rj.acrownofswords-第110节

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r　to　clean　herself。　She　was　not　sure　whether　that　was　a　mercy　or　not；　the　glad　thrill　at　seeing　a　bucket　of　water　reminded　her　how　far　she　had　fallen。　Shaidar　Haran　was　in　the　cell　with　her　now。
　　　Hurriedly　rolling　from　her　pallet；　she　knelt　and　put　her　face　to　the　bare　stone　floor。　She　had　always　done　whatever　was　necessary　for　survival；　and　the　Myrddraal　had　been　all　too　glad　to　teach　her　what　was　necessary。　〃I　greet　you　eagerly；　Mia'cova。〃　The　lashed…together　title　burned　on　her　tongue。　〃One　Who　Owns　Me；〃　it　meant；　or　simply；　〃My　Owner。〃　The　strange　shield　Shaidar　Haran　had　used　on　her　…　Myrddraal　could　not；　but　it　did　…　the　shield　was　not　in　evidence；　yet　she　did　not　consider　channeling。　The　True　Power　was　denied　her；　of　course　…　that　could　be　drawn　only　with　the　Great　Lord's　blessing　…　but　the　Source　tantalized；　though　the　glow　just　beyond　sight　seemed　somehow　odd。　She　still　did　not　consider　it。　Every　time　the　Myrddraal　visited；　it　displayed　her　mindtrap。　Channeling　too　near　your　own　cour'souvra　was　extremely　painful；　the　nearer；　the　more　the　pain；　this　close；　she　did　not　think　she　would　survive　a　simple　touch　on　the　Source。　And　that　was　the　least　of　the　mindtrap's　dangers。
　　　Shaidar　Haran　chuckled；　a　rasp　of　dried；　cracked　leather。　That　was　another　difference　about　this　Myrddraal。　Far　more　cruel　than　Trollocs；　who　were　merely　bloodthirsty；　Myrddraal　were　cold　and　dispassionate　in　it。　Shaidar　Haran　often　showed　amusement；　though。　So　far　she　felt　lucky　to　have　only　bruises。　Most　women　would　have　been　on　the　brink　of　madness　by　now；　if　not　beyond。
　　　〃And　are　you　eager　to　obey？〃　that　rustling；　grating　voice　asked。
　　　〃Yes；　I　am　eager　to　obey；　Mia'cova。〃　Whatever　was　necessary　to　survive。　But　she　still　gasped　when　cold　fingers　suddenly　tangled　in　her　hair。　She　scrambled　to　her　feet　on　her　own　as　much　as　possible；　but　still　was　hauled　up。　At　least　this　time　her　feet　remained　on　the　floor。　The　Myrddraal　studied　her；　expressionless。　Remembering　past　visits；　it　required　an　effort　not　to　flinch；　or　scream；　or　simply　reach　for　saidar　and　make　an　end。
　　　〃Close　your　eyes；〃　it　told　her；　〃and　keep　them　closed　until　you　are　manded　to　open　them。〃
　　　Moghedien's　eyes　snapped　shut。　One　of　Shaidar　Haran's　lessons　had　been　instant　obedience。　Besides；　with　her　eyes　closed；　she　could　try　to　pretend　that　she　was　somewhere　else。　Whatever　was　necessary。
　　　Abruptly　the　hand　in　her　hair　rushed　her　forward；　and　she　screamed　in　spite　of　herself。　The　Myrddraal　meant　to　run　her　into　the　wall。　Her　hands　went　up　for　protection；　and　Shaidar　Haran　released　her。　She　staggered　at　least　ten　steps　…　but　her　cell　was　not　ten　paces　corner　to　corner。　Wood　smoke；　she　smelled　a　faint　touch　of　wood　smoke。　She　kept　her　eyelids　firmly　closed；　though。　She　meant　to　continue　with　no　more　than　bruises；　and　as　few　bruises　as　possible；　for　as　long　as　she　could　manage。
　　　〃You　can　look　now；〃　a　deep　voice　said。
　　　She　did；　cautiously。　The　speaker　was　a　tall；　broad…shouldered　young　man　in　black　boots　and　breeches　and　a　flowing　white　shirt　unlaced　at　the　top；　who　watched　her　with　startlingly　blue　eyes　from　a　deep；　cushioned　armchair　in　front　of　a　marble　fireplace　where　flames　danced　along　long　logs。　She　stood　in　a　wood…paneled　room　that　might　have　belonged　to　a　wealthy　merchant　or　noble　of　moderate　rank　in　this　time；　the　furniture　lightly　carved　and　touched　with　gilt；　the　rugs　woven　in　red…and…gold　arabesques。　She　did　not　doubt　it　was　somewhere　close　by　Shayol　Ghul；　though；　it　did　not　have　the　feel　of　Tel'aran'rhiod；　the　only　other　possibility。　Swiveling　her　head　hastily；　she　drew　a　deep　breath。　The　Myrddraal　was　nowhere　to　be　seen。　Tight　bands　of　cuande　seemed　to　vanish　from　around　her　chest。
　　　〃Did　you　enjoy　your　time　in　the　vacuole？〃
　　　Moghedien　felt　icy　fingers　dig　into　her　scalp。　She　was　no　researcher　or　maker；　but　she　knew　that　word。　She　did　not　even　think　to　ask　how　a　young　man　of　this　time　did；　too。　Sometimes　there　were　bubbles　in　the　Pattern；　though　someone　like　Mesaana　would　say　that　was　too　simple　an　explanation。　Vacuoles　could　be　entered；　if　you　knew　how；　and　manipulated　much　like　the　rest　of　the　world　…　researchers　had　often　done　great　experiments　in　vacuoles；　so　she　vaguely　remembered　hearing　…　but　they　were　outside　the　Pattern　really；　and　sometimes　they　closed　up；　or　perhaps　broke　off　and　drifted　away。　Even　Mesaana　could　not　say　what　happened　…　except　that　anything　in　them　at　the　time　was　gone　forever。
　　　〃How　long？〃　She　was　surprised　her　voice　was　so　steady。　She　rounded　on　the　young　man；　who　sat　there　showing　her　white　teeth。　〃I　said；　how　long？　Or　don't　you　know？〃
　　　〃I　saw　you　arrive。。。　〃　He　paused；　lifting　a　silver　goblet　from　the　table　beside　his　chair；　eyes　smiling　at　her　over　the　rim　as　he　drank。　〃。。。　the　night　before　last。〃
　　　She　could　not　hide　a　relieved　gasp。　The　only　reason　anyone　would　want　to　enter　a　vacuole　was　that　time　flowed　differently　there；　sometimes　slower；　sometimes　faster。　Sometimes　much　faster。　She　would　not　have　been　entirely　surprised　to　learn　that　the　Great　Lord　had　really　imprisoned　her　for　a　hundred　years；　or　a　thousand；　to　emerge　into　a　world　already　his；　to　make　her　way　feeding　among　carrion　while　the　other　Chosen　stood　at　the　pinnacle。　She　was　still　one　of　the　Chosen；　in　her　own　mind；　at　least。　Until　the　Great　Lord　himself　said　she　was　not。　She　had　never　heard　of　anyone　being　released　once　a　mindtrap　was　set；　but　she　would　find　a　way。　There　was　always　a　way　for　those　who　were　cautious；　while　those　fell　who　called　caution　cowardice。　She　herself　had　carried　a　few　of　that　so…called　brave　sort　to　Shayol　Ghul　to　be　fitted　with　cour'souvra。
　　　Suddenly；　it　occurred　to　her　that　this　fellow　knew　a　great　deal　for　a　Friend　of　the　Dark；　especially　one　not　many　years　past　twenty。　He　swung　one　leg　over　an　arm　of　the　chair；　lounging　insolently　under　her　scrutiny。　Graendal　might　have　snatched　him；　if　he　had　any　position　or　power；　only　too　strong　a　chin　kept　him　from　being　pretty　enough。　She　did　not　think　she　had　ever　seen　eyes　so　blue。　With　his　insolence　in　her　very　face　and　what　she　had　had　to　endure　at　Shaidar　Haran's　hands　so　fresh；　with　the　Source　calling　her　and　the　Myrddraal　gone；　she　considered　teaching　this　young　Friend　of　the　Dark　a　sharp　lesson。　The　fact　that　her　clothes　were　grimy　added　their　part；　she　herself　smelled　faintly　of　the　perfume　in　the　wash　water；　but　she　had　had　no　way　to　clean　the　rough　woolen　dress　in　which　she　fled　Egwene　al'Vere；　with　its　rips　from　her　journey　down　to　the　Pit。　Prudence　prevailed　…　this　room　must　be　close　to　Shayol　Ghul　…　but　barely。
　　　〃What　is　your　name？〃　she　demanded。　〃Do　you　have　any　idea　who　you　are　speaking　to？〃
　　　〃Yes；　I　do；　Moghedien。　You　may　call　me　Moridin。〃
　　　Moghedien　gasped。　Not　for　the　name；　any　fool　could　call　himself　Death。　But　a　tiny　black　fleck；　just　large　enough　to　see；　floated　straight　across　one　of　those　blue　eyes　and　then　across　the　other　in　the　same　line。　This　Moridin　had　tapped　into　the　True　Power；　and　more　than　once。　Much　more。　She　knew　that　some　men　who　could　channel　survived　in　this　time　aside　from　al'Thor　…　this　fellow　was　much　of　a　size　with　al'Thor　…　but　she　had　not　expected　the　Great　Lord　to　allow　one　that　particular　honor。　An　honor　with　a　bite；　as　any　of　the　Chosen　knew。　In　the　long　run；　the　True　Power　was　far　more　addictive　than　the　One　Power；　a　strong　will　could　hold　down　the　desire　to　draw　more　saidar　or　saidin；　but　she　herself　did　not　believe　the　will　existed　strong　enough　to　resist　the　True　Power；　not　once　the　saa　appeared　in　your　eyes。　The　final　price　was　different；　but　no　less　terrible。
　　　〃You　have　been　given　distinction　greater　than　you　know；〃　she　told　him。　As　though　her　filthy　dress　was　the　finest　streith；　she　took　the　armchair　opposite　him。　〃Bring　me　some　of　that　wine；　and　I　will　tell　you。　Only　twenty…nine　others　have　ever　been　granted　…　〃
　　　To　her　shock；　he　laughed。　〃You　misapprehend；　Moghedien。　You　still　serve　the　Great　Lord；　but　not　quite　as　you　once　did。　The　time　for　playing　your　own　games　has　passed。　If　you　had　not　managed　to　do　some　good　by　accident；　you　would　be　dead　now。〃
　　　〃I　am　one　of　the　Chosen；　boy；〃　she　said；　fury　burning　through　caution。　She　sat　up　straight；　facing　him　with　all　the　knowledge　of　an　Age　that　made　his　little　different　from　times　of　mud　huts。　As　much　of　that　knowledge　as　she　had；　anyway；　and　in　some　areas；　concerning　the　One　Power；　no　one　outstripped　her。　She　almost　embraced　the　Source　no　matter　how　close　Shayol　Ghul　lay。　〃Your　mother　probably　used　my　name　to　frighten　you　not　so　many　years　gone；　but　know　that　grown　men　who　could　crumple　you　like　a　rag　sweated　when　they　heard　it。　You　will　watch　your　tongue　with　me！〃
　　　He　reached　into　the　open　neck　of　his　shirt；　and　her　own　tongue　clove　to　the　roof　of　her　mouth。　Her　eyes　fixed　on　the　small　cage　of　gold　wire　and　blood…red　crystal　that　he　drew　out　dangling　on　a　cord。　She　thought　vaguely　that　he　tucked　another　just　like　it　back　in；　but　she　had　eyes　only　for　her　own。　It　definitely　was　hers。　His　thumb　stroked；　and　she　felt　that　caress　across　her　mind；　her　soul。　Breaking　a　mindtrap　did　not　require　much　more　pressure　than　he　was　using。　She　could　be　on　the　other　side　of　the　world　or　farther；　and　it　would　not