rj.thepathofdaggers-第66节
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seen better days； his armor battered； its gilding chipped。 His face was gaunt and hard； the front of his head shaved and powdered like a mon soldier； and his dark eyes shone with contempt for the taller Tairens。
There was plenty of contempt to go around。 Tairens and Cairhienin hated one another。 Illianers and Tairens despised each other。 Only Cairhienin and Illianers got along to any degree； and there was a certain amount of prickle even there。 Their two nations might not have near the long history of bad blood shared by Tear and Illian； yet the Cairhienin still were foreigners； armed and armored on Illian's soil； weled halfheartedly at best and only that much because they followed Rand。 But despite all the frowning and bristling and trying to talk at once as they milled about Rand in a flurry of windblown cloaks； they had a mon goal now。 After a fashion。
〃Majesty；〃 Gregorin said hastily； bowing in his gold…tooled saddle； 〃I do beg you let me go in your stead； or First Captain Marcolin。〃 The square…cut beard that left his upper lip bare framed a round face creased with worry。 〃These men must know you are King … the proclamations do be read in every village； at every crossroads； as we do speak … yet they may no show proper respect for your crown。〃 Lantern…jawed Marcolin； clean…shaven； studied Rand with dark； deep…set eyes； giving no hint what lay behind his impassive face。 The panions' loyalty was to the crown of Illian； and Marcolin was old enough to remember when Tarn al'Thor had been Second Captain over him； but only he knew what he thought of Rand al'Thor as King。
〃My Lord Dragon；〃 Weiramon intoned as he made his bow； not waiting for Gregorin to finish。 The man always intoned； and even on horseback he seemed to strut。 His worked velvets and striped silks and falls of lace almost overwhelmed his armor； and his pointed gray beard gave off a flowery scent of perfumed oils。 〃This rabble is too petty to concern the Lord Dragon personally。 Set dogs to catch dogs； I say。 Let the Illianers root them out。 Burn my soul； they've done nothing so far to serve you but talk。〃 Trust him to turn agreement with Gregorin into an insult。 Tolmeran was lean enough to make Weiramon appear bulky and somber enough to dim the luster of his garb； he was no fool； and rival to Weiramon besides； yet he nodded slowly in agreement。 No love lost there for Illianers； at all。
Semaradrid curled a lip at the Tairens but addressed himself to Rand； cutting in hard on Weiramon's heels。 〃This gathering is ten times as large any other we have found so far； my Lord Dragon。〃 He cared nothing for the King of Illian； and little enough for the Dragon Reborn； except that the throne of Cairhien was Rand's to give； and Semaradrid hoped it would be given to one he could follow instead of fight。 〃Their loyalties must be to Brend； or so many would not have held together。 I fear talking to them is a waste of time； but if you must talk； let me ring their position openly with steel so they know the price of putting a foot out of line。〃
Rosana glared right back at Semaradrid； a lean woman； not tall yet nearly as tall as he； with eyes like blue ice。 She did not wait for him to finish； either； and she； too； spoke to Rand。 〃I've e too far and invested too much in you to see you die now； for nothing；〃 she said bluntly。 No more a fool than Tolmeran； Rosana had claimed a place in the councils of the High Lords； though Tairen High Ladies seldom did； and blunt was the word for her。 Despite the armor most of the noblewomen wore； none actually led their armsmen into battle； yet Rosana carried a flanged mace on her saddle； and sometimes Rand thought she would like a chance to use it。 〃I doubt those Illianers lack for bows；〃 she said； 〃and it takes only one arrow to kill even the Dragon Reborn。〃 Pursing his lips thoughtfully； Marcolin nodded before catching himself； then exchanged startled looks with Rosana； each more surprised than the other to find themselves of like mind with an ancient enemy。
〃These peasants could never have found the mettle to stay under arms without encouragement；〃 Weiramon continued smoothly； ignoring Rosana。 He was skilled at ignoring who； and what； he did not want to see or hear。 He was a fool。 〃May I suggest my Lord Dragon look to these so…called Nine for the source？〃
〃I do protest this Tairen pig's insults； Majesty！〃 Gregorin growled right atop him； one hand darting to his sword。 〃I do protest most heartily！〃
〃There are too many this time；〃 Semaradrid said at the same instant。 〃Most will turn against you as soon as your back is to them in any case。〃 By his pointed frown； he might have been speaking of the Tairens as well as the men on the wooded hills。 Perhaps he was。 〃Better to kill them and be done！〃
〃Did I ask for opinions？〃 Rand snapped harshly。 Babble became silence； except for the crack of cloaks and banners flapping in the wind。 Suddenly expressionless faces regarded him； more than one going gray。 They did not know he held the Power； but they knew him。 Not all of what they knew was truth； but it was just as well they believed。 〃You will e with me； Gregorin；〃 he said in a more normal voice。 Still hard； though。 Steel was all they understood； go soft； and they would turn on him。 〃And you； Marcolin。 The rest stay here。 Dashiva！ Hopwil！〃
Everyone not named reined their horses back hurriedly as the two Asha'man rode to join Rand； and the Illianers eyed the black…coated men as though they would have liked to remain behind； too。 Aside from anything else； Corlan Dashiva was glowering and muttering under his breath as he so often did。 Everyone was aware that saidin drove men mad sooner or later； and plain…faced Dashiva certainly looked the part； lank untrimmed hair flying in the wind； licking his lips and shaking his head。 For that matter； Eben Hopwil； just sixteen and still with a few scattered blotches on his cheeks； wore a staring frown that gazed beyond anything in sight。 At least Rand knew the why of that。
As the Asha'man drew near； Rand could not help cocking his head to listen； though what he listened for was inside his head。 Alanna was there； of course； neither the Void nor the Power altered that a whisker。 Distance wore that awareness down to just that … awareness that she existed； somewhere far to the north … yet there was something more today； something he had felt several times recently； dim and barely on the edge of notice。 A whisper of shock； perhaps； or outrage； a breath of something sharp he could not quite grasp。 She must feel whatever it was very strongly for him to be even that conscious of it at this distance。 Maybe she was missing him。 A wry thought。 He did not miss her。 Ignoring Alanna was easier than it had been once。 She was there； but not the voice that used to shout of death and killing whenever an Asha'man came into sight。 Lews Therin was gone。 Unless that feel of someone staring at the back of his head； brushing his shoulder blades with a finger； was him。 Was there a madman's hoarse laughter deep in his thoughts？ Or was it his own？ The man had been there！ He had！
He became aware of Marcolin staring at him； and Gregorin trying very hard not to。 〃Not yet；〃 he told them wryly； and almost laughed when they clearly understood right away。 Relief was too plain on their faces for anything else。 He was not insane。 Yet。 〃e；〃 he told them； and started Tai'daishar down the slope at a trot。 Despite the men following； he felt alone。 Despite the Power； he felt empty。
Between the ridge and the hills lay patches of thick scrub and long stretches of dead grass； a glistening mat of brown and yellow beaten flat by the rain。 Only a few days ago the ground had been so parched that he had thought it could drink a river without changing。 Then the torrents came； sent by the Creator finding mercy at last； or maybe by the Dark One in a fit of black humor； he did not know which。 Now the horses' hooves splashed mud at every second step。 He hoped this did not take long。 He had some time； by what Hopwil had reported； but not forever。 Perhaps weeks； if he was lucky。 He needed months。 Light； he needed years he would never have！
His hearing heightened by the Power； he could make out some of what the men behind him were saying。 Gregorin and Marcolin rode knee…to…knee； trying to hold their cloaks against the wind and speaking in low tones about the men ahead； about their fears the men might fight。 Neither doubted they would be crushed if they resisted； but they feared the effect on Rand； and his on Illian； if Illianers fought him now that Brend was dead。 They still could not bring themselves to give Brend his true name； Sammael。 The very notion that one of the Forsaken had ruled in Illian frightened them even more than the fact that the Dragon Reborn ruled there now。
Dashiva； slumped in his gray's saddle like a man who had never seen a horse before； muttered angrily under his breath。 In the Old Tongue； which he spoke and read as fluently as a scholar。 Rand knew a little； though not enough to understand what the fellow was mumbling。 Probably plaints about the weather； despite being a farmer； Dashiva disliked being out…of…doors unless the skies were clear。
Only H
