rj.thepathofdaggers-第76部分

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　his　mouth　angrily。　Fire　and　ice；　but　not　yet　death。
　　　　　　　〃Peace；　Gregorin。〃　Rand　did　not　raise　his　voice；　but　he　wove　flows　to　carry　his　words；　Air　and　Fire；　so　they　boomed　against　the　wall　of　trees。　〃My　offer　is　generous。〃　The　long…nosed　man　staggered　at　the　sound；　and　Gregorin's　horse　shied。　Those　hidden　men　would　hear　clearly。　〃Lay　down　your　arms；　and　those　who　want　to　return　home；　can。　Those　who　want　to　follow　me　instead；　can　do　that。　But　no　man　leaves　here　under　arms　unless　he　does　follow　me。　I　know　most　of　you　are　good　men；　who　answered　the　call　of　your　King　and　the　Council　of　Nine　to　defend　Illian；　but　I　am　your　King；　now；　and　I'll　not　have　anyone　tempted　to　turn　bandit。〃　Marcolin　nodded　grimly。
　　　　　　　〃What　about　your　Dragonsworn　burning　farms？〃　a　man's　frightened　voice　shouted　from　the　trees。　〃They　do　be　flaming　bandits！〃
　　　　　　　〃What　about　your　Aiel？〃　another　called。　〃I　do　hear　they　carry　off　whole　villages！〃　More　voices　from　unseen　men　joined　in；　all　shouting　the　same　things；　Dragonsworn　and　Aiel；　murderous　brigands　and　savages。　Rand　ground　his　teeth。
　　　　　　　When　the　shouting　faded；　narrow…face　said；　〃You　do　see？〃　He　paused　to　cough；　then　hawked　and　spat；　maybe　for　his　chest　and　maybe　for　emphasis。　A　pitiful　sight；　all　wet　and　rust；　but　his　backbone　was　as　tight　as　his　bowstring。　He　ignored　Rand's　glare　as　easily　as　he　did　Gregorin's。　〃You　do　ask　us　to　go　home　unarmed；　unable　to　defend　ourselves　or　our　families；　while　your　people　do　burn　and　steal　and　kill。　They　do　say　the　storm　be　ing；〃　he　added；　and　looked　surprised　that　he　had；　surprised　and　confused　for　a　moment。
　　　　　　　〃The　Aiel　you've　heard　about　are　my　enemies！〃　Not　spider…webs　of　flame　this　time；　but　solid　sheets　of　fury　that　wrapped　tight　around　the　Void。　Rand's　voice　was　ice；　though；　it　roared　like　the　crack　of　winter。　The　storm　was　ing？　Light；　he　was　the　storm！　〃My　Aiel　are　hunting　them　down。　My　Aiel　hunt　the　Shaido；　and　they　and　Davram　Bashere　and　most　of　the　panions　hunt　bandits；　whatever　they　call　themselves！　I　am　the　King　of　Illian；　and　I　will　allow　no　one　to　disrupt　the　peace　of　Illian！〃
　　　　　　　〃Even　if　what　you　say　do　be　true；〃　narrow…face　began。
　　　　　　　〃It　is！〃　Rand　snapped。　〃You　have　until　midday　to　decide。〃　The　man　frowned　uncertainly；　unless　the　roiling　clouds　cleared；　he　might　have　a　difficult　time　knowing　midday。　Rand　gave　him　no　relief。　〃Decide　wisely！〃　he　said。　Whirling　Tai'daishar　about；　he　spurred　the　gelding　to　a　gallop　back　toward　the　ridge　without　waiting　for　the　others。
　　　　　　　Reluctantly　he　let　go　of　the　Power；　forced　himself　not　to　hang　on　like　a　man　clutching　salvation　with　his　fingernails　as　life　and　filth　drained　from　him　together。　For　an　instant；　he　saw　double；　the　world　seemed　to　tilt　dizzily。　That　was　a　recent　problem；　and　he　worried　it　might　be　part　of　the　sickness　that　killed　men　who　channeled；　but　the　dizziness　never　lasted　more　than　moments。　It　was　the　rest　of　letting　go　that　he　regretted。　The　world　seemed　to　dull。　No；　it　did　dull；　and　became　somehow　less。　Colors　were　washed…out；　the　sky　smaller；　pared　to　what　they　had　been　before。　He　wanted　desperately　to　seize　the　Source　again　and　wring　the　One　Power　out　of　it。　Always　it　was　so　when　the　Power　left　him。
　　　　　　　No　sooner　had　saidin　gone；　though；　than　rage　bubbled　in　its　place；　white…hot　and　searing；　nearly　as　hot　as　the　Power　had　been。　The　Seanchan　were　not　enough；　and　brigands　hiding　behind　his　name？　Deadly　distractions　he　could　not　afford。　Was　Sammael　reaching　out　from　the　grave？　Had　he　sown　the　Shaido　to　sprout　like　thorns　wherever　Rand　laid　a　hand？　Why？　The　man　could　not　have　believed　he　would　die。　And　if　half　the　tales　Rand　heard　were　true；　there　were　more　in　Murandy　and　Altara　and　the　Light　alone　knew　where！　Many　among　the　Shaido　already　taken　prisoner　had　spoken　of　an　Aes　Sedai。　Could　the　White　Tower　be　involved　somehow？　Would　the　White　Tower　never　give　him　peace？　Never？　Never。
　　　　　　　Battling　fury；　he　was　blind　to　Gregorin　and　the　rest　catching　up。　When　they　topped　the　ridge　among　the　waiting　nobles；　he　drew　rein　so　abruptly　that　Tai'daishar　reared；　pawing　the　air　and　flinging　mud　from　his　hooves。　The　nobles　edged　their　mounts　back；　from　his　gelding；　from　him。
　　　　　　　〃I　gave　them　to　midday；〃　he　announced。　〃Watch　them。　I　don't　want　this　lot　breaking　into　fifty　smaller　bands　and　slipping　away。　I'll　be　in　my　tent。〃　Except　for　wind…tossed　cloaks　they　might　have　been　stone；　rooted　to　one　spot　as　if　he　meant　the　mand　to　watch　for　them　personally。　At　that　moment；　he　did　not　care　if　they　stayed　there　till　they　froze　or　melted。
　　　　　　　Without　another　word　he　trotted　down　the　back　slope　of　the　ridge；　followed　by　the　two　black…coated　Asha'man　and　his　Illianer　banner…bearers。　Fire　and　ice；　and　death　was　ing。　But　he　was　steel。　He　was　steel。
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　
Chapter　14　
（Dragon's　Fang）　
Message　from　the　M'Hael　
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　A　mile　west　of　the　ridge；　the　camps　began；　men　and　horses　and　cook　fires；　wind…flailed　banners　and　a　few　scattered　tents　clumped　by　nationality；　by　House；　each　camp　a　lake　of　churned　mud　separated　from　the　others　by　stretches　of　brushy　heath。　Men　mounted　and　afoot　watched　Rand's　streaming　banners　pass；　and　peered　toward　other　camps　to　gauge　reactions。　When　the　Aiel　had　been　present；　these　men　had　made　a　single　huge　camp；　driven　together　by　one　of　the　few　things　they　truly　shared　in　mon。　They　were　not　Aiel；　and　feared　them　however　much　they　denied　it。　The　world　would　die　unless　he　succeeded；　but　he　had　no　illusions　that　they　shared　any　loyalty　to　him；　or　even　believed　that　the　fate　of　the　world　could　not　be　made　to　acmodate　their　own　concerns；　their　own　desires　for　gold　or　glory　or　power。　A　handful　did；　perhaps；　a　bare　handful；　but　for　the　most　part；　they　followed　because　they　feared　him　far　more　than　they　did　the　Aiel。　Maybe　more　than　they　did　the　Dark　One；　in　whom　some　did　not　really　believe；　not　in　the　depths　of　their　hearts；　not　that　he　could　and　would　touch　the　world　harder　than　he　had　already。　Rand　stood　before　their　faces；　and　they　believed　in　that。　He　accepted　it；　now。　He　had　too　many　battles　ahead　of　him　to　waste　effort　on　one　he　could　not　win。　So　long　as　they　followed　and　obeyed；　it　had　to　be　enough。
　　　　　　　The　largest　of　the　camps　was　his　own；　and　here　Illianer　panions　in　green　coats　with　yellow　cuffs　rubbed　shoulders　with　Tairen　Defenders　of　the　Stone　in　fat…sleeved　coats　striped　black…and…gold　and　an　equal　number　of　Cairhienin　drawn　from　forty…odd　Houses；　in　dark　colors；　some　with　con　stiff　above　their　heads。　They　cooked　at　different　fires；　slept　apart；　picketed　their　horses　apart；　and　eyed　one　another　warily；　but　they　mingled。　The　safety　of　the　Dragon　Reborn　was　their　responsibility；　and　they　took　the　job　seriously。　Any　of　them　might　betray　him；　but　not　while　the　others　were　there　to　watch。　Old　hatreds　and　new　dislikes　would　bring　betrayal　of　any　plot　before　the　betrayer　stopped　to　think。
　　　　　　　A　ring　of　steel　stood　guard　around　Rand's　tent；　a　huge　peaked　thing　of　green　silk　embroidered　all　over　with　bees　in　thread…of…gold。　It　had　belonged　to　his　predecessor；　Mattin　Stepaneos；　and　had　e　with　the　crown；　in　a　manner　of　speaking。　panions　in　burnished　conical　helmets　stood　side　by　side　with　Defenders　in　helmets　ridged　and　rimmed；　and　Cairhienin　in　bell…shaped　helms；　ignoring　the　wind；　barred　faceguards　hiding　their　features；　halberds　slanted　precisely。　Not　one　moved　a　hair　when　Rand　drew　rein；　but　a　bevy　of　servants　came　running　to　attend　to　him　and　the　Asha'man。　A　bony　woman　in　the　green…and…yellow　vest　of　a　groom　from　the　Royal　Palace　in　Illian　took　his　bridle；　while　his　stirrup　was　held　by　a　bulbous…nosed　fellow　in　the　black…and…gold　livery　of　the　Stone　of　Tear。　They　tugged　forelocks　to　him；　and　cast　only　one　sharp　look　at　one　another。　Boreane　Carivin；　a　stout　pale　little　woman　in　a　dark　dress；　self…importantly　offered　him　a　silver　tray　of　damp　cloths　from　which　steam　rose。　Cairhienin；　she　watched　the　other　two；　though　more　as　if　making　sure　they　did　their　tasks　properly　than　with　the　animosity　for　each　other　they　barely　hid。　But　with　care；　still。　What　worked　with　the　soldiers　worked　with　the　servants　as　well。
　　　　　　　Drawing　off　his　gauntlets；　Rand　waved　away　Boreane's　tray。　Damer　Flinn　had　risen　from　an　ornately　carved　bench　in