rj.theshadowrising-第111节

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rn　was　not　already　like　this。　No。　He　had　to　be　in　time　to　stop　that。　〃They'll　know　how　things　are。〃
　　　　　　　〃Early；　then。〃　Gaul　hesitated。　〃You　will　not　drive　her　off。　That　one　is　almost　Far　Dareis　Mai；　and　if　a　Maiden　loves　you；　you　cannot　escape　her　however　hard　you　run。〃
　　　　　　　〃You　let　me　worry　about　Faile。〃　He　softened　his　voice；　it　was　not　Gaul　he　wanted　to　be　rid　of。　〃Very　early。　While　Faile　is　still　asleep。〃
　　　　　　　Both　camps；　beneath　the　apple　trees；　were　quiet　that　night。　Several　times　one　or　the　other　of　the　Aid　women　stood；　staring　toward　the　small　fire　where　he　and　Gaul　sat；　but　an　owl　hooting　and　the　horses　stamping　were　the　only　sounds。　Perrin　could　not　sleep；　and　it　was　still　an　hour　short　of　first　light；　with　the　full　moon　setting；　when　he　and　Gaul　slipped　away；　the　Aiel　silent　in　his　soft　boots　and　the　horses'　hooves　making　little　more　noise。　Bain；　or　maybe　Chiad；　watched　them　go。　He　could　not　tell　which；　but　she　did　not　wake　Faile；　and　he　was　grateful。
　　　　　　　The　sun　had　climbed　well　up　by　the　time　they　came　out　of　the　Westwood　a　little　below　the　village；　amid　cart　tracks　and　paths；　most　bordered　by　hedges　or　low　rough　stone　walls。　Smoke　made　feathery　gray　plumes　above　farmhouse　chimneys；　goodwives　doing　the　morning's　baking；　by　the　smell。　Men　dotted　the　fields　of　tabac　or　barley；　and　boys　watched　flocks　of　black…faced　sheep　in　the　pastures。　Some　people　took　note　of　their　passing；　but　Perrin　kept　Stepper　at　a　fast　walk　and　hoped　none　were　close　enough　to　recognize　him　or　wonder　at　the　strangeness　of　Gaul's　clothes；　or　his　spears。
　　　　　　　People　would　be　out　and　about　in　Emond's　Field；　too；　so　he　circled　around　to　the　east；　wide　of　the　village；　wide　of　the　hard　packed　dirt　streets　and　thatched　roofs　clustered　around　the　Green；　where　the　Winespring　itself　gushed　from　a　stone　outcrop　with　enough　force　to　knock　a　man　down　and　gave　birth　to　the　Winespring　Water。　The　damage　he　remembered　from　Winternight　a　year　gone；　the　burned　houses　and　charred　roofs；　were　all　rebuilt　and　repaired。　The　Trollocs　might　as　well　never　have　e　back　then。　He　prayed　no　one　would　have　to　live　through　that　again。　The　Winespring　Inn　stood　practically　at　the　eastern　end　of　Emond's　Field；　between　the　stout　wooden　Wagon　Bridge　across　the　rushing　Winespring　Water　and　a　huge　old　stone　foundation　with　a　great　oak　growing　up　through　the　middle　of　it。　Tables　beneath　the　thick　branches　were　where　folk　sat　of　a　fine　afternoon　and　watched　the　play　at　bowls。　At　this　hour　of　the　morning；　the　tables　were　empty；　of　course。　There　were　only　a　few　houses　farther　east。　The　inn　itself　was　river　rock　on　the　first　floor；　with　a　whitewashed　second　story　jutting　out　all　the　way　around　and　a　dozen　chimneys　rising　above　a　glittering　red　tile　roof；　the　only　tile　roof　for　miles。
　　　　　　　Tying　Stepper　and　the　packhorse　to　a　hitchpost　near　the　kitchen　door；　Perrin　glanced　at　the　thatch　roofed　stable。　He　could　hear　men　working　in　there；　probably　Hu　and　Tad；　mucking　out　the　stalls　where　Master　al'Vere　kept　the　big　Dhurran　team　he　rented　out　for　heavy　hauling。　There　were　sounds　from　the　other　side　of　the　inn；　too；　the　murmur　of　voices　on　the　Green；　geese　honking；　the　rumble　of　a　wagon。　What　was　on　the　horses；　he　left；　this　would　be　a　short　stop。　He　motioned　for　Gaul　to　follow　and　hurried　inside；　carrying　his　bow；　before　either　stableman　could　e　out。
　　　　　　　The　kitchen　was　empty；　both　iron　stoves　and　all　but　one　fireplace　cold；　though　the　smell　of　baking　still　hung　in　the　air。　Bread　and　honeycakes。　The　inn　seldom　had　guests　except　when　merchants　came　down　from　Baerlon　to　buy　wool　or　tabac；　or　a　monthly　peddler　when　snow　had　not　made　the　road　impassable；　and　the　village　folk　who　might　e　for　a　drink　or　a　meal　later　in　the　day　would　all　be　hard　at　work　at　their　own　homes　now。　Someone　might　be　there；　though；　so　Perrin　tiptoed　along　the　short　hallway　leading　from　the　kitchen　to　the　mon　room　and　cracked　the　door　to　peek　inside。
　　　　　　　He　had　seen　that　square　room　a　thousand　times；　with　its　fireplace　of　river　stones　stretching　half　the　room's　length；　the　lintel　as　high　as　a　man's　shoulder；　Master　al'Vere's　polished　tabac　canister　and　prized　clock　sitting　on　the　mantel。　It　all　seemed　smaller　than　it　had；　somehow。　The　tall…backed　chairs　in　front　of　the　fireplace　were　where　the　Village　Council　met。　Brandelwyn　al'Vere's　books　sat　on　a　shelf　opposite　the　fireplace　…　once；　Perrin　had　been　unable　to　imagine　more　books　in　one　place　than　those　few　dozen　mostly　worn　volumes　…　and　casks　of　ale　and　wine　lined　another　wall。　Scratch；　the　inn's　yellow　cat；　sprawled　asleep　as　usual　atop　one。
　　　　　　　Except　for　Bran　al'Vere　himself　and　his　wife；　Marin；　in　long　white　aprons；　polishing　the　inn's　silver　and　pewter　at　one　of　the　tables；　the　mon　room　stood　empty。　Master　al'Vere　was　a　wide；　round　man；　with　a　sparse　fringe　of　gray　hair；　Mistress　al'Vere　was　slender　and　motherly；　her　thick；　graying　braid　pulled　over　one　shoulder。　She　smelled　of　baking；　and　under　that　of　roses。　Perrin　remembered　them　as　smiling　people；　but　both　looked　intent　now；　and　the　Mayor　wore　a　frown　that　surely　had　nothing　to　do　with　the　silver　cup　in　his　hands。
　　　　　　　〃Master　al'Vere？〃　He　pushed　open　the　door　and　went　in。　〃Mistress　al'Vere。　It's　Perrin。〃
　　　　　　　They　sprang　to　their　feet；　knocking　their　chairs　over　and　making　Scratch　jump。　Mistress　al'Vere　clapped　her　hands　to　her　mouth；　she　and　her　husband　gaped　as　much　at　him　as　they　did　at　Gaul。　It　was　enough　to　make　Perrin　shift　his　bow　awkwardly　from　hand　to　hand。　Especially　when　Bran　hurried　to　one　of　the　front　windows　…　he　moved　with　surprising　lightness　for　a　man　of　his　bulk　…　and　twitched　the　summer　curtains　aside　to　peer　out；　as　though　for　more　Aiel　outside。
　　　　　　　〃Perrin？〃　Mistress　al'Vere　murmured　disbelievingly。　〃It　is　you。　I　almost　didn't　know　you；　with　that　beard；　and　…　Your　cheek。　Were　you…？　Is　Egwene　with　you？〃
　　　　　　　Perrin　touched　the　half…healed　slash　across　his　cheek　self…consciously；　wishing　he　had　cleaned　up；　or　at　least　left　the　bow　and　axe　in　the　kitchen。　He　had　not　considered　how　his　appearance　might　frighten　them。　〃No。　This　has　nothing　to　do　with　her。　She　is　safe。〃　Safer　on　her　way　back　to　Tar　Valon；　perhaps；　than　if　still　in　Tear　with　Rand；　but　safe　in　either　case。　He　supposed　he　had　to　give　Egwene's　mother　something　more　than　that　bald　statement。　〃Mistress　al'Vere；　Egwene　is　studying　to　be　Aes　Sedai。　Nynaeve；　too。〃
　　　　　　　〃I　know；〃　she　said　quietly；　touching　the　pocket　on　her　apron。　〃I　have　three　letters　from　her　in　Tar　Valon。　From　what　she　writes　she　sent　more；　and　Nynaeve　at　least　one；　but　only　three　of　Egwene's　have　reached　us。　She　tells　something　of　her　training；　which　I　must　say　sounds　very　hard。〃
　　　　　　　〃It　is　what　she　wants。〃　Three　letters？　Guilt　made　him　shrug　unfortably。　He　had　not　written　a　letter　to　anyone；　not　since　the　notes　he　had　left　for　his　family　and　Master　Luhhan　the　night　Moiraine　took　him　away　from　Emond's　Field。　Not　one。
　　　　　　　〃So　it　seems；　though　not　what　I　had　envisioned　for　her。　It　isn't　something　I　can　tell　many　people　about；　now　is　it？　She　says　she's　made　friends；　anyway；　nice　girls　by　the　sound　of　them。　Elayne；　and　Min。　Do　you　know　them？〃
　　　　　　　〃We　have　met。　I　think　you　could　call　them　nice　girls。〃　How　much　had　Egwene　told　in　those　letters？　Not　much；　evidently。　Let　Mistress　al'Vere　think　what　she　would；　he　had　no　intention　of　worrying　her　over　things　she　could　do　nothing　about。　What　was　past；　was　past。　Egwene　was　safe　enough　now。
　　　　　　　Abruptly　realizing　that　Gaul　was　just　standing　there；　he　made　hasty　introductions。　Bran　blinked　when　Gaul　was　named　Aiel；　and　frowned　at　his　spears　and　the　black　veil　hanging　down　his　chest　from　his　shoufa；　but　his　wife　merely　said；　〃Be　wele　to　Emond's　Field；　Master　Gaul；　and　to　the　Winespring　Inn。〃
　　　　　　　〃May　you　always　have　water　and　shade；　roofmistress；〃　Gaul　said　formally；　bowing　to　her。　〃I　ask　leave　to　defend　your　roof　and　hold。〃
　　　　　　　She　barely　hesitated　before　replying　as　if　that　were　exactly　what　she　was　used　to　hearing。　〃A　gracious　offer。　But　you　must　allow　me　to　decide　when　it　is　needed。〃
　　　　　　　〃As　you　say；　roofmistress。　Your　honor　is　mine。〃　From　under　his　coat；　Gaul　produced　a　gold　saltcellar；　a　small　bowl　balanced　on　the　back　of　a　cunningly　made　lion；　and　extended　it　to　her。　〃I　offer　this　small　guest　gift　to　your　roof。〃
　　　　　　　Marin　al'Vere　made　over　it　as　she　would　have　any　gift；　hardly　showing　her　shock。　Perrin　doubted　there　was　a　piece　to　equal　it　in　the　whole　Two　Rivers；　certainly　not　in　gold。　There　was　little　enough　gold　coin　in　the　Two　Rivers；　much　less　gold　ornaments。　He　hoped　she　never　found　out　it　had　been　looted　from　the　Stone　of　Tear；　at　least　he　would　have　wagered　that　it　had。
　　　　　　　〃My　boy；〃　Bran　said；　〃perhaps　I　should　be　saying　'wele　home；'　but　why　did　you　return？〃
　　　　　　　〃I　heard　about　the　Whitecloaks；　sir；〃　Perrin　replied　simply。
　　　　　　　The　Mayor　and　his　wife　shared　somber　looks；　and　Bran　said；　〃Again；　why　did　you　return？　You　cannot　stop　anything；　my　boy；　or　change　anything。　Best　that　you　go。　If　you　don't　have　a　horse；　I　will　give　you　one。　If　you　do；　climb　back　in　your　saddle　and　ride　north。　I　thought　the　Whitecloaks　were　guarding　Taren　Ferry。。。　Did　they　give　you　that　decoration　on　your　face？〃
　　　　　　　〃No。　It　…〃
　　　　　　　〃Then　it　doesn't　matter。　If