rj.thepathofdaggers-第151部分

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mes　he　turns　on　them；　or　waits　in　ambush。　But　first；　the　wolf　has　to　run。〃
　　　　　　　〃When　do　we　go？〃　she　asked。　She　did　not　let　go　of　his　hair。　She　was　never　going　to　let　go　of　him。　Never。
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　
Chapter　30　
（Wolf）　
Beginnings　
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　Holding　his　fur…lined　cloak　close　with　one　hand；　Perrin　let　Stayer　walk　at　the　bay's　own　pace。　The　midmorning　sun　gave　no　warmth；　and　the　rutted　snow　on　the　road　leading　into　Abila　made　poor　footing。　He　and　his　dozen　panions　shared　the　way　with　only　two　lumbering　ox…carts　and　a　handful　of　farmfolk　in　plain　dark　woolens。　They　all　trudged　along　with　heads　down；　clutching　at　hat　or　cap　whenever　a　gust　rose　but　otherwise　concentrating　on　the　ground　beneath　their　shoes。
　　　　　　　Behind　him；　he　heard　Neald　make　a　ribald　joke　in　a　low　voice；　Grady　grunted　in　reply；　and　Balwer　sniffed　prissily。　None　of　the　three　seemed　at　all　affected　by　what　they　had　seen　and　heard　this　past　month　since　crossing　the　border　into　Amadicia；　or　by　what　lay　ahead。　Edarra　was　sharply　berating　Masuri　for　letting　her　hood　slip。　Edarra　and　Carelle　both　wore　their　shawls　wrapped　around　their　heads　and　shoulders　in　addition　to　cloaks；　but　even　after　admitting　the　necessity　to　ride；　they　had　refused　to　change　out　of　their　bulky　skirts；　so　their　dark…stockinged　legs　were　bared　above　the　knee。　The　cold　did　not　seem　to　bother　them　in　the　least；　just　the　strangeness　of　snow。　Carelle　began　quietly　advising　Seonid　as　to　what　would　happen　if　she　did　not　keep　her　face　hidden。
　　　　　　　Of　course；　if　she　let　her　face　be　seen　too　soon；　a　dose　of　the　strap　would　be　the　least　she　had　to　fear；　as　she　and　the　Wise　One　knew　well。　Perrin　did　not　have　to　look　back　to　know　the　sisters'　three　Warders；　bringing　up　the　rear　in　ordinary　cloaks；　were　men　expecting　the　need　at　any　moment　to　out　sword　and　carve　a　way　clear。　They　had　been　that　way　since　leaving　the　camp　at　dawn。　He　ran　a　gloved　thumb　along　the　axe　hanging　at　his　belt；　then　regathered　his　own　cloak　just　before　a　sudden　gust　could　make　it　billow。　If　this　went　badly；　the　Warders　might　be　right。
　　　　　　　Off　to　the　left；　short　of　where　the　road　crossed　a　wooden　bridge　over　a　frozen　stream　that　twisted　along　the　town's　edge；　charred　timbers　thrust　out　of　the　snow　atop　a　large　square　stone　platform　with　drifts　piled　around　the　bottom。　Slow　to　proclaim　allegiance　to　the　Dragon　Reborn；　the　local　lord　had　been　lucky　merely　to　be　flogged　and　fined　all　that　he　possessed。　A　knot　of　men　standing　at　the　bridge　watched　the　mounted　party　approaching。　Perrin　saw　no　sign　of　helmets　or　armor；　but　every　man　clutched　spear　or　crossbow　almost　as　hard　as　he　did　his　cloak。　They　did　not　talk　to　one　another。　They　just　watched；　the　mist　of　their　breath　curling　before　their　faces。　There　were　other　guards　bunched　all　around　the　town；　at　every　road　leading　out；　at　every　space　between　two　buildings。　This　was　the　Prophet's　country；　but　the　Whitecloaks　and　King　Ailron's　army　still　held　large　parts　of　it。
　　　　　　　〃I　was　right　not　to　bring　her；〃　he　muttered；　〃but　I'll　pay　for　it　anyway。〃
　　　　　　　〃Of　course　you'll　pay；〃　Elyas　snorted。　For　a　man　who　had　spent　most　of　the　last　fifteen　years　afoot；　he　handled　his　mouse…colored　gelding　well。　He　had　acquired　a　cloak　lined　with　black　fox；　dicing　with　Gallenne。　Aram；　riding　on　Perrin's　other　side；　eyed　Elyas　darkly；　but　the　bearded　man　ignored　him。　They　did　not　get　on　well。　〃A　man　always　pays　sooner　or　later；　with　any　woman；　whether　he　owes　or　not。　But　I　was　right；　wasn't　I？〃
　　　　　　　Perrin　nodded。　Grudgingly。　It　still　did　not　seem　right　taking　advice　about　his　wife　from　another　man；　even　circumspectly；　obliquely；　yet　it　did　seem　to　be　working。　Of　course；　raising　his　voice　to　Faile　was　as　hard　as　not　raising　it　to　Berelain；　but　he　had　managed　the　last　quite　often　and　the　first　several　times。　He　had　followed　Elyas'　advice　to　the　letter。　Well；　most　of　it。　As　well　as　he　could。　That　spiky　scent　of　jealousy　still　flared　at　the　sight　of　Berelain；　yet　on　the　other　hand；　the　hurt　smell　had　vanished　as　they　made　their　slow　way　south。　Still；　he　was　uneasy。　When　he　firmly　told　her　she　was　not　ing　with　him　this　morning；　she　had　not　raised　a　single　word　of　protest！　She　even　smelled。。。　pleased！　Among　other　things；　including　startled。　And　how　could　she　be　pleased　and　angry　at　the　same　time？　Not　a　scrap　of　it　had　showed　on　her　face；　but　his　nose　never　lied。　Somehow；　it　seemed　that　the　more　he　learned　about　women；　the　less　he　knew！
　　　　　　　The　bridge　guards　frowned　and　fingered　their　weapons　as　Stayer's　hooves　thudded　hollowly　onto　the　wooden　planking。　They　were　the　usual　odd　mix　that　followed　the　Prophet；　dirty…faced　fellows　in　silk　coats　too　big　for　them；　scar…faced　street　toughs　and　pink…cheeked　apprentices；　former　merchants　and　craftsmen　who　looked　as　if　they　had　slept　in　their　once　fine　woolens　for　months。　Their　weapons　appeared　well　cared　for；　though。　Some　of　the　men　had　a　fever　in　their　eyes；　the　rest　wore　guarded；　wooden　faces。　Along　with　unwashed；　they　smelled　eager；　anxious；　fervent；　afraid；　all　jumbled　together。
　　　　　　　They　made　no　move　to　bar　passage；　just　watched；　hardly　blinking。　By　what　Perrin　had　heard；　all　sorts　from　ladies　in　silks　to　beggars　in　rags　came　to　the　Prophet　hoping　that　submitting　to　him　in　person　might　gain　added　blessings。　Or　maybe　added　protection。　That　was　why　he　had　e　this　way；　with　only　a　handful　of　panions。　He　would　frighten　Masema　if　he　had　to；　if　Masema　could　be　frightened；　but　it　had　seemed　better　to　try　reaching　the　man　without　fighting　a　battle。　He　could　feel　the　guard's　eyes　on　his　back　until　he　and　the　others　were　all　across　the　short　bridge　and　onto　the　paved　streets　of　Abila。　When　that　pressure　left；　though；　it　brought　no　sense　of　relief。
　　　　　　　Abila　was　a　goodly　sized　town；　with　several　tall　watch　towers　and　many　buildings　rising　four　stories；　every　last　one　roofed　in　slate。　Here　and　there；　mounded　stone　and　timbers　filled　a　gap　between　two　structures　where　an　inn　or　some　merchant's　house　had　been　pulled　down。　The　Prophet　disapproved　of　wealth　gained　by　trade　as　much　as　he　did　carousing　or　what　his　followers　called　lewd　behavior。　He　disapproved　of　a　great　many　things；　and　made　his　feelings　known　with　sharp　examples。
　　　　　　　The　streets　were　jammed　with　people；　but　Perrin　and　his　panions　were　the　only　ones　on　horseback。　The　snow　had　long　since　been　trampled　to　half…frozen　ankle…deep　mush。　Plenty　of　oxcarts　made　their　slow　way　through　the　throng；　but　very　few　wagons；　and　not　a　single　carriage。　Except　for　those　wearing　worn　castoffs　or　possibly　stolen　clothes；　everyone　wore　drab　woolens。　Most　people　hurried；　but　like　the　folk　on　the　road；　with　heads　down。　Those　who　did　not　hurry　were　straggling　groups　of　men　carrying　weapons。　In　the　streets；　the　smell　was　mainly　dirt　and　fear。　It　made　Perrin's　hackles　rise。　At　least；　if　it　came　to　that；　getting　out　of　a　town　with　no　wall　would　not　prove　harder　than　getting　in。
　　　　　　　〃My　Lord；〃　Balwer　murmured　as　they　came　abreast　of　one　of　those　heaps　of　rubble。　He　barely　waited　for　Perrin's　nod　before　turning　his　hammer…nosed　mount　aside　and　making　his　way　in　another　direction；　hunched　in　his　saddle　with　his　brown　cloak　held　tight　around　him。　Perrin　had　no　worries　about　the　dried…up　little　man　going　off　alone；　even　here。　For　a　secretary；　he　managed　to　learn　a　surprising　amount　on　these　forays　of　his。　He　seemed　to　know　what　he　was　about。
　　　　　　　Dismissing　Balwer　from　his　thoughts；　Perrin　set　to　what　he　was　there　about。
　　　　　　　It　took　only　one　question；　put　to　a　lanky　young　man　with　an　ecstatic　light　on　his　face；　to　learn　where　the　Prophet　was　staying；　and　three　more　to　other　folk　in　the　streets　to　find　the　merchant's　house；　four　stories　of　gray　stone　with　white　marble　moldings　and　window　frames。　Masema　disapproved　of　grubbing　for　money；　but　he　was　willing　to　accept　acmodations　from　those　who　did。　On　the　other　hand；　Balwer　said　he　had　slept　in　a　leaky　farmhouse　as　often　and　been　as　satisfied。　Masema　drank　only　water；　and　wherever　he　went；　he　hired　a　poor　widow　and　ate　the　food　she　prepared；　fair　or　foul；　without　plaint。　The　man　had　made　too　many　widows　for　that　charity　to　count　far　with　Perrin。
　　　　　　　The　throng　that　packed　the　streets　elsewhere　was　absent　in　front　of　the　tall　house；　yet　the　number　of　arm