rj.acrownofswords-第84部分

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er　choice。　Though　the　woman　did　have　odd；　unsound　notions　on　several　points　of　logic。　〃Moghedien　has　forgotten　us；　Ispan。　Or　have　you　received　some　private　word　from　her？　In　any　case；　I　am　convinced　this　cache　does　not　exist。〃
　　　〃Moghedien；　she　says　that　it　does。〃　Ispan　began　firmly；　but　her　voice　quickly　grew　warm。　〃A　store　of　angreal；　and　sa'angreal；　and　ter'angreal。　We　will　have　some　part　of　them。　angreal　of　our　very　own；　Falion。　Perhaps　even　sa'angreal。　She　has　promised。〃
　　　〃Moghedien　was　wrong。〃　Falion　watched　shock　widen　the　other　woman's　eyes。　The　Chosen　were　only　people。
　　　Learning　that　lesson　had　stunned　Falion　too；　but　some　refused　to　learn。　The　Chosen　were　vastly　stronger；　infinitely　more　knowledgeable；　and　quite　possibly　they　had　already　received　the　reward　of　immortality；　but　by　all　evidence　they　schemed　and　fought　each　other　as　hard　as　two　Murandians　with　one　blanket。
　　　Ispan's　shock　quickly　gave　way　to　anger。　〃There　are　others　looking。　Would　they　all　look　for　nothing？　There　are　Friends　of　the　Dark　looking；　they　must　have　been　sent　by　others　of　the　Chosen。　If　the　Chosen　look；　can　you　still　say　there　is　nothing？〃　She　would　not　see。　If　a　thing　could　not　be　found；　the　most　obvious　reason　was　that　it　was　not　there。
　　　Falion　waited。　Ispan　was　not　stupid；　only　awestruck；　and　Falion　did　believe　in　making　people　teach　themselves　what　they　should　already　be　aware　of。　Lazy　minds　needed　to　be　exercised。
　　　Ispan　paced；　swishing　her　skirts　and　frowning　at　the　dust　and　old　cobwebs。　〃This　place　smells。　And　it　is　filthy！〃　She　shuddered　as　a　large　black　cockroach　went　skittering　up　the　wall。　The　glow　surrounded　her　for　a　moment；　a　flow　squashed　the　beetle　with　a　popping　sound。　Making　a　face；　Ispan　wiped　her　hands　on　her　skirts　as　if　she　had　used　them　instead　of　the　Power。　She　had　a　delicate　stomach；　though　fortunately　not　when　she　could　remove　herself　from　the　actual　deed。　〃I　will　not　report　the　failure　to　one　of　the　Chosen；　Falion。　She　would　make　us　envy　Liandrin；　yes？〃
　　　Falion　did　not　quite　shiver。　She　did；　however；　cross　the　basement　and　pour　herself　a　cup　of　plum　punch。　The　plums　had　been　old；　and　the　punch　was　too　sweet；　but　her　hands　remained　steady。　Fear　of　Moghedien　was　perfectly　sensible；　but　yielding　to　fear　was　not。　Perhaps　the　woman　was　dead。　Surely　she　would　have　summoned　them　by　now　else；　or　snatched　them　sleeping　into　Tel'aran'rhiod　again　to　tell　her　why　they　had　not　yet　carried　out　her　mands。　Until　she　saw　a　body；　though；　the　only　logical　choice　was　to　continue　as　if　Moghedien　would　appear　any　moment。　〃There　is　a　way。〃
　　　〃How？　Put　every　Wise　Woman　in　Ebou　Dar　to　the　question？　How　many　are　there？　A　hundred？　Two　hundred　perhaps？　The　sisters　in　the　Tarasin　Palace；　they　would　notice　this；　I　think。〃
　　　〃Forget　your　dreams　of　owning　a　sa'angreal；　Ispan。　There　is　no　long…hidden　storehouse；　no　secret　basement　beneath　a　palace。〃　Falion　spoke　in　cool；　measured　tones；　perhaps　more　measured　the　more　agitated　Ispan　became。　She　had　always　enjoyed　mesmerizing　a　class　of　novices　with　the　sound　of　her　voice。　〃Almost　all　of　the　Wise　Women　are　wilders；　highly　unlikely　to　know　what　we　wish　to　learn。　No　wilder　has　ever　been　found　keeping　an　angreal；　much　less　a　sa'angreal；　and　they　surely　would　have　been　found。　On　the　contrary；　by　every　record；　a　wilder　who　discovers　any　object　tied　to　the　Power　rids　herself　of　it　as　soon　as　possible；　for　fear　of　attracting　the　wrath　of　the　White　Tower。　Women　who　are　put　out　of　the　Tower；　on　the　other　hand；　seem　not　to　have　the　same　fear。　As　you　well　know；　when　they　are　searched　before　leaving；　fully　one　in　three　has　secreted　something　about　her　person；　an　actual　object　of　the　Power　or　something　she　believes　is　one。　Of　the　few　Wise　Women　who　qualify　at　present；　Callie　was　the　perfect　choice。　When　she　was　put　out　four　years　ago；　she　tried　to　steal　a　small　ter'angreal。　A　useless　thing　that　makes　images　of　flowers　and　the　sound　of　a　waterfall；　but　still　an　object　tied　to　saidar。　And　she　tried　to　discover　all　the　other　novices'　secrets；　succeeding　more　often　than　not。　If　there　was　even　a　single　angreal　in　Ebou　Dar；　not　to　speak　of　a　vast　storehouse；　do　you　think　she　could　have　been　four　years　here　without　locating　it？〃
　　　〃I　do　wear　the　shawl；　Falion；〃　Ispan　said　with　extraordinary　asperity。　〃And　I　do　know　all　of　that　as　well　as　you。　You　said　there　was　another　way。　What　way？〃　She　simply　would　not　apply　her　brain。
　　　〃What　would　please　Moghedien　as　greatly　as　the　cache？〃　Ispan　simply　stared　at　her；　tapping　her　foot。　〃Nynaeve　al'Meara；　Ispan。　Moghedien　abandoned　us　to　go　chasing　after　her；　but　obviously　she　escaped　somehow。　If　we　give　Nynaeve　…　and　the　Trakand　girl；　for　that　matter　…　to　Moghedien；　she　would　forgive　us　a　hundred　sa'angreal。〃　Which　clearly　demonstrated　that　the　Chosen　could　be　irrational；　of　course。　It　was　best；　of　course；　to　be　extremely　careful　with　those　who　were　both　irrational　and　more　powerful　than　you。　Ispan　was　not　more　powerful。
　　　〃We　should　have　killed　her　as　I　wanted；　when　she　first　appeared；〃　she　spat。　Waving　her　hands；　she　stalked　up　and　down；　grime　crunching　loudly　beneath　her　slippers。　〃Yes；　yes；　I　know。　Our　sisters　in　the　palace；　they　might　have　bee　suspicious。　We　do　not　wish　to　draw　their　eyes。　But　have　you　forgotten　Tanchico？　And　Tear？　Where　those　two　girls　appear；　disaster　follows。　Me；　I　think　if　we　cannot　kill　them；　we　should　remain　as　far　from　Nynaeve　al'Meara　and　Elayne　Trakand　as　we　can。　As　far　as　we　can！〃
　　　〃Calm　yourself；　Ispan。　Calm　yourself。〃　If　anything；　Falion's　soothing　tone　only　seemed　to　agitate　the　other　woman　more；　but　Falion　was　confident。　Logic　must　prevail　over　emotion。
　　　
　　　Sitting　on　an　upended　barrel　in　the　sparse　coolness　of　a　narrow；　shaded　alley；　he　studied　the　house　across　the　busy　street。　Suddenly　he　realized　he　was　touching　his　head　again。　He　did　not　have　a　headache；　but　his　head　felt。。。　peculiar。。。　sometimes。　Most　often　when　he　thought　of　what　he　could　not　remember。
　　　Three　stories　of　white　plaster；　the　house　belonged　to　a　goldsmith　who　supposedly　was　being　visited　by　two　friends　she　had　met　on　a　journey　north　some　years　ago。　The　friends　had　only　been　glimpsed　on　arrival　and　not　seen　since。　Finding　that　out　had　been　easy；　finding　out　they　were　Aes　Sedai　only　a　trifle　more　difficult。
　　　A　lean　young　man　in　a　torn　vest；　whistling　his　way　down　the　street　with　no　good　on　his　mind；　paused　when　he　glimpsed　him　sitting　on　the　barrel。　His　coat　and　his　location　in　the　shadows　…　and　the　rest　of　him；　he　admitted　ruefully　…　probably　looked　tempting。　He　reached　under　his　coat。　His　hands　no　longer　possessed　the　strength　or　flexibility　for　swordwork；　but　the　two　long　knives　he　had　carried　for　well　over　thirty　years　had　surprised　more　than　one　swordsman。　Maybe　something　showed　in　his　eyes；　because　the　lean　young　man　thought　better　of　it　and　whistled　his　way　on。
　　　Beside　the　house；　the　gate　that　led　back　to　the　goldsmith's　stable　swung　open；　and　two　burly　men　appeared　pushing　a　barrow　piled　high　with　soiled　straw　and　muck。　What　were　they　up　to？　Arnin　and　Nad　were　hardly　the　lads　to　be　mucking　out　stables。
　　　He　would　stay　here　until　dark；　he　decided；　then　see　whether　he　could　find　Carridin's　pretty　little　killer　again。
　　　Once　again　he　pulled　his　hand　down　from　his　head。　Sooner　or　later；　he　would　remember。　He　did　not　have　much　time　left；　but　it　was　all　he　did　have。　He　remembered　that　much。
　　　
　　　
Chapter　18　
（Dragon）　
As　the　Plow　Breaks　the　Earth　
　　　
　　　Seizing　saidin　long　enough　to　unknot　the　ward　he　had　woven　across　one　corner　of　the　anteroom；　Rand　raised　his　small　silver…mounted　cup　and　said；　〃More　tea。〃　Lews　Therin　muttered　angrily　in　the　back　of　his　head。
　　　Carved　chairs　heavy　with　gilt　stood　in　paired　lines　to　either　side　of　a　golden　Rising　Sun；　two　paces　wide；　set　into　the　polished　stone　floor；　and　another　tall　chair　so　gilded　it　seemed　entirely　gold　topped　a　small　dais　that　was　just　as　elaborate；　but　he　sat　cross…legged　on　a　carpet　spread　for　the　occasion；　green　and　gold　and　blue　in　a　Tairen　maze。　The　three　clan　chiefs　seated　across　from　him　would　have　disliked　him　receiving　them　from　a　chair　even　if　they　were　offered　their　own。　They　were　another　maze；　to　be　trod　warily。　He　was　in　his　shirt；　sleeves　pushed　up　his　forearms　to　expose　the　red…and…gold　Dragon　that　curled　around　each；　glittering　metallically。　The　Aielmen's　cadin'sor　covered　theirs；　on　the　left　arm　alone。　Perhaps　the　reminder　of　who　he　was　…　that　he　too　had　been　to　Rhuidean　when　the　journey　meant　death　for　most　men　who　entered　…　perhaps　it　was　unnecessary。　Perhaps。
　　　Those　three　faces　gave　away　little　as　they　watched　Merana　e　from　the　corner　where　she　had　been　sealed　off。　Janwin's　creased　face　could　have　been　carved　from　old　wood；　but　it　always　looked　that　way；　and　if　his　blue…gray　eyes　seemed　stormy；　so　did　they　always　too。　Even　his　hair　looked　like　storm　clouds。　He　was　an　even…tempered　man；　though。　Indirian　and　one…eyed　Mandelain　might　have　been　thinking　of　something　else；　except　that　their　unblinking　gazes　followed　her。　Lews　Therin　suddenly　went　silent；　as　if　he　too　watched；　through　Rand's　eyes。
　　　Merana's　ageless　features　revealed　even　less　than　the　clan　chiefs'。　Smoothing