rj.acrownofswords-第164部分

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　　　Darlin　snorted。　〃They　cringe　and　lick　his　boots！　I　could　have　followed；　if　that　was　what　he　wanted；　if。。。　〃　With　a　sigh；　he　shook　his　head。　〃Too　many　ifs；　Tomas。　There　is　a　saying　in　Tear。　'Any　quarrel　can　be　forgiven；　but　kings　never　forget。'　Tear　has　not　been　under　a　king　since　Artur　Hawkwing；　but　I　think　the　Dragon　Reborn　is　very　like　a　king。　No；　he　has　attainted　me　with　treason；　as　he　calls　it；　and　I　must　go　on　as　I　began。　The　Light　willing；　I　may　see　Tear　sovereign　on　its　own　land　once　more　before　I　die。〃
　　　It　had　to　be　ta'veren　work；　Min　knew。　The　man　would　never　have　spoken　this　way　to　someone　casually　met；　Caraline　Damodred's　supposed　cousin　or　not。　But　what　did　Rand　think？　She　could　hardly　wait　to　tell　him　about　the　crown。
　　　Topping　that　hill；　they　suddenly　came　on　a　knot　of　spearmen；　some　with　a　dented　breastplate　or　helmet；　most　without　either；　who　bowed　as　soon　they　saw　the　party。　To　left　and　right　through　the　trees；　Min　could　see　other　groups　of　sentries。　Below；　the　camp　lay　spread　out　in　what　seemed　a　permanent　haze　of　dust；　down　a　nearly　treeless　slope　and　across　the　hill…valley　and　up　the　next　hill。　Each　of　the　few　tents　was　large；　with　some　noble's　banner　hanging　limply　on　a　staff　above　the　peak。　Almost　as　many　horses　stood　tied　to　picket　lines　as　there　were　people；　and　thousands　of　men　and　a　handful　of　women　wandered　among　the　cookfires　and　wagons。　None　raised　a　cheer　as　their　leaders　rode　in。
　　　Min　studied　them　over　the　handkerchief　she　pressed　to　her　nose　against　the　dust；　not　caring　whether　Caraline　saw　what　she　was　doing。　Dispirited　faces　watched　them　pass；　and　grim　faces；　people　who　knew　they　were　in　a　trap。　Here　and　there　a　House's　con　stood　stiffly　above　some　man's　head；　yet　most　seemed　to　be　wearing　whatever　they　could　find；　bits　and　pieces　of　armor　that　often　neither　matched　nor　fitted　very　well。　A　good　many；　though；　men　too　tall　for　Cairhien；　wore　red　coats　under　their　battered　breastplates。　Min　eyed　a　nearly　obscured　white　lion　worked　on　a　filthy　red　sleeve。　Darlin　could　only　have　brought　a　few　people　with　him　on　a　longboat；　perhaps　no　more　than　his　hunting　party。　Caraline　looked　to　neither　side　as　they　rode　through　the　camp；　but　whenever　they　came　near　those　men　in　red　coats；　her　mouth　tightened。
　　　Darlin　dismounted　before　a　tremendous　tent；　the　largest　Min　had　ever　seen；　larger　than　any　she　had　ever　imagined；　a　great　red…striped　oval；　shining　in　the　sunlight　like　silk；　with　no　fewer　than　four　high　conical　peaks；　each　with　the　Rising　Sun　of　Cairhien　stirring　above　in　a　lazy　breeze；　gold　on　blue。　The　strumming　of　harps　drifted　out　amid　the　murmur　of　voices；　like　the　sounds　of　geese。　As　servants　took　away　the　horses；　Darlin　offered　his　arm　to　Caraline。　After　a　very　long　pause；　she　laid　her　fingers　lightly　on　his　wrist　with　no　expression　whatsoever；　letting　him　escort　her　inside。
　　　〃My　Lady　wife？〃　Rand　murmured　with　a　smile；　extending　his　arm。
　　　Min　sniffed　and　put　her　hand　atop　his。　She　would　rather　have　hit　him。　He　had　no　right　to　make　a　joke　of　that。　He　had　no　right　to　bring　her　here；　ta'veren　or　no　ta'veren。　He　could　be　killed　here；　burn　him！　But　did　he　care　if　she　spent　the　rest　of　her　life　weeping？　She　touched　one　of　the　striped　doorflaps　as　they　went　in；　and　shook　her　head　in　wonder。　It　was　silk。　A　silk　tent！
　　　No　sooner　were　they　inside　than　she　felt　Rand　stiffen。　Darlin's　shrunken　retinue　and　Caraline's　jostled　around　them　with　insincere　murmurs　of　apology。　Between　the　four　main　tentpoles；　long　trestle　tables　groaning　with　food　and　drink　stood　about　the　colorful　carpets　that　had　been　laid　for　a　floor；　and　there　were　people　everywhere；　Cairhienin　nobles　in　their　finery；　a　few　soldiers　with　the　fronts　of　their　heads　shaved　and　powdered；　plainly　men　of　high　rank　by　the　fine　cut　of　their　coats。　A　handful　of　bards　strolled　playing　through　the　crowd；　picked　out　as　much　by　a　loftier　air　than　any　noble　as　by　the　carved　and　gilded　harps　they　carried。　Yet　Min's　eyes　flew　as　if　pulled　to　the　sure　source　of　Rand's　worry；　three　Aes　Sedai　talking　together　in　shawls　fringed　green　and　brown　and　gray。　Images　and　colors　flashed　around　them；　but　not　a　thing　she　could　make　sense　of。　A　swirl　in　the　crowd　revealed　another；　a　fortably　round…faced　woman。　More　images；　more　flaring　colors；　but　all　Min　needed　was　the　red…fringed　shawl　looped　over　her　plump　arms。
　　　Rand　tucked　her　hand　under　his　arm　and　patted　it。　〃Don't　worry；〃　he　said　softly。　〃Everything　is　going　well。〃　She　would　have　asked　him　what　they　were　doing　there；　but　she　was　afraid　he　would　tell　her。
　　　Darlin　and　Caraline　had　vanished　into　the　crowd　along　with　their　followers；　yet　as　a　bowing　serving　man　with　stripes　of　red；　green　and　white　on　his　dark　cuffs　offered　a　tray　of　silver　goblets　to　Rand　and　Min；　she　reappeared；　shaking　off　the　importunings　of　a　hatchet…faced　fellow　in　one　of　those　red　coats。　He　glared　at　her　back　as　she　took　a　goblet　of　punch　and　waved　the　servant　away；　and　Min's　breath　caught　at　the　aura　that　suddenly　flashed　around　him；　bruised　hues　so　dark　they　seemed　nearly　black。
　　　〃Don't　trust　that　man；　Lady　Caraline。〃　She　could　not　stop　herself。　〃He　will　murder　anyone　he　thinks　is　in　his　way；　he'll　kill　for　a　whim；　kill　anybody。〃　She　clamped　her　teeth　shut　before　saying　more。
　　　Caraline　glanced　over　her　shoulder　as　the　hatchet…faced　man　turned　away　abruptly。　〃I　could　believe　it　easily　of　Daved　Hanlon；〃　she　said　wryly。　〃His　White　Lions　fight　for　gold；　not　Cairhien；　and　loot　worse　than　the　Aiel。　Andor　became　too　hot　for　them；　it　seems。〃　That　with　an　arch　glance　at　Rand。　〃Toram　has　promised　him　a　great　deal　of　gold；　I　think；　and　estates　I　know。〃　She　tilted　her　eyes　up　to　Min。　〃Do　you　know　the　man；　Jaisi？〃
　　　Min　could　only　shake　her　head。　How　to　explain　what　she　did　know　about　Hanlon　now；　that　his　hands　would　be　red　with　more　rapes　and　murders　before　he　died？　If　she　had　known　when　or　who。。。　But　all　she　knew　was　that　he　would。　Anyway；　telling　about　a　viewing　never　changed　it；　what　she　saw　happened；　no　matter　who　she　warned。　Sometimes；　before　she　had　learned　better；　it　had　happened　because　she　warned。
　　　〃I've　heard　of　the　White　Lions；〃　Rand　said　coldly。　〃Look　among　them　for　Darkfriends；　and　you　won't　be　disappointed。〃　They　had　been　some　of　Gaebril's　soldiers；　Min　knew　that　much；　and　little　more；　except　that　Lord　Gaebril　had　really　been　Rahvin。　It　stood　to　reason　that　soldiers　serving　one　of　the　Forsaken　would　include　Darkfriends。
　　　〃What　of　him？〃　Rand　nodded　toward　a　man　across　the　tent　whose　long　dark　coat　had　as　many　stripes　as　Caraline's　dress。　Very　tall　for　a　Cairhienin；　perhaps　less　than　a　full　head　shorter　than　Rand；　he　was　slender　except　for　broad　shoulders；　and　strikingly　good…looking；　with　a　strong　chin　and　just　a　touch　of　gray　at　his　dark　temples。　For　some　reason；　Min's　eyes　were　drawn　to　his　panion；　a　skinny　little　fellow　with　a　large　nose　and　wide　ears；　in　a　red　silk　coat　that　did　not　fit　him　very　well。　He　kept　fingering　a　curved　dagger　at　his　belt；　a　fancy　piece　with　a　golden　sheath　and　a　large　red　stone　capping　the　hilt　that　seemed　to　catch　the　light　darkly。　She　saw　no　auras　around　him。　He　seemed　vaguely　familiar。　They　were　both　looking　at　her　and　Rand。
　　　〃That；〃　Caraline　breathed　in　a　tight　voice；　〃is　Lord　Toram　Riatin　himself。　And　his　constant　panion　these　past　days；　Master　Jeraal　Mordeth。　Odious　little　man。　His　eyes　make　me　want　to　take　a　bath。　They　both　make　me　feel　unclean。〃　She　blinked；　surprised　at　what　she　had　said；　but　recovered　quickly。　Min　had　the　feeling　little　put　Caraline　Damodred　off　her　stride　for　long。　In　that；　she　was　very　like　Moiraine。　〃I　would　be　careful　were　I　you；　Cousin　Tomas；〃　she　went　on。　〃You　may　have　wrought　some　miracle　or　ta'veren…work　on　me　…　and　perhaps　even　on　Darlin　…　though　I　cannot　say　what　it　might　e　to　…　I　make　no　promises　…　but　Toram　hates　you　with　a　passion。　It　was　not　so　bad　before　Mordeth　joined　him；　yet　since。。。　Toram　would　have　us　attack　the　city　immediately；　in　the　night。　With　you　dead；　he　says；　the　Aiel　would　go；　but　I　think　it　is　you　dead　he　seeks　now　even　more　than　he　does　the　throne。〃
　　　〃Mordeth；〃　Rand　said。　His　eyes　were　locked　to　Toram　Riatin　and　the　skinny　fellow。　〃His　name　is　Padan　Fain；　and　there　are　o