rj.thepathofdaggers-第114部分

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　　　　　　　Bakuun　thankfully　put　raken　and　fliers　out　of　his　mind　as　he　surveyed　the　valley。　Broad　and　long；　nearly　flat　except　for　this　hill；　and　surrounded　by　steep　wooded　slopes；　only　a　goat　could　enter；　except　by　the　passes　in　his　sight。　With　the　damane；　he　could　cut　anybody　to　pieces　before　they　managed　to　try　attacking　across　that　muddy　meadow。　He　had　passed　word　along；　though；　if　the　enemy　came　straight　on；　they　would　arrive　before　any　possible　reinforcements　by　three　days　at　best。　How　had　they　e　this　far　unseen？
　　　　　　　He　had　missed　the　last　battles　of　the　Consolidation　by　two　hundred　years；　but　some　of　those　rebellions　had　not　been　small。　Two　years　fighting　on　Marendalar；　thirty　thousand　dead；　and　fifty　times　that　shipped　back　to　the　mainland　as　property。　Taking　notice　of　the　strange　kept　a　soldier　alive。　Ordering　the　camp　struck　and　all　signs　of　it　cleared；　he　began　moving　his　mand　to　the　forested　slopes。　Dark　clouds　were　massing　in　the　east；　another　of　those　cursed　storms　ing。
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　
Chapter　23　
（Insect…Like；　Horned　Helmet）　
Fog　of　War；　Storm　of　Battle　
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　No　rain　fell；　for　the　moment。　Rand　guided　Tai'daishar　around　an　uprooted　tree　lying　across　the　slope　and　frowned　down　at　a　dead　man　sprawled　on　his　back　behind　the　tree　trunk。　The　fellow　was　short　and　blocky；　his　face　creased；　and　his　armor　all　overlapping　plates　lacquered　blue　and　green；　but　staring　sightlessly　at　the　black　clouds　overhead；　he　looked　a　deal　like　Eagan　Padros；　even　to　the　missing　leg。　An　officer；　plainly；　the　sword　beside　his　outflung　hand　had　an　ivory　hilt　carved　in　the　likeness　of　a　woman；　and　his　lacquered　helmet；　shaped　like　some　huge　insect's　head；　bore　two　long　thin　blue　plumes。
　　　　　　　Uprooted　trees　and　shattered　ones；　a　fair　number　burning　from　end　to　end；　littered　the　slope　of　the　mountain　for　a　good　five　hundred　paces。　Bodies；　too；　men　broken　or　ripped　apart　when　saidin　harrowed　the　mountainside。　Most　wore　steel　veils　across　their　faces；　and　breastplates　painted　in　horizontal　stripes。　No　women；　thank　the　Light。　The　injured　horses　had　been　put　down；　another　thing　to　be　thankful　for。　It　was　incredible　how　loudly　a　horse　could　scream。
　　　　　　　Do　you　think　the　dead　are　silent？　Lews　Therin's　laugh　was　rasping。　Do　you？　His　voice　turned　to　pained　rage。　The　dead　howl　at　me！
　　　　　　　At　me；　too；　Rand　thought　sadly。　I　can't　afford　to　listen；　but　how　do　you　shut　them　up？　Lews　Therin　began　weeping　for　his　lost　Ilyena。
　　　　　　　〃A　great　victory；〃　Weiramon　intoned　behind　Rand；　then　muttered；　〃But　small　honor　in　it。　The　old　ways　are　best。〃　Mud　liberally　decorated　Rand's　coat；　yet　surprisingly；　Weiramon　appeared　as　pristine　as　he　had　back　on　the　Silver　Road。　His　helmet　and　armor　shone。　How　had　he　managed？　The　Taraboners　charged；　at　the　end；　lances　and　courage　against　the　One　Power；　and　Weiramon　had　led　his　own　charge　to　break　them。　Without　orders；　and　followed　by　every　Tairen　save　the　Defenders；　even　a　half…drunk　Torean；　surprisingly。　By　Semaradrid　and　Gregorin　Panar；　too；　with　most　of　the　Cairhienin　and　Illianers。　Standing　still　had　been　hard　by　that　time；　and　every　man　wanted　to　e　to　grips　with　something　he　actually　could　e　to　grips　with。　The　Asha'man　could　have　done　it　faster。　If　somewhat　more　messily。
　　　　　　　Rand　had　taken　no　part　in　the　righting；　except　to　sit　his　saddle　where　men　could　see　him。　He　had　been　afraid　to　seize　the　Power。　He　did　not　dare　display　weakness　for　them　to　catch。　Not　a　scrap。　Lews　Therin　gibbered　with　horror　at　the　very　idea。
　　　　　　　Equally　surprising　as　Weiramon's　unsullied　coat；　Anaiyella　rode　with　him；　and　for　once　not　simpering。　Her　face　was　pinched　and　disapproving。　Strangely；　it　did　not　spoil　her　looks　nearly　so　much　as　her　unctuous　smiles　did。　She　had　not　joined　the　charge　herself；　of　course；　any　more　than　Ailil；　but　Anaiyella's　Master　of　the　Horse　had；　and　the　man　was　most　definitely　dead；　with　a　Taraboner　lance　through　his　chest。　She　did　not　like　that　one　bit。　But　why　did　she　acpany　Weiramon？　Just　Tairens　flocking　together？　Maybe。　She　had　been　with　Sunamon；　the　last　Rand　had　seen。
　　　　　　　Bashere　walked　his　bay　up　the　slope；　picking　his　way　around　the　dead　while　seeming　to　pay　them　no　more　mind　than　he　did　a　splintered　tree　trunk　or　a　burning　stump。　His　helmet　hung　from　his　saddle；　and　his　gauntlets　were　stuffed　behind　his　sword　belt。　He　was　mud　all　down　his　right　side；　and　his　horse　as　well。
　　　　　　　〃Arae's　gone；〃　he　said。　〃Flinn　tried　Healing　him；　but　I　don't　think　Arae　wanted　to　live　like　that。　There's　near　fifty　dead　so　far；　and　some　of　the　rest　might　not　survive。〃　Anaiyella　paled。　Rand　had　seen　her　near　Arae；　emptying　herself。　Dead　moners　did　not　affect　her　so　much。
　　　　　　　Rand　felt　a　moment　of　pity。　Not　for　her；　and　not　very　much　for　Arae。　For　Min；　though　she　was　safely　back　in　Cairhien。　Min　had　foretold　Arae's　death　from　one　of　her　viewings；　and　Gueyam　and　Maraconn's；　too。　Whatever　she　had　seen；　Rand　hoped　it　had　not　been　anywhere　near　the　reality。
　　　　　　　Most　of　the　Soldiers　were　off　scouting　again；　but　down　in　the　broad　meadow；　gateways　woven　by　Gedwyn's　Dedicated　were　spilling　out　the　supply　carts　and　the　remounts。　The　men　ing　with　them　gaped　as　soon　as　they　were　clear　enough　to　see。　The　muddy　ground　was　not　so　well　plowed　as　the　mountainside；　yet　blackened　furrows；　two　paces　wide　and　fifty　long；　carved　through　the　brown　grass；　and　gaping　holes　a　horse　might　not　be　able　to　leap。　They　had　not　found　the　damane　so　far。　Rand　thought　there　had　to　be　only　one；　more　would　have　done　considerably　greater　damage　under　the　circumstances。
　　　　　　　Men　moved　around　a　number　of　small　fires　where　water　boiled　for　tea；　among　other　things。　For　once；　Tairens；　Cairhienin　and　Illianers　mingled。　Not　just　the　moners。　Semaradrid　was　sharing　his　saddle…flask　with　Gueyam；　who　wearily　rubbed　a　hand　over　his　bald　head。　Maraconn　and　Kiril　Drapaneos；　a　stork　of　a　man　whose　square…cut　beard　looked　odd　on　his　narrow　face；　were　squatting　on　their　heels　near　one　of　the　fires。　Playing　cards；　by　the　look　of　it！　Torean　had　a　whole　circle　of　laughing　Cairhienin　lordlings　around　him；　though　they　might　have　been　less　amused　by　his　jokes　than　by　the　way　he　swayed　and　rubbed　at　his　potato　nose。　The　Legionmen　kept　apart；　but　they　had　taken　in　the　〃volunteers〃　who　had　followed　Padros　to　the　Banner　of　Light。　That　lot　seemed　more　eager　than　anyone　since　learning　how　Padros　died。　Blue…coated　Legionmen　were　showing　them　how　to　change　direction　without　falling　apart　like　a　gaggle　of　geese。
　　　　　　　Flinn　was　among　the　wounded　with　Adley　and　Morr　and　Hopwil。　Narishma　could　Heal　little　more　than　minor　cuts；　no　better　than　Rand；　and　Dashiva　not　even　that。　Gedwyn　and　Rochaid　stood　talking　well　apart　from　anyone　else；　holding　their　horses　by　the　reins　atop　the　hill　in　the　middle　of　the　valley。　The　hill　where　they　had　expected　to　catch　the　Seanchan　by　surprise　when　they　rushed　out　of　gateways　surrounding　it。　Near　fifty　dead；　and　more　to　e；　but　it　would　have　been　above　two　hundred　without　Flinn　and　the　rest　who　could　manage　Healing　to　one　degree　or　another。　Gedwyn　and　Rochaid　had　not　wanted　to　dirty　their　hands　and　grimaced　when　Rand　drove　them　to　it。　One　of　the　dead　was　a　Soldier；　and　another　Soldier；　a　round…faced　Cairhienin；　sat　slumped　beside　a　fire　with　a　dazed　look　that　Rand　hoped　came　from　being　tossed　through　the　air　by　the　ground　erupting　almost　under　his　feet。
　　　　　　　Down　there　on　the　furrowed　flats；　Ailil　was　conferring　with　her　Lance…captain；　a　pale　little　man　called　Denharad。　Their　horses　stood　nearly　touching；　and　occasionally　they　looked　up　the　mountain　toward　Rand。　What　were　they　scheming？
　　　　　　　〃We'll　do　better　next　time；〃　Bashere　murmured。　He　ran　his　gaze　around　the　valley；　then　shook　his　head。　〃The　worst　mistake　is　to　make　the　same　one　twice；　and　we　won't。〃
　　　　　　　Weiramon　heard　him　and　repeated　the　same　thing；　but　using　twenty　times　the　words；　and　flowery　enough　for　a　garden　in　spring。　Without　admitting　that　there　had　been　any　mistakes；　certainly　not　on　his　part。　He　avoided　Rand's　mistakes　with　equal　adroitness。
　　　　　　　Rand　nodded；　his　mouth　tight。　Next　time　they　would　do　better。　They　had　to；　unless　he　wanted　to　leave　half　his　men　buried　in　these　mountains。　Right　then；　he　was　wondering　what　to　do　with　the　prisoners。