rj.acrownofswords-第197部分

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them　by　the　Ways；　but　apparently　he　did　not　realize　just　how　Rand　had　marked　the　Waygate　here。
　　　Well　short　of　the　square　where　the　Waygate　lay；　Rand　stopped　and　looked　around。　Nearby；　a　tower　stood　seemingly　whole。　Not　nearly　as　tall　as　some；　its　top　still　rose　more　than　fifty　paces　above　the　ground。　The　dark　doorway　at　its　base　was　empty；　the　wood　long　rotted　away　and　the　hinges　gone　to　dust。　Through　blackness　relieved　only　by　faint　starlight　through　the　windows；　he　climbed　the　winding　stairs　slowly；　small　clouds　puffing　up　beneath　his　boots；　every　second　step　a　stab　of　pain　up　his　leg。　Distant　pain。　On　the　tower　top；　he　leaned　against　the　smooth　parapet　to　catch　his　breath。　The　idle　thought　came　that　he　would　never　hear　the　end　if　Min　learned　of　this。　Min；　or　Amys；　or　Cadsuane　for　that　matter。
　　　Across　missing　rooftops；　he　could　see　the　great　square　that　had　been　one　of　the　most　important　in　Aridhol。　Once　an　Ogier　grove　had　covered　this　part　of　the　land；　but　within　thirty　years　after　the　Ogier　who　had　built　the　oldest　parts　of　the　city　departed；　the　residents　had　cut　down　the　trees　to　make　room　for　expanding　Aridhol。　Palaces　and　the　remains　of　palaces　surrounded　the　huge　square；　the　glow　of　Mashadar　shining　deep　inside　a　few　windows；　and　a　huge　mound　of　rubble　covered　one　end；　but　in　the　center　stood　the　Waygate；　apparently　a　tall　broad　piece　of　stone。　He　was　not　close　enough　to　see　the　delicately　carved　leaves　and　vines　that　covered　it；　but　he　could　make　out　the　toppled　pieces　of　high　fence　that　had　once　surrounded　it。　Power…wrought　metal　lying　in　a　heap；　they　gleamed　untarnished　in　the　night。　He　could　also　see　the　trap　he　had　woven　around　the　Waygate；　inverted　so　no　eye　but　his　could　see　it。　No　way　to　tell　by　looking　whether　the　Trollocs　and　Halfmen　really　had　passed　through　it；　yet　if　they　had；　they　would　die　before　long。　A　nasty　thing。　Whatever　traps　Sammael　had　made　down　there　were　invisible　to　him；　but　that　was　expected。　Likely　they　were　not　very　pleasant　either。
　　　At　first；　he　could　not　see　Sammael；　but　then　someone　moved　among　the　fluted；　flaring　columns　of　a　palace。　Rand　waited。　He　wanted　to　be　sure；　he　had　only　one　chance。　The　figure　stepped　forward；　out　of　the　columns　and　a　pace　into　the　square；　head　swinging　this　way　and　that。　Sammael；　with　snowy　lace　shining　at　his　throat；　waiting　to　see　Rand　walk　into　the　square；　into　the　traps。　Behind　him；　the　glow　in　the　windows　of　the　palace　brightened。　Sammael　peered　into　the　darkness　lying　across　the　square；　and　Mashadar　oozed　out　of　the　windows；　thick　billows　of　silver…gray　fog　sliding　together；　merging　as　they　loomed　above　his　head。　Sammael　walked　a　little　to　one　side；　and　the　wave　began　to　descend；　slowly　picking　up　speed　as　it　fell。
　　　Rand　shook　his　head。　Sammael　was　his。　The　flows　needed　for　balefire　seemed　to　gather　themselves；　despite　the　far　echo　of　Cadsuane's　voice。　He　raised　his　hand。
　　　A　scream　tore　the　darkness；　a　woman　shrieking　in　agony　beyond　knowing。　Rand　saw　Sammael　turn　to　stare　toward　the　great　mound　of　rubble　even　as　his　own　eyes　flashed　that　way。　Atop　the　mound　a　shape　stood　outlined　against　the　night　sky　in　coat　and　breeches；　a　single　thin　tendril　of　Mashadar　touching　her　leg。　Arms　outstretched；　she　thrashed　about；　unable　to　move　from　the　spot；　and　her　wordless　wail　seemed　to　call　Rand's　name。
　　　〃Liah；〃　he　whispered。　Unconsciously　he　reached　out；　as　though　he　could　stretch　his　arm　across　the　intervening　distance　and　pull　her　away。　Nothing　could　save　what　Mashadar　touched；　though；　no　more　than　anything　could　have　saved　him　had　Fain's　dagger　plunged　into　his　heart。　〃Liah；〃　he　whispered。　And　balefire　leaped　from　his　hand。
　　　For　less　than　a　heartbeat；　the　shape　of　her　still　seemed　to　be　there；　all　in　stark　blacks　and　snowy　whites；　and　then　she　was　gone；　dead　before　her　agony　began。
　　　Screaming；　Rand　swept　the　balefire　down　toward　the　square；　the　rubble　collapsing　on　itself；　swept　down　death　out　of　time　…　and　let　saidin　go　before　the　bar　of　white　touched　the　lake　of　Mashadar　that　now　rolled　across　the　square；　billowing　past　the　Waygate　toward　rivers　of　glowing　gray　that　flowed　out　from　another　palace　on　the　other　side。　Sammael　had　to　be　dead。　He　had　to　be。　There　had　not　been　time　for　him　to　run；　no　time　to　weave　a　gateway；　and　if　he　had；　Rand　would　have　felt　saidin　being　worked。　Sammael　was　dead；　killed　by　an　evil　almost　as　great　as　himself。　Emotion　raced　across　the　outside　of　the　Void；　Rand　wanted　to　laugh；　or　perhaps　cry。　He　had　e　here　to　kill　one　of　the　Forsaken；　but　instead　he　had　killed　a　woman　he　had　abandoned　here　to　her　fate。
　　　For　a　long　time　he　stood　on　the　tower　top　while　the　waning　moon　crossed　the　sky；　almost　at　its　half；　stood　watching　Mashadar　fill　the　square　pletely；　till　only　the　very　top　of　the　Waygate　rose　above　the　surface　of　the　fog。　Slowly　it　began　to　ebb　away；　hunting　elsewhere。　If　Sammael　had　been　alive；　he　could　have　killed　the　Dragon　Reborn　easily　then。　Rand　was　not　sure　that　he　would　have　cared。　Finally　he　opened　a　gateway　for　Skimming　and　made　a　platform；　a　railless　disc；　half　white　and　half　black。　Skimming　was　slower　than　Traveling；　it　took　him　at　least　half　an　hour　to　reach　Illian；　and　the　whole　way；　he　burned　Liah's　name　into　his　mind　again　and　again；　flailing　himself　with　it。　He　wished　he　could　cry。　He　thought　he　had　forgotten　how。
　　　They　were　waiting　for　him　in　the　King's　Palace；　in　the　throne　room。　Bashere；　and　Dashiva　and　the　Asha'man。　It　was　exactly　like　the　room　he　had　seen　at　the　other　end　of　the　square；　down　to　the　stand…lamps　and　the　scenes　carved　into　the　marble　walls　and　the　long　white　dais。　Exactly　the　same　except　for　being　slightly　larger　in　every　dimension；　and　instead　of　nine　chairs　on　the　dais；　there　was　only　a　great　gilded　throne　with　leopards　for　its　arms　and　nine　fist…sized　golden　bees　that　would　stand　above　the　head　of　whoever　sat　in　it。　Wearily　Rand　sat　himself　down　on　the　steps　at　the　front　of　the　dais。
　　　〃I　take　it　Sammael　is　dead；〃　Bashere　said；　looking　him　up　and　down　in　his　ragged　coat　and　dust。
　　　〃He's　dead；〃　Rand　said。　Dashiva　sighed　loudly　with　relief。
　　　〃The　city　is　ours；〃　Bashere　went　on。　〃Or　I　should　say；　yours。〃　He　laughed　suddenly。　〃The　fighting　stopped　quick　enough　once　the　right　people　found　out　it　was　you。　Not　much　to　it；　in　the　end。〃　Dried　blood　made　a　black　stain　down　one　torn　sleeve　of　his　coat。　〃The　Council　has　been　waiting　eagerly　for　you　to　e　back。　Anxiously；　you　might　say；〃　he　added　with　a　wry　grin。
　　　Eight　sweating　men　had　been　standing　at　the　far　end　of　the　throne　room　since　Rand　came　in。　They　wore　dark　silk　coats　with　gold　or　silver　embroidery　on　the　lapels　and　sleeves；　and　falls　of　lace　at　their　throats　and　wrists。　Some　wore　a　beard　that　left　the　upper　lip　shaved　clean；　but　every　one　had　a　broad　sash　of　green　silk　slanted　across　his　chest；　with　nine　golden　bees　marching　up　it。
　　　At　Bashere's　gesture　they　came　forward；　bowing　to　Rand　at　about　every　third　step；　for　all　the　world　as　though　he　wore　the　finest　garments　sewn。　A　tall　man　seemed　to　be　the　leader；　a　round…faced　fellow　with　one　of　those　beards；　with　a　natural　dignity　that　appeared　strained　by　worry。　〃My　Lord　Dragon；〃　he　said；　bowing　again　and　pressing　both　hands　to　his　heart。　〃Forgive　me；　but　Lord　Brend　do　be　nowhere　to　be　found；　and　…　〃
　　　〃He　won't　be；〃　Rand　said　flatly。
　　　A　muscle　in　the　man's　face　jumped　at　Rand's　tone；　and　he　swallowed。　〃As　you　do　say；　my　Lord　Dragon；〃　he　murmured。　〃I　do　be　Lord　Gregorin　den　Lushenos；　my　Lord　Dragon。　In　Lord　Brend's　absence；　I　do　speak　for　the　Council　of　Nine。　We　do　offer　you。。。　〃　A　hand　at　his　side　waved　vigorously　at　a　shorter；　beardless　man；　who　stepped　forward　bearing　a　cushion　draped　with　a　length　of　green　silk。　〃。。。　we　do　offer　you　Illian。〃　The　shorter　man　whipped　the　cloth　away；　revealing　a　heavy　gold　circlet；　two　inches　wide；　of　laurel　leaves。　〃The　city　do　be　yours；　of　course；〃　Gregorin　went　on　anxiously。　〃We　did　put　an　end　to　all　resistance。　We　do　offer　you　the　crown；　and　the　throne；　and　all　of　Illian。〃
　　　Rand　stared　at　the　crown　on　its　cushion；　not　moving　a　muscle。　People　had　thought　he　meant　to　make　himself　a　king　in　Tear；　feared　he　would　in　Cairhien　and　Andor；　but　no　one　had　offered　him　a　cr