rj.acrownofswords-第156节

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he　subject。
　　　Her　lips　moved　silently；　and　for　an　instant　he　had　the　strange　impression　that　she　was　repeating　what　he　had　just　said。　Of　course　not。　He　was　seeing　things；　that　was　all。　Aloud；　she　said；　〃I　understand。〃　Sounding　just　as　if　she　did。　〃e　along；　now；　Mat。　We　can't　waste　time　standing　in　one　spot。〃
　　　Gaping；　he　watched　her　lift　skirts　and　cloak　to　make　her　way　along　the　landing。　She　understood？　She　understood；　and　not　one　acid　little　ment；　not　one　cutting　remark？　And　he　was　her　subject。　Her　worthy　subject。　Fingering　the　medallion；　he　followed。　He　had　been　sure　the　fight　would　be　to　ever　get　it　back。　If　he　lived　as　long　as　two　Aes　Sedai；　he　still　would　never　understand　women；　and　noblewomen　were　purely　the　worst。
　　　When　he　reached　the　steps　Elayne　had　gone　down；　the　boat's　two　brass…earringed　oarsmen　were　already　using　their　long　sweeps　to　push　the　vessel　away。　Elayne　was　herding　Reanne　and　the　last　of　the　Wise　Women　into　the　cabin；　and　Lan　stood　up　in　the　bows　with　Nynaeve。　A　shout　from　Beslan　called　him　on　to　the　next　boat；　which　held　all　of　the　men　except　the　Warder。
　　　〃Nynaeve　said　there　wasn't　room　for　any　of　us；〃　Nalesean　said　as　the　boat　rocked　its　way　out　into　the　Eldar。　〃She　said　we'd　crowd　them。〃　Beslan　laughed；　looking　around　their　own　boat。　Vanin　sat　beside　the　cabin　door　with　his　eyes　closed；　trying　to　pretend　he　was　somewhere　else。　Harnan　and　Tad　Kandel；　an　Andoran　despite　being　as　dark　as　either　of　the　boatmen；　had　climbed　atop　the　cabin；　the　rest　of　the　Redarms　hunkered　about　the　deck；　trying　to　keep　out　of　the　way　of　the　rowers。　Nobody　went　into　the　cabin；　all　apparently　waiting　to　see　whether　Mat　and　Nalesean　and　Beslan　wanted　it。
　　　Mat　put　himself　beside　the　tall　bowpost；　peering　after　the　other　boat；　crawling　on　its　sweeps　just　ahead。　The　wind　whipped　the　dark　choppy　waters；　and　his　scarf　as　well；　and　he　had　to　hold　on　to　his　hat。　What　was　Nynaeve　up　to？　The　other　nine　women　on　the　second　boat　were　all　in　the　cabin；　leaving　the　deck　to　her　and　Lan。　They　stood　up　in　the　bows；　Lan　with　his　arms　folded；　Nynaeve　gesturing　as　though　explaining。　Except　that　Nynaeve　seldom　explained　anything。　Better　say　never　than　seldom。
　　　Whatever　she　was　doing；　it　did　not　last　long。　There　were　whitecaps　out　in　the　bay；　where　Sea　Folk　rakers　and　skimmers　and　soarers　heaved　at　their　anchors。　The　river　was　not　so　bad；　but　the　boat　still　wallowed　more　than　Mat　remembered　from　any　previous　trip。　Before　long；　Nynaeve　was　draped　over　the　railing；　losing　her　breakfast　while　Lan　held　her。　That　reminded　Mat　of　his　own　belly；　tucking　his　hat　under　his　arm　so　it　could　not　blow　away；　he　pulled　out　the　wedge　of　cheese。
　　　〃Beslan；　is　this　storm　likely　to　break　before　we　can　e　back　from　the　Rahad？〃　He　took　a　bite　of　the　sharp…tasting　cheese；　they　had　fifty　different　sorts　in　Ebou　Dar；　all　good。　Nynaeve　was　still　hanging　over　the　side。　How　much　had　the　woman　eaten　this　morning？　〃I　don't　know　where　we'll　shelter　if　we're　caught。〃　He　could　not　think　of　a　single　inn　he　had　seen　in　the　Rahad　that　he　would　take　the　women　into。
　　　〃No　storm；〃　Beslan　said；　seating　himself　on　the　railing。　〃These　are　the　winter　trade　winds。　The　trades　e　twice　a　year；　in　late　winter　and　late　summer；　but　they　have　to　blow　much　harder　before　it　es　to　storm。〃　He　directed　a　sour　look　out　toward　the　bay。　〃Every　year　those　winds　bring　…　brought　…　ships　from　Tarabon；　and　Arad　Doman。　I　wonder　whether　they　ever　will　again。〃
　　　〃The　Wheel　weaves；〃　Mat　began；　and　choked　on　a　crumb　of　cheese。　Blood　and　ashes；　he　was　starting　to　sound　like　some　gray…hair　resting　his　aching　joints　in　front　of　the　fireplace。　Worrying　about　taking　the　women　into　a　rough　inn。　A　year　ago；　half　a　year；　he　would　have　taken　them；　and　laughed　when　their　eyes　popped；　laughed　at　every　prim　sniff。　〃Well；　maybe　we'll　find　you　some　fun　in　the　Rahad；　anyway。　At　the　least；　somebody　will　try　to　cut　a　purse；　or　pull　Elayne's　necklace　off。〃　Maybe　that　was　what　he　needed　to　clean　the　taste　of　sobriety　from　his　tongue。　Sobriety。　Light；　what　a　word　to　apply　to　Mat　Cauthon！　Tylin　must　be　scaring　him　more　than　he　thought；　if　he　was　shriveling　up　this　way。　Maybe　he　needed　some　of　Beslan's　sort　of　fun。　That　was　crazy　…　he　had　never　seen　the　fight　he　would　not　rather　walk　around　…　but　maybe。。。
　　　Beslan　shook　his　head。　〃If　anyone　can　find　it；　you　can；　but。。。　We'll　be　with　seven　Wise　Women；　Mat。　Seven。　With　just　one　at　your　side；　you　could　slap　a　man；　even　in　the　Rahad；　and　he　would　swallow　his　tongue　and　walk　away。　And　the　women。　What's　the　fun　of　kissing　a　woman　without　the　risk　she'll　decide　to　stick　a　knife　in　you？〃
　　　〃Burn　my　soul；〃　Nalesean　muttered　into　his　beard。　〃It　sounds　as　though　I've　dragged　myself　from　bed　for　a　dull　morning。〃
　　　Beslan　nodded　in　miseration。　〃If　we're　lucky；　though。。。　The　Civil　Guard　does　send　patrols　to　the　Rahad　occasionally；　and　if　they're　after　smugglers；　they　always　dress　like　anyone　else。　They　seem　to　think　nobody　will　notice　a　dozen　or　so　men　together　carrying　swords；　whatever　they　wear；　and　they're　always　surprised　when　the　smugglers　ambush　them；　which　is　what　nearly　always　happens。　If　Mat's　ta'veren　luck　works　for　us；　we　might　be　taken　for　the　Civil　Guard；　and　some　smugglers　might　attack　us　before　they　see　the　red　belts。〃　Nalesean　brightened　and　began　rubbing　his　hands　together。
　　　Mat　glared　at　them。　Maybe　Beslan's　sort　of　fun　was　not　what　he　needed。　For　one　thing；　he　had　more　than　enough　of　women　with　knives。　Nynaeve　still　hung　over　the　side　of　the　boat　ahead；　that　would　teach　her　to　gorge　herself。　Wolfing　down　the　last　of　the　cheese；　he　began　on　the　bread　and　tried　to　ignore　the　dice　in　his　head。　An　easy　trip　with　no　trouble　did　not　sound　bad　at　all。　A　quick　trip；　with　a　quick　departure　from　Ebou　Dar。
　　　The　Rahad　was　everything　he　remembered；　and　everything　Beslan　feared。　The　wind　made　climbing　the　cracked　gray　stone　steps　at　the　boat　landing　into　a　perilous　feat；　and　after　that；　it　grew　worse。　Canals　ran　everywhere；　just　as　across　the　river；　but　here　the　bridges　were　plain；　the　grimy　stone　parapets　broken　and　crumbling；　half　the　canals　were　so　silted　that　boys　waded　waist…deep　in　them；　and　hardly　a　barge　was　to　be　seen。　Tall　buildings　stood　crowded　together；　blocky　structures　with　scabrous　once…white　plaster　gone　in　huge　patches　to　reveal　rotting　red　brick；　bordering　narrow　streets　with　broken　paving　stones。　In　those　streets　where　even　the　fragments　had　not　been　ripped　up。　Morning　did　not　really　reach　into　the　shadows　of　the　buildings。　Dingy　laundry　hung　drying　from　every　third　window；　except　where　a　structure　stood　empty。　Some　did；　and　those　windows　gaped　liked　eye　sockets　in　a　skull。　A　sour…sweet　smell　of　decay　permeated　the　air；　last　month's　chamber　pots　and　ancient　refuse　moldering　wherever　it　had　been　flung；　and　for　every　fly　on　the　other　side　of　the　Eldar；　a　hundred　buzzed　here　in　clouds　of　green　and　blue。　He　spotted　the　peeling　blue　door　of　The　Golden　Crown　of　Heaven　and　shuddered　at　the　thought　of　taking　the　women　in　there　if　the　storm　broke；　despite　what　Beslan　said。　Then　he　shuddered　again　for　having　shuddered。　Something　was　happening　to　him；　and　he　did　not　like　it。
　　　Nynaeve　and　Elayne　insisted　on　taking　the　lead；　with　Reanne　between　them　and　the　Wise　Women　close　behind。　Lan　stayed　at　Nynaeve's　shoulder　like　a　wolfhound；　hand　on　sword　hilt；　eyes　constantly　searching；　radiating　menace。　In　truth；　he　was　probably　enough　protection　for　two　dozen　pretty　sixteen…year…old　girls　carrying　sacks　of　gold；　even　here；　but　Mat　insisted　that　Vanin　and　the　rest　keep　their　eyes　open。　In　fact；　the　former　horsethief　and　poacher　kept　so　close　to　Elayne　that　anyone　could　have　been　forgiven　for　thinking　he　was　her　Warder；　if　a　rather　fat　and　rumpled　one。　Beslan　rolled　his　eyes　expressively　at　Mat's　instructions；　and　Nalesean　irritably　stroked　his　beard　and　muttered　that　he　could　still　be　in　bed。
　　　Men　strutted　arrogantly　along　the　streets　with　often　ragged　vests　and　no　shirts；　wearing　great　brass　hoops　in　their　ears　and　brass　finger　rings　set　with　colored　glass；　one　knife　or　sometimes　two　stuck　behind　their　belts。　Hands　hovering　near　those　knives；　they　stared　as　though　daring　someone　to　give　the　wrong　twist　to　a　look。　Others　skulked　from　corner　to　corner；　doorway　to　doorway　with　hooded　eyes；　imitating　the　slat…ribbed　dogs　that　sometimes　snarled　from　a　dark　alleyway　barely　wide　enough　for　a　man　to　squeeze　into。　Those　men　hunched　over　their　knives；　and　there　was　no　way　to　tell　which　would　run　and　which　stab。　By　and　large；　the　women　made　any　of　the　men　appear　humble；　parading　in　worn　dresses　and　twice　as　much　brass　jewelry　as　the　men。　They　carried　knives　too；　of　course；　and　their　bold　dark　eyes　sent　ten　sorts　of　challenge　in　every　glance。　In　short；　the　Rahad　was　the　sort　of　place　where　anyone　wearing　silk　could　hardly　hope　to　walk　ten　steps　without　being　cracked　over　the　head。　After　which　they　had　best　hope　to　wake　stripped　to　the　skin　and　tossed　onto　a　pile　of　rubbish　in　an　alley；　since　the　alternative　was　not　to　wake　at　all。　But。。。
　　　Children　darted　from　every　second　door　with　chipped　pottery　cups　of　water；　sent　by　their　mothers　in　case　the　Wise　Women　wished　a　drink。　Men　with　scarred　faces　and　murder　etched　into　their　ey