rj.acrownofswords-第108部分
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〃You； Mat；〃 she managed while trying not to double over。 At least she was not speaking the Old Tongue any more either。 She knuckled a tear from the corner of her eye。 〃Some people speak a few words； a phrase or two； because of the old blood。 Usually without understanding what they say； or not quite。 But you。。。 One sentence； you're an Eharoni High Prince and the next a First Lord of Manetheren； accent and idiom perfect。 No； don't worry。 Your secret is safe with me。〃 She hesitated。 〃Is mine with you？〃
He waved a hand； still too flabbergasted to be offended。 〃Do I look like my tongue flaps？〃 he muttered。 Birgitte！ In the flesh！ 〃Burn me； I could use a drink。〃 Before that was out of his mouth he knew it was the wrong thing to say。 Women never …
〃That sounds the right notion to me；〃 she said。 〃I could use a pitcher of wine； myself。 Blood and ashes； when I saw you'd recognized me； I nearly swallowed my tongue。〃
He sat up straight as if he had been jerked； staring。
She met his gaze with a merry twinkle and a grin。 〃There's enough noise in the mon room； we could talk without being overheard。 Besides； I wouldn't mind sitting and looking a bit。 Elayne preaches like a Tovan councilor if I ogle a man for longer than a heartbeat。〃
He nodded before he thought Other men's memories told him Tovans were a stark and disapproving people； abstemious to the point of pain； at least they had been； a thousand years gone and more。 He was not sure whether to laugh or groan。 On the one hand； a chance to talk with Birgitte … Birgitte！ he doubted he would ever get over the shock … but on the other； he doubted he would be able to hear the music downstairs for the noise of those dice rattling in his skull。 She must be a key to it； somehow。 A man with any brains would climb out the window right now。 〃A pitcher or two sounds fine to me；〃 he told her。
A stiff salt breeze up from the bay carried a touch of coolness； for a wonder； but the night felt oppressive to Nynaeve。 Music and snatches of laughter drifted into the palace； and faintly from within as well。 She had been invited to the ball by Tylin herself； and Elayne and Aviendha too； but all declined； with varying degrees of politeness。 Aviendha had said there was only one dance she was willing to do with wetlander men； which made Tylin blink uncertainly。 For herself； Nynaeve would have liked to go … only a fool passed up any chance to dance … yet she knew if she had； she would have done exactly what she was doing； sat somewhere worrying and trying not to chew her knuckle to a nub。
So there they all were； closeted in their apartments with Thom and Juilin； anxious as caged cats； while everyone else in Ebou Dar made merry。 Well； she was； anyway。 What could be keeping Birgitte？ How long did it take to tell a man to present himself first thing in the morning？ Light； the whole effort was useless； and it was long past time for bed。 Long past。 If she could only sleep； she could put away memories of the morning's horrible journeys by boat。 Worst of all； her weather sense told her a storm was on the way； told her the wind should be howling outside and the rain sheeting down so thick no one could see ten feet。 It had taken her some time to understand about the times she Listened to the Wind and seemed to hear lies。 At least； she thought she understood。 Another kind of storm was ing； not wind or rain。 She had no proof； but she would eat her slippers if Mat Cauthon was not part of it somehow。 She wanted to sleep for a month； a year； to forget worries until Lan wakened her with a kiss like the Sun King with Talia。 Which was ridiculous； of course； that was only a story； and a very improper one at that； and anyway； she was not about to bee any man's pet； not even Lan's。 She would find him； though； somehow； and bond him hers。 She would。。。 Light！ If she had not thought the others would stare at her； she would have paced the soles out of her slippers！
The hours wore on。 She read and re…read the short letter Mat had left with Tylin。 Aviendha sat quietly beside her high…backed chair； cross…legged on the pale green floor tiles as usual； an ornately gilded leather…bound copy of The Travels of Jain Farstrider open on her knees。 No anxiety there； not to see； but then the woman would not turn a hair if someone stuffed a viper down her dress。 Since returning to the palace she had donned the intricate silver necklace she wore nearly day and night。 Except on the boat trip； she had said she did not want to risk it； then。 Idly； Nynaeve wondered why she no longer wore her ivory bracelet。 There had been an overheard conversation； something about not wearing it until Elayne had its like； which made little sense。 And mattered as little as the bracelet； of course。 The letter called from her lap。
The sitting…room stand…lamps made reading easy； though Mat's unformed； boyish hand did present difficulties。 It was the contents that clenched Nynaeve's middle into knots。
There's nothing here but heat and flies； and we can find plenty of those in Caemlyn。
〃Are you sure you didn't tell him anything？〃 she demanded。
Across the room； Juilin paused with his hand over the stones board； giving her a look of outraged innocence。 〃How often must I say so？〃 Outraged innocence was one of the things men did best； especially when they were guilty as foxes in the henyard。 Interesting that the carving around the board's rim was of foxes。
Thom； seated across the lapis…inlaid table from the thief…catcher； looked as little the gleeman in his finely cut coat of bronze wool； as he did the man who had once been Queen Morgase's lover。 Gnarled and white…haired； with long mustaches and thick eyebrows； he was frustrated patience from his sharp blue eyes to his boot soles。 〃I can't see how we could have； Nynaeve；〃 he said dryly； 〃given that you told us next to nothing until tonight。 You should have sent Juilin and me。〃
Nynaeve sniffed loudly。 As if those two had not been running around like chickens with their heads off ever since they arrived； prying into her and Elayne's affairs on Mat's say…so。 Those three could not be together two minutes without gossiping； either。 Men never could。 They。。。 The truth of it was； she admitted reluctantly； using the men had never occurred to them。 〃You'd have gone off carousing and drinking with him；〃 she muttered。 〃Don't tell me you would not。〃 That must be where Mat was； leaving Birgitte to cool her feet at the inn。 That man would find some way to set the whole scheme awry。
〃And what if they had？〃 Leaning beside one of the tall arched windows； peering out at the night through the white…painted iron balcony； Elayne giggled。 She was tapping her foot； though how she could make out one tune from all those floating in the darkness was a wonder。 〃It is a night for。。。 carousing。〃
Nynaeve frowned at her back。 Elayne had been increasingly peculiar all night。 If she had not known better； she would have suspected the other woman had been sneaking out to snatch sips of wine。 Gulps of it； actually。 Even if Elayne had not been under her eye； though； that was impossible。 Each of them had had a rather unfortunate experience with too much wine； and neither had again let herself have more than a single cup at a time。
〃It is Jaichim Carridin who interests me；〃 Aviendha said； closing the book and setting it beside her。 She refused to consider how odd she looked； sitting on the floor in a blue silk dress。 〃Among us； Shadowrunners are killed as soon as found； and not clan； sept； society or first…sister will raise a hand in protest。 If Jaichim Carridin is a Shadowrunner； why does Tylin Mitsobar not kill him？ Why do we not？〃
〃Matters are a little more plex here；〃 Nynaeve told her； though she had wondered the same。 Not why Carridin was not killed； of course； but why he was still allowed to e and go as he wished。 She had seen him in the palace that very day； after she had been handed Mat's letter； after she had told Tylin what it contained。 He had spoken with Tylin above an hour and departed with as much honor as when he arrived。 She had meant to discuss it with Elayne； but the question of what Mat knew； and how； kep
