rj.thepathofdaggers-第69部分

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t　of　the　clothes　they　owned；　had　begun　striking　tents　and　loading　wagons　automatically　as　soon　as　they　finished　their　hasty　meal；　and　were　now　stumbling　about　to　raise　the　tents　and　haul　chests　out　of　the　wagons。　Animals　that　had　been　being　harnessed　were　now　being　led　away　by　weary　horse…handlers　who　walked　with　heads　down。　Egwene　heard　a　few　grumbles　from　men　who　failed　to　notice　there　were　sisters　nearby；　but　the　greater　number　seemed　too　tired　to　voice　a　plaint。
　　　　　　　Most　of　the　Aes　Sedai　whose　tents　were　up　had　vanished　inside；　but　a　good　many　still　directed　workers；　and　others　hurried　along　the　sunken　paths　on　errands　of　their　own。　Unlike　everyone　else；　they　showed　as　little　outward　weariness　as　the　Warders；　who　somehow　managed　to　appear　as　if　they　had　had　all　the　sleep　they　needed　for　this　fine　spring　day。　Egwene　suspected　that　was　a　real　part　of　how　a　sister　drew　strength　from　her　Warder；　quite　aside　from　what　she　could　do　with　the　bond。　When　your　Warder　would　not　admit　to　himself　that　he　was　cold　or　tired　or　hungry；　you　just　had　to　bear　up　as　well。
　　　　　　　On　one　of　the　crossing　paths；　Morvrin　appeared；　clutching　Takima's　arm。　Perhaps　it　was　for　support；　though　Morvrin　was　wide　enough　to　make　the　shorter　woman　seem　more　diminutive　than　she　actually　was。　Perhaps　it　was　to　keep　Takima　from　escaping；　Morvrin　was　dogged　once　she　set　a　goal。　Egwene　frowned。　Morvrin　might　well　be　expected　to　seek　out　a　Sitter　for　her　Ajah；　the　Brown；　yet　Egwene　would　have　thought　Janya　or　Escaralde　more　likely。　The　two　passed　out　of　sight　behind　a　canvas…topped　wagon　on　runners；　Morvrin　bending　to　talk　in　her　panion's　ear。　There　was　no　way　to　tell　whether　Takima　was　paying　any　mind。
　　　　　　　〃Is　something　the　matter；　Mother？〃
　　　　　　　Egwene　put　on　a　smile　that　felt　tight。　〃No　more　than　usual；　Sheriam。　No　more　than　usual。〃
　　　　　　　At　the　Amyrlin's　Study；　Sheriam　departed　to　see　to　the　tasks　Egwene　had　given　her；　and　Egwene　went　in　to　find　everything　in　readiness。　She　would　have　been　surprised　at　anything　else。　Selame　was　just　setting　a　tea　tray　on　the　writing　table。　Brightly　colored　beadwork　ran　across　the　rail…thin　woman's　bodice　and　down　her　sleeves；　and　with　her　long　nose　carried　high；　she　hardly　seemed　a　servant　at　first　glance；　but　she　had　seen　to　what　needed　doing。　Two　braziers　full　of　glowing　coals　had　taken　some　of　the　chill　off　the　air；　though　most　of　the　heat　rushed　out　through　the　smoke　hole。　Dried　herbs　sprinkled　on　the　coals　gave　a　pleasant　scent　to　the　smoke　that　did　not　escape；　the　tray　from　the　night　before　was　gone；　and　the　lantern　and　tallow　candles　had　been　trimmed　and　lit。　No　one　was　about　to　leave　a　tent　open　enough　to　let　in　light　from　outside。
　　　　　　　Siuan　was　already　there；　too；　with　a　stack　of　papers　in　her　hands；　a　harried　expression　on　her　face；　and　a　smudge　of　ink　on　her　nose。　The　post　of　secretary　provided　the　two　of　them　another　reason　to　be　seen　talking；　and　Sheriam　had　not　minded　at　all　giving　up　the　work。　Siuan　herself　grumbled　frequently；　however。　For　a　woman　who　had　seldom　left　the　Tower　since　entering　as　a　novice；　she　had　a　remarkable　dislike　for　staying　inside。　At　the　moment　she　was　the　picture　of　a　woman　being　patient　and　wanting　everyone　to　know　it。
　　　　　　　For　all　her　high　nose；　Selame　simpered　and　bobbed　so　many　curtsies　that　taking　Egwene's　cloak　and　mittens　turned　into　an　elaborate　little　ceremony。　The　woman　nattered　on　about　the　Mother　putting　her　feet　up；　and　perhaps　she　should　fetch　the　Mother　a　lap　robe；　and　maybe　she　should　stay　in　case　the　Mother　wanted　anything　else；　until　Egwene　practically　chased　her　out。　The　tea　tasted　of　mint。　In　this　weather！　Selame　was　a　trial；　and　she　could　hardly　be　called　loyal；　but　she　did　try。
　　　　　　　There　was　no　time　for　lounging　and　sipping　tea；　though。　Egwene　straightened　her　stole　and　took　her　place　behind　the　writing　desk；　absentmindedly　giving　a　yank　to　the　leg　of　her　chair　so　it　would　not　fold　beneath　her　as　it　often　did；　Siuan　perched　atop　a　rickety　stool　on　the　other　side　of　the　table；　and　the　tea　cooled。　They　did　not　speak　of　plans；　or　Gareth　Bryne；　or　hopes；　what　could　be　done　there　for　now；　had　been。　Reports　and　problems　piled　up　when　they　were　on　the　move　and　weariness　overcame　attempts　to　deal　with　them；　and　now　that　they　were　stopped；　all　had　to　be　gone　through。　An　army　ahead　did　not　change　that。
　　　　　　　At　times；　Egwene　wondered　how　so　much　paper　could　be　found　when　everything　else　seemed　so　difficult。　The　reports　Siuan　handed　her　detailed　shortages　and　little　else。　Not　simply　those　Sheriam　had　mentioned；　but　coal　and　nails　and　iron　for　the　farriers　and　wheelwrights；　leather　and　oiled　thread　for　the　harness…makers；　lamp　oil　and　candles　and　a　hundred　other　things；　even　soap。　And　whatever　was　not　running　out　was　wearing　out；　from　shoes　to　tents；　all　listed　in　Siuan's　bold　hand；　which　grew　more　aggressive　the　more　glaring　the　need　she　wrote　about。　Her　account　of　the　coin　remaining　looked　to　have　been　slashed　onto　the　paper　in　a　positive　fury。　And　not　a　thing　to　be　done　about　it。
　　　　　　　Among　Siuan's　papers　were　several　addresses　from　Sitters　suggesting　ways　to　solve　the　problem　of　money。　Or　rather；　informing　Egwene　what　they　intended　to　lay　before　the　Hall。　There　were　few　advantages　to　any　of　the　schemes；　however；　and　many　pitfalls。　Moria　Karentanis　proposed　stopping　the　soldiers'　pay；　a　notion　Egwene　thought　the　Hall　had　already　realized　would　cause　the　army　to　melt　away　like　dew　under　a　midsummer　sun。　Malind　Nachenin　presented　an　appeal　to　nearby　nobles　that　sounded　more　a　demand　and　might　well　turn　the　whole　countryside　against　them；　as　would　Salita　Toranes'　intention　to　levy　a　tax　on　the　towns　and　villages　they　passed。
　　　　　　　Crumpling　the　three　addresses　together　in　her　fist；　Egwene　shook　them　at　Siuan。　She　wished　it　were　three　Sitters'　throats　she　was　gripping。　〃Do　they　all　think　everything　has　to　go　the　way　they　wish；　and　never　mind　realities？　Light；　they're　the　ones　behaving　like　children！〃
　　　　　　　〃The　Tower　has　managed　to　makes　its　wishes　bee　realities　often　enough；〃　Siuan　said　placently。　〃Remember；　some　would　say　you're　ignoring　reality；　too。〃
　　　　　　　Egwene　sniffed。　Luckily；　whatever　the　Hall　voted；　none　of　the　proposals　could　be　carried　forward　without　a　decree　from　her。　Even　in　her　straitened　circumstances；　she　had　a　little　power。　Very　little；　but　that　was　more　than　none。　〃Is　the　Hall　always　this　bad；　Siuan？〃
　　　　　　　Siuan　nodded；　shifting　slightly　to　try　to　find　a　better　balance。　No　two　of　her　stool's　legs　were　the　same　length。　〃But　it　could　be　worse。　Remind　me　to　tell　you　about　the　Year　of　the　Four　Amyrlins；　that　was　about　a　hundred　and　fifty　years　after　the　founding　of　Tar　Valon。　In　those　days；　the　normal　workings　of　the　Tower　nearly　rivaled　what's　happening　today。　Every　hand　tried　to　snatch　the　tiller；　if　they　could。　There　were　actually　two　rival　Halls　of　the　Tower　in　Tar　Valon　for　part　of　that　year。　Almost　like　now。　Just　about　everyone　came　to　grief　in　the　end；　including　a　few　who　thought　they　were　going　to　save　the　Tower。　Some　of　them　might　have；　if　they　hadn't　stepped　in　quicksand。　The　Tower　survived　anyway；　of　course。　It　always　does。〃
　　　　　　　A　great　deal　of　history　grew　up　in　over　three　thousand　years；　much　suppressed；　hidden　from　all　but　a　few　eyes；　yet　Siuan　seemed　to　have　every　detail　at　her　fingertips。　She　must　have　spent　a　good　part　of　her　years　in　the　Tower　burying　herself　in　those　secret　histories。　Of　one　thing；　Egwene　was　certain。　She　would　avoid　Shein's　fate　if　she　could；　but　she　would　not　remain　as　she　was；　little　better　off　than　Cemaile　Sorenthaine。　Long　before　the　end　of　her　reign；　the　most　important　decision　left　to　Cemaile's　discretion　was　what　dress　to　wear。　She　was　going　to　have　to　ask　Siuan　to　tell　her　about　the　Year　of　the　Four　Amyrlins；　and　she　did　not　look　forward　to　it。
　　　　　　　The　shifting　beam　of　light　from　the　smoke　hole　in　the　roof　showed　morning　toward　midday；　but　Siuan's　stack　of　papers　seemed　hardly　diminished。　Any　interruption　at　all　would　have　been　wele；　even　premature　discovery。　Well；　maybe　not　that。
　　　　　　　〃What's　next；　Siuan？〃　she　growled。
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　A　flicker　of　movement　caught　Aran'gar's　eye；　and　she　peered　through　the　trees　toward　the　army's　camp；　an　obscuring　ring　around　the　tents　of　the　Aes　Sedai。　A　line　of　wagon…sledges　was　moving　slowly　east；　escorted　by　men　on　horseback。　The　pale　sun　glinted　from　armor　and　the　points　of　lances。　She　could　not　help　sneering。　Spears　and　horses！　A　primitive　rabble　that　could　move　no　faster　than　a　man　could　walk；　led　by　a　man　who　did　not　know　what　was　happening　a　hundred　miles　away。　Aes　Sedai？　She　could　destroy　the　lot　of　them；　and　even　dying　they　would　never　suspect　who　was　killing　them。　Of　course；　she　would　not　survive　them　long。　That　thought　made　her　shiver。　The　Great　Lord　gave　very　few　a　second　chance　at　life；　and　she　was　not　about　to　throw　away　hers。
　　　　　　　Waiting　until　the　riders　moved　out　of　sight　into　the　forest；　she　started　back　toward　the　camp；　thinking　idly　of　tonight's　dreams。　Behind　her；　smooth　snow　would　hide　what　she　had　buried　until　the　spring　thaw；　more　than　long　enough。　Ahead；　some　of　the　men　in　the　camp　finally　noticed　her　and　straightened　from　their　tasks　to　watch。　In　spite　of　herself；　she　smiled　and　smoothed　her　skirt　over　her　hips。　It　was　difficult　now　to　really　remember　what　life　had　been　like　as　a　man；　had　she　been　such　an　easily　manipulated　fool；　then？　Getting　through　that　swarm　with　a　corpse　unseen　had　been　difficult；　even　for　her；　but　she　enjoyed　the　walk　back。
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　The　morning　went　on　in　a　seemingly　endless　wading　through　paper；　until　what　Egwene　had　known　would　happen；　did。　Certain　daily　events　were　sure。　There　would　be　bitter　cold；　there　would　be　snow；　there　would　be　clouds；　and　gray　skies；　and　wind。　And　there　would　be　visits　from　Lelaine　and　Romanda。
　　　　　　　Weary　of　sitting；　Egwene　was　stretching　her　legs　when　Lelaine　swept　into　the　tent　with　Faolain　at　her　heels。　Frigid　air　rolled　in　with　them　before　the　tentflap　fell　shut。　Looking　around　with　a　faintly　disapproving　air；　Lelaine　plucked　off　blue　leather　gloves　while　allowing　Faolain　to　remove　the　lynx…lined　cloak　from　her　shoulders。　Slender　and　dignified　in　deep　blue　silk；　with　penetrating　eyes；　she　might　have　been　in　her　own　tent。　At　a　casual　gesture；　Faolain　retreat