rj.acrownofswords-第161节

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el　easy　knowing　that　thing　was　after　them。　In　return　he　received　a　puzzled　frown　from　Elayne；　just　the　smallest　wrinkling　of　her　forehead；　and　from　Nynaeve　a　slight　wave　of　the　hand；　an　impatient　wave；　to　get　on　with　it。
　　　〃。。。　To　continue；〃　he　said；　shooting　the　pair　of　them　a　glare。　It　was　very　hard　not　to　sigh；　dealing　with　women。　〃Whoever　sent　the　gholam　has　to　know　the　Bowl　is　here　in　the　Tarasin　Palace；　now。　If　he；　or　she；　sends　the　gholam　here；　some　of　you　are　going　to　die。　Maybe　a　lot　of　you。　I　can't　protect　all　of　you　at　once。　Maybe　he'll　get　the　Bowl；　too。　And　that's　on　top　of　Falion　Bhoda；　small　chance　she's　alone；　even　with　Ispan　a　prisoner；　so　that　means　we　have　the　Black　Ajah　to　worry　about；　as　well。　Just　in　case　the　Forsaken　and　gholam　aren't　enough　for　you。〃　Reanne　and　the　Wise　Women　drew　themselves　up　even　more　indignantly　than　Merilille　and　her　friends　at　mention　of　the　Black　Ajah；　and　the　Aes　Sedai；　stiffening　and　gathering　skirts；　looked　ready　to　stalk　out　in　a　huff。　Press　on；　that　was　all　he　could　do。　〃Now。。。　Now　do　you　see　why　you　all　have　to　leave　the　palace　and　take　the　Bowl　somewhere　the　gholam　doesn't　know　about？　Somewhere　the　Black　Ajah　doesn't　know？　Do　you　see　why　it　has　to　be　done　now？〃
　　　Renaile's　sniff　would　have　startled　geese　in　the　next　room。　〃You　merely　repeat　yourself；　Master　Cauthon。　Merilille　Sedai　says　she　has　never　heard　of　this　gholam。　Elayne　Sedai　says　there　was　a　strange　man；　a　creature；　but　little　else。　What　is　this。。。　stasis…box！　You　have　not　explained　that。　How　do　you　know　what　you　claim　to　know？　Why　should　we　go　any　further　from　the　water　than　we　are　on　the　word　of　a　man　who　creates　fables　from　air？〃
　　　Mat　looked　to　Nynaeve　and　Elayne；　though　with　little　hope。　If　they　would　only　open　their　mouths；　this　could　been　have　been　finished　long　since；　but　they　gazed　back　at　him；　practicing　expressionless　Aes　Sedai　masks　till　their　jaws　must　be　creaking。　He　could　not　understand　their　silence。　A　bare…bones　account　of　events　in　the　Rahad　had　been　all　they　gave；　and　he　was　willing　to　bet　they　would　not　have　mentioned　the　Black　Ajah　at　all　had　there　been　any　other　way　to　explain　showing　up　in　the　palace　with　an　Aes　Sedai　bound　and　shielded。　Ispan　was　being　held　in　another　part　of　the　palace；　her　presence　known　only　to　a　handful。　Nynaeve　had　forced　some　concoction　down　her　throat；　a　foul…smelling　mix　of　herbs　that　bulged　the　woman's　eyes　going　down　and　had　her　giggling　and　stumbling　in　short　order；　and　the　rest　of　the　Knitting　Circle　occupied　the　room　with　her　for　guards。　Unwilling　guards；　but　very　assiduous；　Nynaeve　had　made　it　extremely　clear　that　should　they　let　Ispan　get　away；　they　had　best　start　running　before　she　laid　hands　on　them　again。
　　　He　very　carefully　did　not　look　toward　Birgitte；　standing　beside　the　door　with　Aviendha。　The　Aiel　woman　wore　an　Ebou　Dari　dress；　not　the　plain　wool　she　had　returned　in；　but　a　silver…gray　silk　riding　dress　that　jarred　with　her　plain…sheathed　horn…handled　belt　knife。　Birgitte　had　been　quick　to　shed　her　own　dress　for　her　usual　short　coat　and　wide　trousers；　these　dark　blue　and　dark　green。　A　quiver　already　hung　at　her　hip。　She　was　the　source　of　everything　he　knew　about　gholam　…　and　stasis…boxes　…　except　what　his　eyes　had　seen　in　the　Rahad。　And　he　would　not　have　revealed　that　on　a　hot　grill。
　　　〃I　read　a　book　once　that　talked　about　…　〃　he　began；　and　Renaile　cut　him　off。
　　　〃A　book；〃　she　sneered。　〃I　will　not　abandon　the　salt　for　a　book　Aes　Sedai　do　not　know。〃
　　　Suddenly　it　struck　Mat　that　he　was　the　only　man　present。　Lan　had　gone　off　at　Nynaeve's　mand；　gone　as　tamely　as　Beslan　had　at　his　mother's。　Thom　and　Juilin　were　packing　to　leave。　Had　probably　finished　packing　by　now。　If　there　was　any　use　to　it；　if　they　ever　did　leave。　The　only　man；　surrounded　by　a　wall　of　women　who　apparently　intended　to　let　him　beat　his　head　against　that　wall　till　his　brains　were　scrambled。　It　made　no　sense。　None。　They　looked　at　him；　waiting。
　　　Nynaeve；　in　yellow…slashed　lace…trimmed　blue；　had　pulled　her　braid　over　her　shoulder　so　it　hung　down　between　her　breasts；　but　that　heavy　gold　ring　…　Lan's　ring；　he　had　learned　…　was　carefully　positioned　to　show　anyway。　Her　face　was　smooth；　and　her　hands　rested　in　her　lap；　yet　sometimes　her　fingers　twitched。　Elayne；　in　green　Ebou　Dari　silk　that　made　Nynaeve　seem　covered　up　despite　the　smoky　lace　collar　under　her　chin；　gazed　back　at　him　with　eyes　like　cool　pools　of　deep　blue　water。　Her　hands　lay　in　her　lap　too；　but　now　and　again　she　would　begin　to　trace　the　thread…of…gold　embroidery　that　covered　her　skirts；　then　immediately　stop。　Why　did　they　not　say　something？　Were　they　trying　to　get　back　at　him？　Was　it　just　a　case　of　Mat　wants　to　be　in　charge　so　much；　let　him　see　how　well　he　can　do　without　us〃？　He　might　have　believed　it　of　Nynaeve；　any　time　but　this　anyway；　but　not　of　Elayne；　not　anymore。　So　why？
　　　Reanne　and　the　Wise　Women　did　not　huddle　away　from　him　as　they　did　from　the　Aes　Sedai；　but　their　manner　toward　him　had　changed。　Tamarla　gave　him　a　decently　respectful　nod。　Honey…haired　Famelle　went　so　far　as　a　friendly　smile。　Strangely；　Reanne　blushed；　a　pale　stain。　But　they　did　not　count　as　opposition；　really。　The　six　women　had　not　said　a　dozen　unprompted　words　between　them　since　entering　this　room。　Every　one　would　jump　if　Nynaeve　or　Elayne　snapped　her　fingers；　and　keep　jumping　until　told　to　stop。
　　　He　turned　to　the　rest　of　the　Aes　Sedai。　Faces　infinitely　calm；　infinitely　patient。　Except。。。　Merilille's　eyes　flickered　past　him　toward　Nynaeve　and　Elayne　for　one　instant。　Sareitha　began　slowly　smoothing　her　skirts　under　his　gaze；　seemingly　unaware　of　doing　so。　A　dark　suspicion　bloomed　in　his　mind。　Hands　moving　on　skirts。　Reanne's　blush。　Birgitte's　ready　quiver。　A　murky　suspicion。　He　did　not　really　know　of　what。　Just　that　he　had　been　going　about　this　the　wrong　way。　He　gave　Nynaeve　a　stern　look；　and　Elayne　a　sterner。　Butter　would　not　have　melted　on　their　bloody　tongues。
　　　Slowly　he　walked　toward　the　Sea　Folk。　He　just　walked；　but　he　heard　someone　with　Merilille　sniff；　and　Sareitha　muttered；　〃Such　insolence！〃　Well；　he　was　about　to　show　them　insolence。　If　Nynaeve　and　Elayne　did　not　like　it；　they　should　have　taken　him　into　their　confidence。　Light；　but　he　hated　being　used。　Especially　when　he　did　not　know　how；　or　why。
　　　Stopping　in　front　of　Renaile's　chair；　he　studied　the　dark　faces　of　the　Atha'an　Miere　women　behind　it　before　looking　down　to　her。　She　frowned；　stroking　a　knife　set　with　moonstones　thrust　behind　her　sash。　She　was　a　handsome　woman　rather　than　pretty；　somewhere　in　her　middle　years；　and　under　different　circumstances　he　might　have　enjoyed　looking　at　her　eyes。　They　were　large　black　pools　a　man　could　spend　an　evening　just　gazing　into。　Under　different　circumstances。　Somehow；　the　Sea　Folk　were　the　fly　in　the　cream　pitcher；　and　he　had　not　a　clue　how　to　pluck　it　out。　He　managed　to　keep　his　irritation　under　control。　Barely。　What　to　bloody　do？
　　　〃You　can　all　channel；　I　understand；〃　he　said　quietly；　〃but　that　doesn't　mean　much　to　me。〃　As　well　be　straight　from　the　start。　〃You　can　ask　Adeleas　or　Vandene　how　much　I　care　whether　a　woman　can　channel。〃
　　　Renaile　looked　past　him　toward　Tylin；　but　it　was　not　to　the　Queen　she　spoke。　〃Nynaeve　Sedai？'〃　she　said　dryly；　〃I　believe　there　was　no　mention　in　your　bargain　of　my　having　to　listen　to　this　young　oakum　picker。　I　…　〃
　　　〃I　don't　bloody　care　about　your　bargains　with　anybody　else；　you　daughter　of　the　sands；〃　Mat　snapped。　So　his　irritation　was　not　that　well　under　control。　A　man　could　only　take　so　much。
　　　Gasps　rose　among　the　women　behind　her。　Something　over　a　thousand　years　ago　a　Sea　Folk　woman　had　called　an　Essenian　soldier　a　son　of　the　sands　just　before　trying　to　plant　a　blade　in　his　ribs；　the　memory　lay　tucked　inside　Mat　Cauthon's　head；　now。　It　was　not　the　worst　insult　among　the　Atha'an　Miere；　but　it　came　close。　Renaile's　face　gorged　with　blood；　hissing；　eyes　bulging　in　fury；　she　leaped　to　her　feet；　that　moonstone…studded　dagger　flashing　in　her　fist。
　　　Mat　snatched　it　out　of　her　hand　before　the　blade　could　reach　his　chest　and　shoved　her　back　into　her　chair。　He　did　have　quick　hands。　He　could　still　hold　on　to　his　temper；　too。　No　matter　how　many　women　thought　they　could　dance　him　for　a　puppet；　he　could　…　〃You　listen　to　me；　you　bilge　stone。〃　All　right；　maybe　he　could　not　hold　it。　〃Nynaeve　and　Elayne　need　you；　or　I'd　leave　you　for　the　gholam　to　crack　your　bones　and　the　Black　Ajah　to　pick　over　what's　left。　Well；　as　far　as　you're　concerned；　I'm　the　Master　of　the　Blades；　and　my　blades　are　bare。〃　What　that　meant　exactly；　he　had　no　idea；　except　for　having　once　heard；　〃When　the　blades　are　bare；　even　the　Mistress　of　the　Ships　bows　to　the　Master　of　the　Blades。〃　〃This　is　the　bargain　between　you　and　me。　You　go　where　Nynaeve　and　Elayne　want；　and　in　return；　I　won't　tie　the　lot　of　you　across　horses　like　packsaddles　and　haul　you　there！〃
　　　That　was　no　way　to　go　on；　not　with　the　Windfinder　to　the　Mistress　of　the　Ships。　Not　with　a　bilgeboy　off　a　broken…backed　darter；　for　that　matter。　Renaile　quivered　with　the　effort　of　not　going　for　him　with　her　bare　hands；　and　never　mind　her　dagger　in　his　hand。　〃It　is　agreed；　under　the　Light！〃　she　growled。　Her　eyes　nearly　started　ou