection；　too。　Some　who　had　said　that；　surprised　her。
　　　　　　　To　Verin's　eyes；　the　weave　she　had　made　resembled　nothing　so　much　as　a　haphazard　tangle　of　faintly　glowing　transparent　threads　all　bundled　around　Beldeine's　head；　with　four　threads　of　Spirit　trailing　out　of　the　mess。　Two　of　those；　opposite　one　another；　she　pulled；　and　the　tangle　collapsed　slightly；　falling　inward；　into　something　on　the　edge　of　order。　Beldeine's　eyes　shot　open　wide；　staring　into　the　far　distance。
　　　　　　　In　a　firm；　low　voice；　Verin　gave　her　instructions。　More　like　suggestions；　though　she　phrased　them　as　mands。　Beldeine　would　have　to　find　reasons　within　herself　to　obey；　if　she　did　not；　then　all　this　had　been　so　much　wasted　effort。
　　　　　　　With　the　final　words；　Verin　pulled　the　other　two　threads　of　Spirit；　and　the　tangle　collapsed　further。　This　time；　though；　it　fell　into　what　seemed　perfect　order；　a　pattern　more　precise；　more　plicated　than　the　most　intricate　lace；　and　plete；　tied　off　by　the　same　action　that　began　its　shrinking。　This　time；　it　continued　to　fall　inward　on　itself；　inward　around　Beldeine's　head。　Those　faintly　glowing　threads　sank　into　her；　vanished。　Her　eyes　rolled　back　in　her　head；　and　she　began　to　thrash；　limbs　quivering。　Verin　held　her　as　gently　as　she　could；　but　Beldeine's　head　still　whipped　from　side　to　side；　and　her　bare　heels　drummed　on　the　carpets。　Soon；　only　the　most　careful　Delving　would　tell　that　anything　had　been　done；　and　not　even　that　would　identify　the　weave。　Verin　had　tested　that　carefully；　and　if　she　did　say　so　herself；　none　surpassed　her　at　Delving。
　　　　　　　Of　course　the　thing　was　not　truly　pulsion　as　ancient　texts　described　it。　The　weaving　went　with　painful　slowness；　cobbled　together　as　it　was；　and　there　was　that　need　for　a　reason。　It　helped　a　great　deal　if　the　object　of　the　weave　was　emotionally　vulnerable；　but　trust　was　absolutely　essential。　Even　catching　someone　by　surprise　did　no　good　if　they　were　suspicious。　That　fact　cut　down　its　usefulness　with　men　considerably；　very　few　men　lacked　suspicion　around　Aes　Sedai。
　　　　　　　Distrust　aside；　men　were　very　bad　subjects；　unfortunately。　She　could　not　understand　why。　Most　of　those　girls'　weaves　had　been　intended　for　their　fathers　or　other　men。　Any　strong　personality　might　begin　to　question　his　own　actions　…　or　even　forget　doing　them；　which　led　to　another　set　of　problems　…　but　all　things　being　equal；　men　were　much　more　likely　to。　Much　more　likely。　Perhaps　it　was　the　suspicion　again。　Why；　once　a　ma