rj.thepathofdaggers-第8部分

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　　　　　　　Across　the　harbor　the　wind　roared；　tossing　small　ships　and　large；　across　the　city　itself；　gleaming　white　beneath　the　unfettered　sun；　spires　and　walls　and　color…ringed　domes；　streets　and　canals　bustling　with　the　storied　southern　industry。　Around　the　shining　domes　and　slender　towers　of　the　Tarasin　Palace　the　wind　swirled；　carrying　the　tang　of　salt；　lifting　the　flag　of　Altara；　two　golden　leopards　on　a　field　of　red　and　blue；　and　the　banners　of　ruling　House　Mitsobar；　the　Sword　and　Anchor；　green　on　white。　Not　yet　the　storm；　but　a　harbinger　of　storms。
　　　　　　　Skin　prickled　between　Aviendha's　shoulder　blades　as　she　strode　ahead　of　her　panions　through　palace　hallways　tiled　in　dozens　of　pleasing　bright　hues。　A　sense　of　being　watched　that　she　had　last　felt　while　still　wed　to　the　spear。　Imagination；　she　told　herself。　Imagination　and　knowing　there　are　enemies　about　I　cannot　face！　Not　so　long　ago　that　crawling　sensation　had　meant　someone　might　be　intending　to　kill　her。　Death　was　nothing　to　fear　…　everyone　died；　today　or　on　another　…　but　she　did　not　want　to　die　like　a　rabbit　kicking　in　a　snare。　She　had　toh　to　meet。
　　　　　　　Servants　scurried　by　close　along　the　walls；　bobbing　bows　and　curtsies；　dropping　their　eyes　almost　as　if　they　understood　the　shame　of　the　lives　they　lived；　yet　surely　it　could　not　be　them　that　made　her　want　to　twist　her　shoulders。　She　had　tried　schooling　herself　to　see　servants；　but　even　now；　with　the　skin　creeping　on　her　back；　her　gaze　slid　around　them。　It　had　to　be　imagination；　and　nerves。　This　was　a　day　for　imagination　and　nerves。
　　　　　　　Unlike　the　servants；　rich　silk　tapestries　snagged　at　her　eye；　and　the　gilded　stand…lamps　and　ceiling　lamps　lining　the　corridors。　Paper…thin　porcelain　in　reds　and　yellows　and　greens　and　blues　stood　in　wall　niches　and　tall　openwork　cabinets　alongside　ornaments　of　gold　and　silver；　ivory　and　crystal；　scores　upon　scores　of　bowls　and　vases　and　caskets　and　statuettes。　Only　the　most　beautiful　truly　caught　her　gaze；　whatever　wetlanders　thought；　beauty　held　more　worth　than　gold。　There　was　much　beauty　here。　She　would　not　have　minded　taking　her　share　of　the　fifth　from　this　place。
　　　　　　　Vexed　with　herself；　she　frowned。　That　was　not　an　honorable　thought　beneath　a　roof　that　had　offered　her　shade　and　water　freely。　Without　ceremony；　true；　but　also　without　debt　or　blood；　steel　or　need。　Yet　better　that　than　thinking　about　a　small　boy　alone　somewhere　out　in　this　corrupt　city。　Any　city　was　corrupt　…　of　that　much　she　was　certain；　now；　having　seen　some　part　of　four　…　but　Ebou　Dar　was　the　last　where　she　would　have　let　a　child　run　loose。　What　she　could　not　understand　was　why　thoughts　of　Olver　came　unless　she　worked　to　avoid　them。　He　was　no　part　of　the　toh　she　had　to　Elayne；　and　to　Rand　al'Thor。　A　Shaido　spear　had　taken　his　father；　starvation　and　hardship　his　mother；　yet　had　it　been　her　own　spear　that　took　both；　the　boy　was　still　a　treekiller；　Cairhienin。　Why　should　she　fret　over　a　child　from　that　blood？　Why？　She　attempted　to　concentrate　on　the　weave　she　was　to　make；　but　although　she　had　practiced　under　Elayne's　eye　until　she　could　have　formed　it　sleeping；　Olver's　wide…mouthed　face　intruded。　Birgitte　worried　about　him　even　more　than　she；　but　Birgitte's　breast　held　a　strangely　soft　heart　for　small　boys；　especially　ugly　ones。
　　　　　　　Sighing；　Aviendha　gave　up　trying　to　ignore　her　panions'　conversation　behind　her；　though　irritation　crackled　through　it　like　heat　lightning。　Even　that　was　better　than　upsetting　herself　over　a　son　of　treekillers。　Oathbreakers。　A　despised　blood　the　world　would　be　better　off　without。　No　concern　or　worry　of　hers。　None。　Mat　Cauthon　would　find　the　boy　in　any　case。　He　could　find　anything；　it　seemed。　And　listening　settled　her；　somehow。　The　prickling　faded　away。
　　　　　　　〃I　don't　like　it　one　bit！〃　Nynaeve　was　muttering；　continuing　an　argument　begun　back　in　their　rooms。　〃Not　a　bit；　Lan；　do　you　hear　me？〃　She　had　announced　her　dislike　at　least　twenty　times　already；　but　Nynaeve　never　surrendered　just　because　she　had　lost。　Short　and　dark…eyed；　she　strode　fiercely；　kicking　her　divided　blue　skirts；　one　hand　rising　to　hover　near　her　thick；　waist…long　braid；　then　thrust　down　firmly　before　rising　again。　Nynaeve　kept　a　tight　hold　on　anger　and　irritation　when　Lan　was　around。　Or　tried　to。　An　inordinate　pride　filled　her　about　marrying　him。　The　close…fitting　embroidered　blue　coat　over　her　yellow…slashed　silk　riding　dress　hung　open；　showing　far　too　much　bosom　in　the　wetlander　way；　just　so　she　could　display　his　heavy　gold　finger　ring　on　a　fine　chain　around　her　neck。　〃You　have　no　right　to　promise　to　take　care　of　me　like　that；　Lan　Mandragoran；〃　she　went　on　firmly。　〃I　am　not　a　porcelain　figurine！〃
　　　　　　　He　paced　at　her　side；　a　man　of　proper　size；　towering　head　and　shoulders　and　more　above　her；　the　eye…wrenching　cloak　of　a　Warder　hanging　down　his　back。　His　face　seemed　hacked　from　stone；　and　his　gaze　weighed　the　threat　in　every　servant　who　passed；　examined　every　crossing　corridor　and　wall　niche　for　hidden　attackers。　Readiness　radiated　from　him；　a　lion　on　the　brink　of　his　charge。　Aviendha　had　grown　up　around　dangerous　men；　but　never　one　to　match　Aan'allein。　Had　death　been　a　man；　she　would　have　been　him。
　　　　　　　〃You　are　Aes　Sedai；　and　I　am　a　Warder；〃　he　said　in　a　deep；　level　voice。　〃Taking　care　of　you　is　my　duty。〃　His　tone　softened；　conflicting　sharply　with　his　angular　face　and　bleak；　never…changing　eyes。　〃Besides；　caring　for　you　is　my　heart's　desire；　Nynaeve。　You　can　ask　or　demand　anything　of　me；　but　never　to　let　you　die　without　trying　to　save　you。　The　day　you　die；　I　die。〃
　　　　　　　That　last　he　had　not　said　before；　not　in　Aviendha's　hearing；　and　it　hit　Nynaeve　like　a　blow　to　the　stomach；　her　eyes　started　half　out　of　her　head；　and　her　mouth　worked　soundlessly。　She　appeared　to　recover　quickly；　though；　as　always。　Pretending　to　resettle　her　blue…plumed　hat；　a　ridiculous　thing　like　a　strange　bird　roosting　atop　her　head；　she　shot　a　glance　at　him　from　beneath　the　wide　brim。
　　　　　　　Aviendha　had　begun　to　suspect　that　the　other　woman　often　used　silence　and　supposedly　significant　looks　to　cover　ignorance。　She　suspected　Nynaeve　knew　little　more　about　men；　about　dealing　with　one　man；　than　she　did　herself。　Facing　them　with　knives　and　spears　was　much　easier　than　loving　one。　Much　easier。　How　did　women　manage　being　married　to　them？　Aviendha　had　a　desperate　need　to　learn；　and　no　idea　how。　Married　to　Aan'allein　only　a　day；　Nynaeve　had　changed　much　more　than　simply　in　trying　to　control　her　temper。　She　seemed　to　flit　from　startlement　to　shock；　however　much　she　attempted　to　hide　it。　She　fell　into　dreaminess　at　odd　moments；　blushed　at　innocuous　questions；　and　…　she　denied　this　fiercely；　even　when　Aviendha　had　seen　her　…　she　giggled　over　nothing　at　all。　There　was　no　point　in　trying　to　learn　anything　from　Nynaeve。
　　　　　　　〃I　suppose　you're　going　to　tell　me　about　Warders　and　Aes　Sedai　again；　as　well；〃　Elayne　said　coolly　to　Birgitte。　〃Well；　you　and　I　aren't　married。　I　expect　you　to　guard　my　back；　but　I　will　not　have　you　making　promises　about　me　behind　it。〃　Elayne　wore　garments　as　inappropriate　as　Nynaeve's；　a　gold…embroidered　Ebou　Dari　riding　dress　of　green　silk；　suitably　high…necked　but　with　an　oval　opening　that　bared　the　inner　slopes　of　her　breasts。　Wetlanders　spluttered　at　the　mention　of　a　sweat　tent　or　being　unclothed　in　front　of　gai'shain；　then　walked　about　half…exposed　where　any　stranger　could　see。　Aviendha　did　not　really　mind　for　Nynaeve；　but　Elayne　was　her　near…sister。　And　would　be　more；　she　hoped。
　　　　　　　The　raised　heels　of　Birgitte's　boots　made　her　almost　a　hand　taller　than　Nynaeve；　if　still　shorter　than　Elayne　or　Aviendha。　In　dark　blue　coat　and　wide　green　trousers；　she　carried　herself　with　much　of　the　same　warily　confident　readiness　as　Lan；　though　it　seemed　more　casual　in　her。　A　leopard　lying　on　a　rock；　and　not　nearly　so　lazy　as　she　appeared。　There　was　no　arrow　nocked　in　the　bow　Birgitte　carried；　but　for　all　her　stroll　and　smiles；　she　could　have　a　shaft　out　of　the　quiver　at　her　waist　before　anyone　could　blink；　and　be　loosing　her　third　before　anybody　else　could　have　fitted　a　second　to　bowstring。
　　　　　　　She　gave　Elayne　a　wry　grin　and　a　shake　of　her　head　that　swung　a　golden　braid　as　long　and　thick　as　Nynaeve's　dark　one。　〃I　promised　to　your　face；　not　behind　your　back；〃　she　said　dryly。　〃When　you've　learned　a　little　more；　I　won't　have　to　tell　you　about　Warders　and　Aes　Sedai。〃　Elayne　sniffed　and　lifted　her　chin　haughtily；　busying　herself　with　the　ribbons　of　her　hat；　which　was　covered　with　long　green　plumes　and　worse　than　Nynaeve's。　〃Perhaps　a　great　deal　more；〃　Birgitte　added。　〃You're　tying　another　knot　in　that　bow。〃
　　　　　　　Had　Elayne　not　been　her　near…sister；　Aviendha　would　have　laughed　at　the　crimson　that　flooded　her　cheeks。　Tripping　someone　who　tried　to　walk　too　high　was　always　fun；　or　watching　it　done；　and　even　a　short　fall　was　worth　a　laugh。　As　it　was；　she　leveled　a　firm　stare　at　Birgitte；　a　promise　that　more　might　bring　retribution。　She　liked　the　woman　despite　all　her　secrets；　but　the　difference　between　a　friend　and　a　near…sister　was　a　thing　these　wetlanders　seemed　unable　to　prehend。　Birgitte　only　smiled；　glancing　from　her　to　Elayne；　and　murmured　under　her　breath。　Aviendha　caught　the　word　〃kittens。〃　Worse；　it　sounded　fond。　Everyone　must　have　heard。　Everyone！
　　　　　　　〃What's　gotten　into　you；　Aviendha？〃　Nynaeve　demanded；　prodding　her　shoulder　with　a　stiff　finger。　〃Do　you　intend　to　stand　there　blushing　all　day？　We　are　in　a　hurry。〃
　　　　　　　Only　then　did　Aviendha　realize　by　the　heat　in　her　face　that　she　must　be　as　red　as　Elayne。　And　standing　still　as　stone　besides；　when　they　had　need　for　haste。　Cut　by　a　word；　like　a　girl　newly　wedded　to　the　spear　and　unused　to　the　banter　among　Maidens。　She　had　almost　twenty　years；　and　she　was　behaving　like　a　child　playing　with　her　first　bow。　That　added　flames　to　her　cheeks。　Which　was　why　she　all　but　leaped　around　the　next　turning　and　very　nearly　ran　headlong　into　Teslyn　Baradon。
　　　　　　　Skidding　awkwardly　on　red…and…green　floor　tiles；　Aviendha　half…fell　backward；　catching　herself　against　Elayne　and　Nynaeve。　This　time　she　managed　not　to　blush　herself　to　fire；　but　she　wanted　to。　She　was　shaming　her　near…sister　as　much　as　herself。　Elayne　always　held　her　posure；　no　matter　what。　Luckily；　Teslyn　Baradon　took　the　e