rj.eyeoftheworld-第21节

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would　decide　to　prove　he　could　still　dance　as　well　as　ever；　and　Mat　would　have　something　planned　that　would　not　quite　happen　the　way　he　intended；　and　everybody　would　know　he　was　responsible　even　if　no　one　could　prove　it。　He　could　almost　smile　thinking　about　now　it　would　be。
　　　　　　　After　a　time　Tam　spoke　up　again。
　　　　　　　〃Avendesora。　It's　said　it　makes　no　seed；　but　they　brought　a　cutting　to　Cairhien；　a　sapling。　A　royal　gift　of　wonder　for　the　King。〃　Though　he　sounded　angry；　he　was　barely　loud　enough　for　Rand　to　understand。　Anyone　who　could　hear　him　would　be　able　to　hear　the　litter　scraping　across　the　ground；　too。　Rand　kept　on；　only　half　listening。　〃They　never　make　peace。　Never。　But　they　brought　a　sapling；　as　a　sign　of　peace。　A　hundred　years　it　grew。　A　hundred　years　of　peace　with　those　who　make　no　peace　with　strangers。　Why　did　he　cut　it　down？　Why？　Blood　was　the　price　for　Avendoraldera。　Blood　the　price　for　Laman's　pride。〃　He　faded　off　into　muttering　once　more。
　　　　　　　Tiredly　Rand　wondered　what　fever…dream　Tam　could　be　having　now。　Avendesora。　The　Tree　of　Life　was　supposed　to　have　all　sorts　of　miraculous　qualities；　but　none　of　the　stories　mentioned　any　sapling；　or　any　〃they。〃　There　was　only　the　one；　and　that　belonged　to　the　Green　Man。
　　　　　　　Only　that　morning　he　might　have　felt　foolish　at　musing　over　the　Green　Man　and　the　Tree　of　Life。　They　were　only　stories。　Are　they？　Trollocs　were　just　stories　this　morning。　Maybe　all　the　stories　were　as　real　as　the　news　the　peddlers　and　merchants　brought；　all　the　gleeman's　tales　and　all　the　stories　told　at　night　in　front　of　the　fireplace。　Next　he　might　actually　meet　the　Green　Man；　or　an　Ogier　giant；　or　a　wild；　black…veiled　Aielman。
　　　　　　　Tam　was　talking　again；　he　realized；　sometimes　only　murmuring；　sometimes　loud　enough　to　understand。　From　time　to　time　he　stopped　to　pant　for　breath；　then　went　on　as　if　he　thought　he　had　been　speaking　the　whole　time。
　　　　　　　〃。。。　battles　are　always　hot；　even　in　the　snow。　Sweat　heat。　Blood　heat。　Only　death　is　cool。　Slope　of　the　mountain　。。。　only　place　didn't　stink　of　death。　Had　to　get　away　from　smell　of　it　。。。　sight　of　it　。。。　heard　a　baby　cry。　Their　women　fight　alongside　the　men；　sometimes；　but　why　they　had　let　her　e；　I　don't　。。。　gave　birth　there　alone；　before　she　died　of　her　wounds　。。。　covered　the　child　with　her　cloak；　but　the　wind　。。。　blown　the　cloak　away　。。。　child；　blue　with　the　cold。　Should　have　been　dead；　too　。。。　crying　there。　Crying　in　the　snow。　I　couldn't　just　leave　a　child　。。。　no　children　of　our　own　。。。　always　knew　you　wanted　children。　I　knew　you'd　take　it　to　your　heart；　Kari。　Yes；　lass。　Rand　is　a　good　name。　A　good　name。〃
　　　　　　　Suddenly　Rand's　legs　lost　the　little　strength　they　had。　Stumbling；　he　fell　to　his　knees。　Tam　moaned　with　the　jolt；　and　the　strip　of　blanket　cut　into　Rand's　shoulders；　but　he　was　not　aware　of　either。　If　a　Trolloc　had　leaped　up　in　front　of　him　right　then；　he　would　just　have　stared　at　it。　He　looked　over　his　shoulder　at　Tam；　who　had　sunk　back　into　wordless　murmur。　Fever…dreams；　he　thought　dully。　Fevers　always　brought　bad　dreams；　and　this　was　a　night　for　nightmares　even　without　a　fever。
　　　　　　　〃You　are　my　father；〃　he　said　aloud；　stretching　back　a　hand　to　touch　Tam；　〃and　I　am　…　〃　The　fever　was　worse。　Much　worse。
　　　　　　　Grimly　he　struggled　to　his　feet。　Tam　murmured　something；　but　Rand　refused　to　listen　to　any　more。　Throwing　his　weight　against　the　improvised　harness　he　tried　to　put　all　of　his　mind　into　taking　one　leaden　step　after　another；　into　reaching　the　safety　of　Emond's　Field。　But　he　could　not　stop　the　echo　in　the　back　of　his　mind。　He's　my　father。　It　was　just　a　fever…dream。　He's　my　father。　It　was　just　a　fever…dream。　Light；　who　am　I？
　
Chapter　7
Out　of　the　Woods
　
　　　　　　　Gray　first　light　came　while　Rand　still　trudged　through　the　forest。　At　first　he　did　not　really　see。　When　he　finally　did；　he　stared　at　the　fading　darkness　in　surprise。　No　matter　what　his　eyes　told　him；　he　could　hardly　believe　he　had　spent　all　night　trying　to　travel　the　distance　from　the　farm　to　Emond's　Field。　Of　course；　the　Quarry　Road　by　day；　rocks　and　all；　was　a　far　cry　from　the　woods　by　night。　On　the　other　hand；　it　seemed　days　since　he　had　seen　the　black…cloaked　rider　on　the　road；　weeks　since　he　and　Tam　had　gone　in　for　their　supper。　He　no　longer　felt　the　strip　of　cloth　digging　into　his　shoulders；　but　then　he　felt　nothing　in　his　shoulders　except　numbness；　nor　in　his　feet；　for　that　matter。　In　between；　it　was　another　matter。　His　breath　came　in　labored　pants　that　had　long　since　set　his　throat　and　lungs　to　burning；　and　hunger　twisted　his　stomach　into　queasy　sickness。
　　　　　　　Tam　had　fallen　silent　some　time　before。　Rand　was　not　sure　how　long　it　had　been　since　the　murmurs　ceased；　but　he　did　not　dare　halt　now　to　check　on　Tam。　If　he　stopped　he　would　never　be　able　to　force　himself　to　start　out　again。　Anyway；　whatever　Tam's　condition；　he　could　do　nothing　beyond　what　he　was　doing。　The　only　hope　lay　ahead；　in　the　village。　He　tried　wearily　to　increase　his　pace；　but　his　wooden　legs　continued　their　slow　plod。　He　barely　even　noticed　the　cold；　or　the　wind。
　　　　　　　Vaguely　he　caught　the　smell　of　woodsmoke。　At　least　he　was　almost　there　if　he　could　smell　the　village　chimneys。　A　tired　smile　had　only　begun　on　his　face；　though；　when　it　turned　to　a　frown。　Smoke　lay　heavy　in　the　air　…　too　heavy。　With　the　weather；　a　fire　might　well　be　blazing　on　every　hearth　in　the　village；　but　the　smoke　was　still　too　strong。　In　his　mind　he　saw　again　the　Trollocs　on　the　road。　Trollocs　ing　from　the　east；　from　the　direction　of　Emond's　Field。　He　peered　ahead；　trying　to　make　out　the　first　houses；　and　ready　to　shout　for　help　at　the　first　sight　of　anyone；　even　Cenn　Buie　or　one　of　the　Coplins。　A　small　voice　in　the　back　of　his　head　told　him　to　hope　someone　there　could　still　give　help。
　　　　　　　Suddenly　a　house　became　visible　through　the　last　bare…branched　trees；　and　it　was　all　he　could　do　to　keep　his　feet　moving。　Hope　turning　to　sharp　despair；　he　staggered　into　the　village。
　　　　　　　Charred　piles　of　rubble　stood　in　the　places　of　half　the　houses　of　Emond's　Field。　Soot…coated　brick　chimneys　thrust　like　dirty　fingers　from　heaps　of　blackened　timbers。　Thin　wisps　of　smoke　still　rose　from　the　ruins。　Grimy…faced　villagers；　some　yet　in　their　night　clothes；　poked　through　the　ashes；　here　pulling　free　a　cookpot；　there　simply　prodding　forlornly　at　the　wreckage　with　a　stick。　What　little　had　been　rescued　from　the　flames　dotted　the　streets；　tall　mirrors　and　polished　sideboards　and　highchests　stood　in　the　dust　among　chairs　and　tables　buried　under　bedding；　cooking　utensils；　and　meagre　piles　of　clothing　and　personal　belongings。
　　　　　　　The　destruction　seemed　scattered　at　random　through　the　village。　Five　houses　marched　untouched　in　one　row；　while　in　another　place　a　lone　survivor　stood　surrounded　by　desolation。
　　　　　　　On　the　far　side　of　the　Winespring　Water；　the　three　huge　Bel　Tine　bonfires　roared；　tended　by　a　cluster　of　men。　Thick　columns　of　black　smoke　bent　northward　with　the　wind；　flecked　by　careless　sparks。　One　of　Master　al'Vere's　Dhurran　stallions　was　dragging　something　Rand　could　not　make　out　over　the　ground　toward　the　Wagon　Bridge；　and　the　flames。
　　　　　　　Before　he　was　well　out　of　the　trees；　a　sooty…faced　Haral　Luhhan　hurried　to　him；　clutching　a　woodsman's　axe　in　one　thick…fingered　hand。　The　burly　blacksmith's　ash…smeared　nightshirt　hung　to　his　boots；　the　angry　red　welt　of　a　burn　across　his　chest　showing　through　a　ragged　tear。　He　dropped　to　one　knee　beside　the　litter。　Tam's　eyes　were　closed；　and　his　breathing　came　low　and　hard。
　　　　　　　〃Trollocs；　boy？〃　Master　Luhhan　asked　in　a　smoke…hoarse　voice。　〃Here；　too。　Here；　too。　Well；　we　may　have　been　luckier　than　anyone　has　a　right　to　be；　if　you　can　credit　it。　He　needs　the　Wisdom。　Now　where　in　the　Light　is　she？　Egwene！〃
　　　　　　　Egwene；　running　by　with　her　arms　full　of　bed　sheets　torn　into　bandages；　looked　around　at　them　without　slowing。　Her　eyes　stared　at　something　in　the　far　distance；　dark　circles　made　them　appear　even　larger　than　they　actually　were。　Then　she　saw　Rand　and　stopped；　drawing　a　shuddering　breath。　〃Oh；　no；　Rand；　not　your　father？　Is　he　。。。　？　e；　I'll　take　you　to　Nynaeve。〃
　　　　　　　Rand　was　too　tired；　too　stunned；　to　speak。　All　through　the　night　Emond's　Field　had　been　a　haven；　where　he　Tam　would　be　safe。　Now　all　he　could　seem　to　do　was　stare　in　dismay　at　her　smoke…stained　dress。　He　noticed　odd　details　as　if　they　were　very　important。　The　buttons　down　the　back　of　her　dress　were　done　up　crookedly。　And　her　hands　were　clean。　He　wondered　why　her　hands　were　clean　when　smudges　of　soot　marked　her　cheeks。
　　　　　　　Master　Luhhan　seemed　to　understand　what　had　e　over　him。　Laying　his　axe　across　the　shafts；　the　blacksmith　picked　up　the　rear　of　the　litter　and　gave　it　a　gentle　push；　prodding　him　to　follow　Egwene。　He　stumbled　after　her　as　if　walking　in　his　sleep。　Briefly　he　wondered　how　Master　Luhhan　knew　the　creatures　were　Trollocs；　but　it　was　a　fleeting　thought。　If　Tam　could　recognize　them；　there　was　no　reason　why　Haral　Luhhan　could　not。
　　　　　　　〃All　the　stories　are　real；〃　he　muttered。
　　　　　　　〃So　it　seems；　lad；〃　the　blacksmith　said。　〃So　it　seems。〃
　　　　　　　Rand　only　half　heard。　He　was　concentrating　on　following　Egwene's　slender　shape。　He　had　pulled　himself　together　just　enough　to　wish　she　would　hurry；