rj.thepathofdaggers-第66部分

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seen　better　days；　his　armor　battered；　its　gilding　chipped。　His　face　was　gaunt　and　hard；　the　front　of　his　head　shaved　and　powdered　like　a　mon　soldier；　and　his　dark　eyes　shone　with　contempt　for　the　taller　Tairens。
　　　　　　　There　was　plenty　of　contempt　to　go　around。　Tairens　and　Cairhienin　hated　one　another。　Illianers　and　Tairens　despised　each　other。　Only　Cairhienin　and　Illianers　got　along　to　any　degree；　and　there　was　a　certain　amount　of　prickle　even　there。　Their　two　nations　might　not　have　near　the　long　history　of　bad　blood　shared　by　Tear　and　Illian；　yet　the　Cairhienin　still　were　foreigners；　armed　and　armored　on　Illian's　soil；　weled　halfheartedly　at　best　and　only　that　much　because　they　followed　Rand。　But　despite　all　the　frowning　and　bristling　and　trying　to　talk　at　once　as　they　milled　about　Rand　in　a　flurry　of　windblown　cloaks；　they　had　a　mon　goal　now。　After　a　fashion。
　　　　　　　〃Majesty；〃　Gregorin　said　hastily；　bowing　in　his　gold…tooled　saddle；　〃I　do　beg　you　let　me　go　in　your　stead；　or　First　Captain　Marcolin。〃　The　square…cut　beard　that　left　his　upper　lip　bare　framed　a　round　face　creased　with　worry。　〃These　men　must　know　you　are　King　…　the　proclamations　do　be　read　in　every　village；　at　every　crossroads；　as　we　do　speak　…　yet　they　may　no　show　proper　respect　for　your　crown。〃　Lantern…jawed　Marcolin；　clean…shaven；　studied　Rand　with　dark；　deep…set　eyes；　giving　no　hint　what　lay　behind　his　impassive　face。　The　panions'　loyalty　was　to　the　crown　of　Illian；　and　Marcolin　was　old　enough　to　remember　when　Tarn　al'Thor　had　been　Second　Captain　over　him；　but　only　he　knew　what　he　thought　of　Rand　al'Thor　as　King。
　　　　　　　〃My　Lord　Dragon；〃　Weiramon　intoned　as　he　made　his　bow；　not　waiting　for　Gregorin　to　finish。　The　man　always　intoned；　and　even　on　horseback　he　seemed　to　strut。　His　worked　velvets　and　striped　silks　and　falls　of　lace　almost　overwhelmed　his　armor；　and　his　pointed　gray　beard　gave　off　a　flowery　scent　of　perfumed　oils。　〃This　rabble　is　too　petty　to　concern　the　Lord　Dragon　personally。　Set　dogs　to　catch　dogs；　I　say。　Let　the　Illianers　root　them　out。　Burn　my　soul；　they've　done　nothing　so　far　to　serve　you　but　talk。〃　Trust　him　to　turn　agreement　with　Gregorin　into　an　insult。　Tolmeran　was　lean　enough　to　make　Weiramon　appear　bulky　and　somber　enough　to　dim　the　luster　of　his　garb；　he　was　no　fool；　and　rival　to　Weiramon　besides；　yet　he　nodded　slowly　in　agreement。　No　love　lost　there　for　Illianers；　at　all。
　　　　　　　Semaradrid　curled　a　lip　at　the　Tairens　but　addressed　himself　to　Rand；　cutting　in　hard　on　Weiramon's　heels。　〃This　gathering　is　ten　times　as　large　any　other　we　have　found　so　far；　my　Lord　Dragon。〃　He　cared　nothing　for　the　King　of　Illian；　and　little　enough　for　the　Dragon　Reborn；　except　that　the　throne　of　Cairhien　was　Rand's　to　give；　and　Semaradrid　hoped　it　would　be　given　to　one　he　could　follow　instead　of　fight。　〃Their　loyalties　must　be　to　Brend；　or　so　many　would　not　have　held　together。　I　fear　talking　to　them　is　a　waste　of　time；　but　if　you　must　talk；　let　me　ring　their　position　openly　with　steel　so　they　know　the　price　of　putting　a　foot　out　of　line。〃
　　　　　　　Rosana　glared　right　back　at　Semaradrid；　a　lean　woman；　not　tall　yet　nearly　as　tall　as　he；　with　eyes　like　blue　ice。　She　did　not　wait　for　him　to　finish；　either；　and　she；　too；　spoke　to　Rand。　〃I've　e　too　far　and　invested　too　much　in　you　to　see　you　die　now；　for　nothing；〃　she　said　bluntly。　No　more　a　fool　than　Tolmeran；　Rosana　had　claimed　a　place　in　the　councils　of　the　High　Lords；　though　Tairen　High　Ladies　seldom　did；　and　blunt　was　the　word　for　her。　Despite　the　armor　most　of　the　noblewomen　wore；　none　actually　led　their　armsmen　into　battle；　yet　Rosana　carried　a　flanged　mace　on　her　saddle；　and　sometimes　Rand　thought　she　would　like　a　chance　to　use　it。　〃I　doubt　those　Illianers　lack　for　bows；〃　she　said；　〃and　it　takes　only　one　arrow　to　kill　even　the　Dragon　Reborn。〃　Pursing　his　lips　thoughtfully；　Marcolin　nodded　before　catching　himself；　then　exchanged　startled　looks　with　Rosana；　each　more　surprised　than　the　other　to　find　themselves　of　like　mind　with　an　ancient　enemy。
　　　　　　　〃These　peasants　could　never　have　found　the　mettle　to　stay　under　arms　without　encouragement；〃　Weiramon　continued　smoothly；　ignoring　Rosana。　He　was　skilled　at　ignoring　who；　and　what；　he　did　not　want　to　see　or　hear。　He　was　a　fool。　〃May　I　suggest　my　Lord　Dragon　look　to　these　so…called　Nine　for　the　source？〃
　　　　　　　〃I　do　protest　this　Tairen　pig's　insults；　Majesty！〃　Gregorin　growled　right　atop　him；　one　hand　darting　to　his　sword。　〃I　do　protest　most　heartily！〃
　　　　　　　〃There　are　too　many　this　time；〃　Semaradrid　said　at　the　same　instant。　〃Most　will　turn　against　you　as　soon　as　your　back　is　to　them　in　any　case。〃　By　his　pointed　frown；　he　might　have　been　speaking　of　the　Tairens　as　well　as　the　men　on　the　wooded　hills。　Perhaps　he　was。　〃Better　to　kill　them　and　be　done！〃
　　　　　　　〃Did　I　ask　for　opinions？〃　Rand　snapped　harshly。　Babble　became　silence；　except　for　the　crack　of　cloaks　and　banners　flapping　in　the　wind。　Suddenly　expressionless　faces　regarded　him；　more　than　one　going　gray。　They　did　not　know　he　held　the　Power；　but　they　knew　him。　Not　all　of　what　they　knew　was　truth；　but　it　was　just　as　well　they　believed。　〃You　will　e　with　me；　Gregorin；〃　he　said　in　a　more　normal　voice。　Still　hard；　though。　Steel　was　all　they　understood；　go　soft；　and　they　would　turn　on　him。　〃And　you；　Marcolin。　The　rest　stay　here。　Dashiva！　Hopwil！〃
　　　　　　　Everyone　not　named　reined　their　horses　back　hurriedly　as　the　two　Asha'man　rode　to　join　Rand；　and　the　Illianers　eyed　the　black…coated　men　as　though　they　would　have　liked　to　remain　behind；　too。　Aside　from　anything　else；　Corlan　Dashiva　was　glowering　and　muttering　under　his　breath　as　he　so　often　did。　Everyone　was　aware　that　saidin　drove　men　mad　sooner　or　later；　and　plain…faced　Dashiva　certainly　looked　the　part；　lank　untrimmed　hair　flying　in　the　wind；　licking　his　lips　and　shaking　his　head。　For　that　matter；　Eben　Hopwil；　just　sixteen　and　still　with　a　few　scattered　blotches　on　his　cheeks；　wore　a　staring　frown　that　gazed　beyond　anything　in　sight。　At　least　Rand　knew　the　why　of　that。
　　　　　　　As　the　Asha'man　drew　near；　Rand　could　not　help　cocking　his　head　to　listen；　though　what　he　listened　for　was　inside　his　head。　Alanna　was　there；　of　course；　neither　the　Void　nor　the　Power　altered　that　a　whisker。　Distance　wore　that　awareness　down　to　just　that　…　awareness　that　she　existed；　somewhere　far　to　the　north　…　yet　there　was　something　more　today；　something　he　had　felt　several　times　recently；　dim　and　barely　on　the　edge　of　notice。　A　whisper　of　shock；　perhaps；　or　outrage；　a　breath　of　something　sharp　he　could　not　quite　grasp。　She　must　feel　whatever　it　was　very　strongly　for　him　to　be　even　that　conscious　of　it　at　this　distance。　Maybe　she　was　missing　him。　A　wry　thought。　He　did　not　miss　her。　Ignoring　Alanna　was　easier　than　it　had　been　once。　She　was　there；　but　not　the　voice　that　used　to　shout　of　death　and　killing　whenever　an　Asha'man　came　into　sight。　Lews　Therin　was　gone。　Unless　that　feel　of　someone　staring　at　the　back　of　his　head；　brushing　his　shoulder　blades　with　a　finger；　was　him。　Was　there　a　madman's　hoarse　laughter　deep　in　his　thoughts？　Or　was　it　his　own？　The　man　had　been　there！　He　had！
　　　　　　　He　became　aware　of　Marcolin　staring　at　him；　and　Gregorin　trying　very　hard　not　to。　〃Not　yet；〃　he　told　them　wryly；　and　almost　laughed　when　they　clearly　understood　right　away。　Relief　was　too　plain　on　their　faces　for　anything　else。　He　was　not　insane。　Yet。　〃e；〃　he　told　them；　and　started　Tai'daishar　down　the　slope　at　a　trot。　Despite　the　men　following；　he　felt　alone。　Despite　the　Power；　he　felt　empty。
　　　　　　　Between　the　ridge　and　the　hills　lay　patches　of　thick　scrub　and　long　stretches　of　dead　grass；　a　glistening　mat　of　brown　and　yellow　beaten　flat　by　the　rain。　Only　a　few　days　ago　the　ground　had　been　so　parched　that　he　had　thought　it　could　drink　a　river　without　changing。　Then　the　torrents　came；　sent　by　the　Creator　finding　mercy　at　last；　or　maybe　by　the　Dark　One　in　a　fit　of　black　humor；　he　did　not　know　which。　Now　the　horses'　hooves　splashed　mud　at　every　second　step。　He　hoped　this　did　not　take　long。　He　had　some　time；　by　what　Hopwil　had　reported；　but　not　forever。　Perhaps　weeks；　if　he　was　lucky。　He　needed　months。　Light；　he　needed　years　he　would　never　have！
　　　　　　　His　hearing　heightened　by　the　Power；　he　could　make　out　some　of　what　the　men　behind　him　were　saying。　Gregorin　and　Marcolin　rode　knee…to…knee；　trying　to　hold　their　cloaks　against　the　wind　and　speaking　in　low　tones　about　the　men　ahead；　about　their　fears　the　men　might　fight。　Neither　doubted　they　would　be　crushed　if　they　resisted；　but　they　feared　the　effect　on　Rand；　and　his　on　Illian；　if　Illianers　fought　him　now　that　Brend　was　dead。　They　still　could　not　bring　themselves　to　give　Brend　his　true　name；　Sammael。　The　very　notion　that　one　of　the　Forsaken　had　ruled　in　Illian　frightened　them　even　more　than　the　fact　that　the　Dragon　Reborn　ruled　there　now。
　　　　　　　Dashiva；　slumped　in　his　gray's　saddle　like　a　man　who　had　never　seen　a　horse　before；　muttered　angrily　under　his　breath。　In　the　Old　Tongue；　which　he　spoke　and　read　as　fluently　as　a　scholar。　Rand　knew　a　little；　though　not　enough　to　understand　what　the　fellow　was　mumbling。　Probably　plaints　about　the　weather；　despite　being　a　farmer；　Dashiva　disliked　being　out…of…doors　unless　the　skies　were　clear。
　　　　　　　Only　H