rj.acrownofswords-第194部分

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hanneler　had　been　one　of　them。　He　leaned　on　the　wall；　waiting；　wishing　he　could　sit。　His　legs　ached　and　his　side　burned　however　he　stood；　yet　he　might　need　to　see　as　well　as　feel　a　weave。
　　　The　city　was　not　entirely　quiet。　From　several　directions　he　could　hear　distant　shouts；　the　faint　clash　of　metal。　Even　moving　so　many　men　to　the　border；　Sammael　had　not　left　Illian　entirely　unprotected。　Rand　turned；　trying　to　watch　in　every　direction。　He　thought　Sammael　would　e　to　the　King's　Palace　or　that　other　at　the　far　end　of　the　square；　but　he　could　not　be　certain。　Down　one　street　he　saw　a　band　of　Saldaeans　clashing　with　an　equal　number　of　mounted　men　in　shining　breastplates；　more　Saldaeans　suddenly　galloped　in　from　one　side；　and　the　fight　vanished　from　his　sight　behind　buildings。　In　another　direction　he　spotted　some　of　the　Legion　of　the　Dragon；　marching　across　a　canal's　low　bridge。　An　officer　marked　by　a　tall　red　plume　on　his　helmet　strode　ahead　of　some　twenty　men　carrying　wide　shields　as　tall　as　their　shoulders；　followed　by　perhaps　two　hundred　more　with　heavy　crossbows。　How　would　they　fight？　Shouts　and　steel　ringing　on　steel　in　the　distance；　the　faint　screams　of　dying　men。
　　　The　sun　slid　downward；　and　shadows　lengthened　across　the　city。　Twilight；　and　the　sun　a　low　crimson　dome　in　the　west。　A　few　stars　appeared。　Had　he　been　wrong？　Would　Sammael　simply　go　elsewhere；　find　another　land　to　master？　Had　he　been　listening　to　anything　other　than　his　own　mad　ramblings？
　　　A　man　channeled。　For　a　moment；　Rand　froze；　staring　at　the　Great　Hall　of　the　Council。　That　had　been　enough　of　saidin　for　a　gateway；　he　might　not　have　felt　a　much　smaller　channeling；　the　length　of　the　square。　It　had　to　be　Sammael。
　　　In　an　instant　he　had　seized　the　Source；　woven　a　gateway　and　leaped　through　with　lightning　ready　to　fly　from　his　hands。　It　was　a　large　room；　lit　by　huge　mirrored　golden　stand…lamps　and　others　hanging　on　chains　from　the　ceiling；　with　snowy　marble　walls　carved　in　friezes　showing　battles；　and　ships　crowding　the　marsh…bordered　harbor　of　Illian　itself。　At　the　far　end　of　the　room；　nine　heavily　carved　and　gilded　armchairs　stood　like　thrones　atop　a　high　stair…fronted　white　dais；　the　center　chair　with　a　back　higher　than　any　other。　Before　he　could　release　the　gateway　behind　him；　the　tower　top　where　he　had　stood　exploded。　He　felt　the　wash　of　Fire　and　Earth　even　as　a　storm　of　stone　fragments　and　dust　struck　through　the　gateway；　knocking　him　down　on　his　face。　Pain　stabbed　his　side　as　he　landed；　a　sharp　red　lance　digging　into　the　Void　where　he　floated；　and　that　as　much　as　anything　else　made　him　release　the　gateway。　Someone　else's　pain；　someone　else's　weakness。　He　could　ignore　them；　in　the　Void。
　　　He　moved；　forcing　another　man's　muscles　to　work；　pushed　himself　up　and　scrambled　away　in　a　lurching　run　toward　the　dais　just　as　hundreds　of　red　filaments　burned　down　through　the　ceiling；　burned　through　the　sea…blue　marble　floor　in　a　wide　circle　all　around　where　the　residue　of　his　gateway　was　still　fading。　One　stabbed　through　the　heel　of　his　boot；　through　his　heel；　and　he　heard　himself　cry　out　as　he　fell。　Not　his　pain；　in　side　or　foot。　Not　his。
　　　Rolling　onto　his　back；　he　could　see　the　remnants　of　those　burning　red　wires　still；　fresh　enough　to　make　out　Fire　and　Air　woven　in　a　way　he　had　not　known。　Enough　to　make　out　exactly　the　direction　they　had　e　from。　Black　holes　in　the　floor　and　ornately　worked　white　plaster　ceiling　high　overhead　hissed　and　crackled　loudly　at　the　touch　of　the　air。
　　　His　hands　rose；　and　he　wove　balefire。　Began　to　weave　it。　Someone　else's　cheek　stung　from　a　remembered　slap；　and　Cadsuane's　voice　hissed　and　crackled　in　his　head　like　the　holes　the　red　filaments　had　made。　Never　again；　boy；　you　will　never　do　that　again。　It　seemed　that　he　heard　Lews　Therin　whimpering　in　distant　fear　of　what　he　was　about　to　loose；　what　had　almost　destroyed　the　world　once。　Every　flow　but　Fire　and　Air　fell　away；　and　he　wove　as　he　had　seen。　A　thousand　fine　hairs　of　red　blossomed　between　his　hands；　fanning　out　slightly　they　shot　upward。　A　circle　of　the　ceiling　two　feet　across　fell　in　stone　chips　and　plaster　dust。
　　　Only　after　he　had　done　it　did　he　think　that　there　might　be　someone　between　him　and　Sammael。　He　intended　to　see　Sammael　dead　this　day；　but　if　he　could　do　it　without　killing　anyone　else。。。　The　weaves　vanished　as　he　pulled　himself　to　his　feet　once　more　and　limped　hurriedly　to　the　doors　in　the　side　of　the　hall；　tall　things　with　every　panel　set　with　nine　golden　bees　the　size　of　his　fist。
　　　A　small　flow　of　Air　pushed　one　door　open　before　he　reached　it；　too　small　to　be　detected　at　any　distance。　Hobbling　into　the　corridor；　he　sank　to　one　knee。　That　other　man's　side　was　fire；　his　heel　agony。　Rand　pulled　his　sword　up　and　leaned　on　it；　waiting。　A　clean…shaven　fellow　with　plump　pink　cheeks　peered　around　a　corner　down　the　way；　enough　of　his　coat　showed　to　name　him　a　servant。　At　least；　a　coat　green　on　one　side　and　yellow　on　the　other　looked　like　livery。　The　fellow　saw　Rand　and；　very　slowly；　as　though　he　might　not　be　noticed　if　he　moved　slowly　enough；　slid　back　out　of　sight。　Sooner　or　later；　Sammael　would　have　to。。。
　　　〃Illian　belongs　to　me！〃　The　voice　boomed　in　the　air；　from　every　direction；　and　Rand　cursed。　That　had　to　be　the　same　weave　he　himself　had　used　in　the　square；　or　something　very　like；　it　required　so　little　of　the　Power　he　might　not　have　felt　the　actual　flows　had　he　been　within　ten　paces　of　the　man。　〃Illian　is　mine！　I　won't　destroy　what　belongs　to　me　killing　you；　and　I　won't　let　you　destroy　it；　either。　You　had　the　nerve　to　e　after　me　here？　Do　you　have　the　courage　to　follow　me　again？〃　A　sly　mocking　tone　entering　that　thundering　voice。　〃Do　you　have　the　courage？〃　Somewhere　above；　a　gateway　opened　and　closed；　Rand　had　no　doubt　that　was　what　it　was。
　　　The　courage？　Did　he　have　the　courage？　〃I'm　the　Dragon　Reborn；〃　he　muttered；　〃and　I'm　going　to　kill　you。〃　Weaving　a　gateway；　he　stepped　through；　to　a　place　floors　above。
　　　It　was　another　hallway；　lined　with　wall　hangings　showing　ships　at　sea。　At　the　far　end；　the　last　crimson　sliver　of　the　sun　shone　through　a　colonnaded　walk。　The　residue　of　Sammael's　gateway　hung　in　the　air；　the　dissipating　flows　like　faintly　glowing　ghosts。　Not　so　faint　Rand　could　not　make　them　out；　though。　He　began　to　weave；　then　stopped。　He　had　leaped　up　here　without　a　thought　of　a　trap。　If　he　copied　what　he　saw　exactly；　he　would　step　out　wherever　Sammael　had；　or　so　close　as　made　no　difference。　But　with　just　a　slight　alteration；　no　way　to　be　sure　whether　the　change　was　fifty　feet　or　five　hundred；　yet　either　was　close　enough。
　　　The　vertical　silver　slash　began　to　rotate　open；　revealing　the　shadow…cloaked　ruins　of　greatness；　not　quite　as　dark　as　the　hallway。　Seen　through　the　gateway；　the　sun　was　a　slightly　thicker　slice　of　red；　half…hidden　by　a　shattered　dome。　He　knew　that　place。　The　last　time　he　had　gone　there；　he　had　added　a　name　to　that　list　of　Maidens　in　his　head；　the　first　time；　Padan　Fain　had　followed　and　bee　more　than　a　Darkfriend；　worse　than　a　Darkfriend。　That　Sammael　had　fled　to　Shadar　Logoth　seemed　like　ing　full　circle　in　more　ways　that　one。　There　was　no　time　to　waste　now　that　he　was　opening　the　way。　Before　the　gateway　stopped　widening；　he　ran　through　into　the　ravaged　city　that　once　had　been　called　Aridhol；　ran　limping；　letting　the　weave　go　as　he　ran；　boots　crunching　on　broken　paving　stones　and　dead　weeds。
　　　The　first　corner　he　came　to；　he　ducked　around。　The　ground　shook　under　his　feet　as　roars　sounded　back　the　way　he　had　e；　light　flashing　atop　flash　in　the　twilight　darkness；　he　felt　the　wash　of　Earth　and　Fire　and　Air。　Shrieks　and　bellows　rose　through　the　thunderous　crashes。　Saidin　pulsing　inside　him；　he　hobbled　away　without　looking　back。　He　ran；　and　with　the　Power　filling　him；　even　in　the　dark　shadows　he　could　see　clearly。
　　　All　around　the　great　city　lay；　huge　marble　palaces　each　with　four　and　five　domes　of　different　shapes　painted　crimson　by　the　setting　sun；　bronze　fountains　and　statues　at　every　intersection；　great　stretches　of　columns　running　to　towers　that　soared　across　the　sun。　They　soared　when　intact；　at　least；　more　ended　in　abrupt　jaggedness　than　not。　For　every　dome　that　stood　whole；　ten