rj.acrownofswords-第75节

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his　one。　He　could　feel　the　dice　tumbling　in　his　head　suddenly；　and　that　was　always　a　bad　sign。
　　　
　　　
Chapter　15　
（Snakey　Square）　
Insects　
　　　
　　　Carridin　did　not　look　up　immediately　from　the　letter　he　was　writing　when　the　Lady　Shiaine；　as　she　called　herself；　was　shown　in。　Three　ants　struggled　futilely　in　the　wet　ink；　trapped。　Everything　else　might　be　dying；　but　ants　and　cockroaches　and　every　sort　of　vermin　seemed　to　thrive。　Carefully　he　pressed　the　blotter　down。　He　was　not　about　to　begin　again　for　a　few　ants。　A　failure　to　send　this　report；　or　a　report　of　failure；　might　doom　him　as　surely　as　those　mired　insects；　yet　it　was　fear　of　a　different　failure　that　tightened　his　guts。
　　　He　had　no　worry　of　Shiaine　reading　what　he　wrote。　It　was　in　a　cipher　known　to　only　two　men　beside　himself。　So　many　bands　of　〃Dragonsworn〃　at　work；　each　stiffened　by　a　core　of　his　most　trusted　men；　so　many　more　who　might　be　bandits　or　even　truly　sworn　to　that　filth；　al'Thor。　Pedron　Niall　might　not　like　that　last；　but　his　mand　had　been　to　plunge　Altara　and　Murandy　into　blood　and　chaos　from　which　only　Niall　and　the　Children　of　the　Light　could　rescue　them；　a　madness　clearly　to　be　laid　at　the　feet　of　this　so…called　Dragon　Reborn；　and　that　he　had　done。　Fear　held　both　countries　by　the　throat。　Tales　that　the　witches　marched　across　the　same　country　were　an　added　reward。　Tar　Valon　witches　and　Dragonsworn；　Aes　Sedai　carrying　off　young　women　and　setting　up　false　Dragons；　villages　in　flames　and　men　nailed　to　the　doors　of　their　barns　…　it　was　all　one　in　half　the　street　rumors；　now。　Niall　would　be　pleased。　And　send　more　orders。　How　he　expected　Carridin　to　snatch　Elayne　Trakand　out　of　the　Tarasin　Palace　was　beyond　reason。
　　　Another　ant　skittered　across　the　ivory…inlaid　table　onto　the　page；　and　his　thumb　stabbed　down；　destroying　it。　And　smearing　a　word　to　illegibility。　The　entire　report　would　need　to　be　redone。　He　wanted　a　drink　very　badly。　There　was　brandy　in　a　crystal　flask　on　the　table　by　the　door；　but　he　did　not　want　the　woman　to　see　him　drinking。　Suppressing　a　sigh；　he　shoved　the　letter　aside　and　pulled　a　kerchief　from　his　sleeve　to　wipe　his　hand。　〃So；　Shiaine；　do　you　finally　have　progress　to　report？　Or　have　you　just　e　for　more　money？〃
　　　She　smiled　at　him　lazily　from　a　tall　carved　armchair。　〃There　are　expenses　associated　with　a　search；〃　she　said　in　almost　the　accents　of　an　Andoran　noble。　〃Especially　when　we　want　no　questions　asked。〃
　　　Most　people　would　have　been　unsettled　by　the　sight　of　Jaichim　Carridin；　even　cleaning　a　pen　nib；　with　his　steely　face　and　deep…set　eyes；　the　white　tabard　over　his　coat　bearing　the　golden　sunburst　of　the　Children　of　the　Light　impressed　upon　the　crimson　shepherd's　crook　of　the　Hand。　Not　Mili　Skane。　That　was　her　real　name；　though　she　did　not　know　he　knew。　A　saddler's　daughter　from　a　village　near　Whitebridge；　she　had　gone　to　the　White　Tower　at　fifteen；　another　thing　she　thought　secret。　It　was　hardly　the　best　start；　being　a　Friend　of　the　Dark　because　the　witches　told　her　she　could　not　learn　to　channel；　but　before　that　year　was　out　she　had　not　only　found　a　circle　in　Caemlyn　but　made　her　first　kill。　In　the　seven　years　since；　she　had　added　nineteen　more。　She　was　one　of　the　best　assassins　available；　and　a　hunter　who　could　find　anyone　or　anything。　That　much　he　had　been　told　when　she　was　sent　to　him。　A　circle　reported　to　her　now。　Several　of　them　actually　were　nobles　and　almost　all　were　older；　but　neither　thing　mattered　among　those　who　served　the　Great　Lord。　Another　circle　working　for　Carridin　was　led　by　a　gnarled　beggar　with　one　eye；　no　teeth　and　a　habit　of　bathing　only　once　in　the　year。　Had　circumstances　been　different；　Carridin　himself　would　have　knelt　to　Old　Cully；　the　only　name　the　stinking　villain　admitted　to。　Mili　Skane　surely　groveled　for　Old　Cully；　and　so　did　every　last　panion　of　her　circle；　noble　or　not。　It　irritated　Carridin　that　〃Lady　Shiaine〃　would　be　on　her　knees　in　a　flash　if　the　straggly…haired　old　beggar　entered　the　room；　but　for　him　sat　with　her　legs　crossed；　smiling　and　twitching　her　slippered　foot　as　if　impatient　to　be　done。　She　had　been　ordered　to　obey　him　absolutely；　by　one　even　Old　Cully　would　grovel　for；　and　besides；　he　had　a　desperate　need　of　success。　Niall's　schemes　could　go　to　dust；　but　not　this。
　　　〃Many　things　can　be　excused；〃　he　said；　laying　the　pen　on　its　ivory　stand　and　shoving　back　his　chair；　〃for　those　who　acplish　the　tasks　they　are　given。〃　He　was　a　tall　man；　and　he　loomed　threateningly。　He　was　well　aware　that　the　gilt…framed　mirrors　on　the　wall　showed　a　figure　of　strength；　a　dangerous　man。　〃Even　dresses　and　baubles　and　gambling；　paid　for　with　coin　that　was　to　go　for　information。〃　That　twitching　foot　froze　for　instant；　then　began　again；　but　her　smile　was　forced；　her　face　pale。　Her　circle　obeyed　her　instantly；　but　they　would　string　her　up　by　the　heels　and　skin　her　alive　if　he　spoke　the　word。　〃You　have　not　acplished　very　much；　have　you？　In　fact；　you　do　not　seem　to　have　acplished　anything。〃
　　　〃There　are　difficulties；　as　you　well　know；〃　she　said　breathily。　She　managed　to　meet　his　eyes　squarely；　though。
　　　〃Excuses。　Tell　me　of　difficulties　surmounted；　not　those　you　stumble　over　and　fall。　You　can　fall　a　long　way　if　you　fail　in　this。〃　Turning　his　back；　he　strode　to　the　nearest　window。　He　could　fall　a　long　way；　too；　and　he　did　not　want　to　risk　her　seeing　anything　in　his　eyes。　Sunlight　slanted　through　the　ornate　stone　screen。　The　high…ceilinged　room；　with　its　green…and…white…tiled　floor　and　bright　blue　walls；　stayed　paratively　cool　behind　the　thick　walls　of　the　palace；　but　the　heat　outside　seeped　in　near　the　windows。　He　could　almost　feel　the　brandy　across　the　room。　He　could　not　wait　for　her　to　be　gone。
　　　〃My　Lord　Carridin；　how　can　I　have　anyone　ask　too　openly　about　objects　of　the　Power？　That　will　cause　questions；　and　there　are　Aes　Sedai　in　the　city；　you　will　recall。〃
　　　Peering　down　at　the　street　through　the　scroll…carvings；　he　wrinkled　his　nose　at　the　smell。　Every　sort　was　jammed　together　down　there。　An　Arafellin　with　his　hair　in　two　long　braids　and　a　curved　sword　on　his　back　tossed　a　coin　to　a　one…armed　beggar；　who　scowled　at　the　gift　before　tucking　it　under　his　rags　and　resuming　his　piteous　cries　to　the　passersby。　A　fellow　in　a　torn；　bright　red　coat　and　even　brighter　yellow　breeches　came　running　from　a　shop　clutching　a　bolt　of　cloth　to　his　chest；　pursued　by　a　shouting　pale…haired　woman　who　had　her　skirts　pulled　above　her　knees　and　was　outpacing　the　burly　guard　who　lumbered　behind　her　waving　his　truncheon。　The　driver　of　a　red…lacquered　coach　with　the　moneylenders'　gold　coins　and　open　hand　on　the　door　shook　his　whip　at　the　driver　of　a　canvas…covered　wagon　whose　team　had　bee　entangled　with　the　coach's；　the　man　filling　the　street　with　curses。　Grimy　street　urchins　crouched　behind　a　dilapidated　cart　while　they　snatched　puny；　shriveled　fruit　brought　in　from　the　country。　A　Taraboner　woman　pushed　her　way　through　the　crowd；　veiled；　her　dark　hair　in　thin　braids；　drawing　every　male　eye　in　her　dusty　red　dress　that　shaped　itself　to　her　form　shamelessly。
　　　〃My　Lord；　I　must　have　time。　I　must！　I　cannot　do　the　impossible；　certainly　not　in　days。〃
　　　Trash；　all　of　them。　Grubbers　for　gold　and　Hunters　for　the　Horn；　thieves；　refugees；　even　Tinkers。　Scum。　Riots　would　be　easy　to　start；　a　purge　for　all　this　filth。　Outlanders　were　always　the　first　targets；　always　to　blame　for　whatever　was　wrong；　along　with　neighbors　who　had　the　misfortune　to　be　on　the　wrong　side　of　grudges；　women　who　peddled　herbs　and　cures；　and　folk　with　no　friends；　especially　if　they　lived　alone。　Properly　guided；　as　carefully　as　such　things　could　be；　a　good　riot　might　well　burn　the　Tarasin　Palace　down　around　that　useless　jade　Tylin　and　the　witches　as　well。　He　glared　at　the　swarm　below。　Riots　did　tend　to　get　out　of　hand；　the　Civil　Guard　might　stir　itself；　and　inevitably　a　handful　of　true　Friends　would　be　snapped　up。　He　could　not　afford　the　chance　that　some　of　those　might　be　from　the　circles　he　had　hunting。　For　that　matter；　even　a　few　days　of　rioting　would　disrupt　their　work。　Tylin　was　not　important　enough　for　that；　she　did　not　matter　at　all；　in　truth。　No；　not　yet。　Niall；　he　could　afford　to　disappoint；　but　not　his　true　master。
　　　〃My　Lord　Carridin。。。〃　A　note　of　defiance　had　entered　Shiaine's　voice。　He　had　let　her　stew　too　long。　〃My　Lord　Carridin；　some　of　my　circle　question　why　we　are　looking　for。。。　〃
　　　He　started　to　turn；　to　put　her　down　hard　…　he　needed　success；　not　excuses；　not　questions！　…　but　her　voice　dwindled　to　nothing　as　his　eyes　fell　on　a　young　man　standing　diagonally　across　the　street；　in　a　blue　coat　with　enough　red…and…gold　embroidery　on　the　sleeves　and　lapels　for　two　nobles。　Taller　than　most；　he　was　fanning　himself　with　a　broad…brimmed　black　hat　and　adjusting　his　neck　scarf　as　he　spoke　to　a　stooped；　white…haired　man。　Carridin　recognized　the　young　man。
　　　Suddenly　he　felt　as　though　a　knotted　rope　had　been　fastened　around　his　head　and　was　being　drawn　ever　tighter。　For　an　instant　a　face　hidden　behind　a　red　mask　filled　his　vision。　Night…dark　eyes　stared　at　him；　and　then　were　endless　caverns　of　flame；　and　still　staring。　Within　his　head；　the　world　exploded　in　fire；　cascading　images　that　battered　him　an