rj.thepathofdaggers-第7部分

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　　　　　　　〃I　couldn't。。。　speak　out。。。　against　Galina's　decision。　She　led。。。　by　the　Amyrlin's　mand。〃　Beldeine　shifted　again；　weakly。　Her　voice　was　still　dreamy；　but　it　picked　up　an　agitated　edge。　Her　eyelids　fluttered。　〃He　had　to。。。　be　made。。。　to　obey！　He　had　to　be！　Shouldn't　have　been。。。　treated　so　harshly。　Like　putting。。。　him　to。。。　question。　Wrong。〃
　　　　　　　Verin　snorted。　Wrong？　Disastrous　was　more　like　it。　A　disaster　from　the　first。　Now　the　man　looked　at　any　Aes　Sedai　almost　the　way　Aeron　did。　And　if　they　had　succeeded　in　carrying　him　to　Tar　Valon？　A　ta'veren　like　Rand　al'Thor　actually　inside　the　White　Tower？　A　thought　to　make　a　stone　tremble。　However　it　had　turned　out；　disaster　would　surely　have　been　too　mild　a　word。　The　price　paid　at　Dumai's　Wells　was　small　enough；　for　avoiding　that。
　　　　　　　She　went　on　asking　questions　in　a　tone　that　could　be　heard　clearly　by　anyone　listening　outside。　Asking　questions　she　already　had　answers　for；　and　avoiding　those　too　dangerous　to　be　answered。　She　paid　little　heed　to　the　words　ing　out　of　her　mouth　or　to　Beldeine's　replies。　Mainly　she　concentrated　on　her　weaving。
　　　　　　　A　great　many　things　had　captured　her　interest　over　the　years；　not　all　strictly　approved　of　by　the　Tower。　Almost　every　wilder　who　came　to　the　White　Tower　for　training　…　both　true　wilders；　who　really　had　begun　teaching　themselves；　and　girls　who　merely　had　started　touching　the　Source　because　the　spark　born　in　them　had　quickened　on　its　own；　for　some　sisters；　there　was　no　real　difference　…　nearly　every　one　of　those　wilders　had　created　at　least　one　trick　for　herself；　and　those　tricks　almost　invariably　fell　under　one　of　two　headings。　A　way　to　listen　in　on　other　people's　conversations　or　a　way　of　making　people　do　as　they　wanted。
　　　　　　　The　first；　the　Tower　did　not　care　much　about。　Even　a　wilder　who　had　gained　considerable　control　on　her　own　quickly　learned　that　as　long　as　she　wore　novice　white；　she　was　not　to　so　much　as　touch　saidar　without　a　sister　or　one　of　the　Accepted　standing　over　her。　Which　did　tend　to　limit　eavesdropping　rather　sharply。　The　other　trick；　however；　smelled　too　akin　to　forbidden　pulsion。　Oh；　it　was　just　a　way　to　make　Father　give　her　dresses　or　trinkets　he　did　not　want　to　buy；　or　make　Mother　approve　of　young　men　she　ordinarily　ran　off；　things　of　that　nature；　but　the　Tower　rooted　the　trick　out　most　effectively。　Many　of　the　girls　and　women　Verin　had　spoken　to　over　the　years　could　not　make　themselves　form　the　weaves；　much　less　use　them；　and　a　fair　number　could　not　even　make　themselves　remember　how。　From　bits　and　pieces　and　scraps　of　half…remembered　weaves　created　by　untrained　girls　for　very　limited　purposes；　Verin　had　reconstructed　a　thing　forbidden　by　the　Tower　since　its　founding。　In　the　beginning　it　had　been　simple　curiosity　on　her　part。　Curiosity；　she　thought　wryly；　working　at　the　weave　on　Beldeine；　has　made　me　climb　into　more　than　one　pickling　kettle。　Usefulness　came　later。
　　　　　　　〃I　suppose　Elaida　meant　to　keep　him　down　in　the　open　cells；〃　she　said　conversationally。　The　grill…walled　cells　were　intended　for　men　who　could　channel；　as　well　as　initiates　of　the　Tower　under　close　arrest；　wilders　who　had　claimed　to　be　Aes　Sedai；　and　anyone　else　who　must　be　both　confined　and　blocked　off　from　the　Source。　〃Not　a　fortable　place　for　the　Dragon　Reborn。　No　privacy。　Do　you　believe　he　is　the　Dragon　Reborn；　Beldeine？〃　This　time　she　paused　to　listen。
　　　　　　　〃Yes。〃　The　word　was　a　long　hiss；　and　Beldeine　rolled　frightened　eyes　toward　Verin's　face。　〃Yes。。。　but　he　must。。。　be　kept。。。　safe。　The　world。。。　must　be。。。　safe。。。　from　him。〃
　　　　　　　Interesting。　They　had　all　said　the　world　had　to　be　kept　safe　from　him；　what　was　interesting　was　those　who　thought　he　needed　protection；　too。　Some　who　had　said　that；　surprised　her。
　　　　　　　To　Verin's　eyes；　the　weave　she　had　made　resembled　nothing　so　much　as　a　haphazard　tangle　of　faintly　glowing　transparent　threads　all　bundled　around　Beldeine's　head；　with　four　threads　of　Spirit　trailing　out　of　the　mess。　Two　of　those；　opposite　one　another；　she　pulled；　and　the　tangle　collapsed　slightly；　falling　inward；　into　something　on　the　edge　of　order。　Beldeine's　eyes　shot　open　wide；　staring　into　the　far　distance。
　　　　　　　In　a　firm；　low　voice；　Verin　gave　her　instructions。　More　like　suggestions；　though　she　phrased　them　as　mands。　Beldeine　would　have　to　find　reasons　within　herself　to　obey；　if　she　did　not；　then　all　this　had　been　so　much　wasted　effort。
　　　　　　　With　the　final　words；　Verin　pulled　the　other　two　threads　of　Spirit；　and　the　tangle　collapsed　further。　This　time；　though；　it　fell　into　what　seemed　perfect　order；　a　pattern　more　precise；　more　plicated　than　the　most　intricate　lace；　and　plete；　tied　off　by　the　same　action　that　began　its　shrinking。　This　time；　it　continued　to　fall　inward　on　itself；　inward　around　Beldeine's　head。　Those　faintly　glowing　threads　sank　into　her；　vanished。　Her　eyes　rolled　back　in　her　head；　and　she　began　to　thrash；　limbs　quivering。　Verin　held　her　as　gently　as　she　could；　but　Beldeine's　head　still　whipped　from　side　to　side；　and　her　bare　heels　drummed　on　the　carpets。　Soon；　only　the　most　careful　Delving　would　tell　that　anything　had　been　done；　and　not　even　that　would　identify　the　weave。　Verin　had　tested　that　carefully；　and　if　she　did　say　so　herself；　none　surpassed　her　at　Delving。
　　　　　　　Of　course　the　thing　was　not　truly　pulsion　as　ancient　texts　described　it。　The　weaving　went　with　painful　slowness；　cobbled　together　as　it　was；　and　there　was　that　need　for　a　reason。　It　helped　a　great　deal　if　the　object　of　the　weave　was　emotionally　vulnerable；　but　trust　was　absolutely　essential。　Even　catching　someone　by　surprise　did　no　good　if　they　were　suspicious。　That　fact　cut　down　its　usefulness　with　men　considerably；　very　few　men　lacked　suspicion　around　Aes　Sedai。
　　　　　　　Distrust　aside；　men　were　very　bad　subjects；　unfortunately。　She　could　not　understand　why。　Most　of　those　girls'　weaves　had　been　intended　for　their　fathers　or　other　men。　Any　strong　personality　might　begin　to　question　his　own　actions　…　or　even　forget　doing　them；　which　led　to　another　set　of　problems　…　but　all　things　being　equal；　men　were　much　more　likely　to。　Much　more　likely。　Perhaps　it　was　the　suspicion　again。　Why；　once　a　man　had　even　remembered　the　weaves　being　woven　on　him；　if　not　the　instructions　she　had　given　him。　Such　a　lot　of　bother　that　caused！　Not　something　she　would　risk　again。
　　　　　　　At　last　Beldeine's　convulsions　lessened；　stopped。　She　raised　a　filthy　hand　to　her　head。　〃What　…？　What　happened？〃　she　said；　almost　inaudibly。　〃Did　I　faint？〃　Forgetfulness　was　another　good　point　about　the　weave；　not　unexpectedly。　After　all；　Father　must　not　remember　that　you　somehow　made　him　buy　that　expensive　dress。
　　　　　　　〃The　heat　is　very　bad；〃　Verin　said；　helping　her　to　sit　up　again。　〃I　have　felt　light…headed　myself　once　or　twice　today。〃　From　weariness；　not　heat。　Handling　that　much　of　saidar　took　it　out　of　you；　especially　when　you　had　already　done　it　four　times　today。　The　angreal　did　nothing　to　buffer　the　effects　once　you　stopped　using　it。　She　could　have　used　a　steadying　hand　herself。　〃I　think　that's　about　enough。　If　you're　fainting；　perhaps　they'll　find　something　for　you　to　do　out　of　the　sun。〃　The　prospect　did　not　seem　to　cheer　Beldeine　at　all。
　　　　　　　Rubbing　the　small　of　her　back；　Verin　stuck　her　head　out　of　the　tent。　Coram　and　Mendan　stopped　their　game　of　cat's　cradle　once　more；　there　was　no　sign　that　either　had　listened；　but　she　would　not　wager　her　life　on　it。　She　told　them　that　she　was　finished　with　Beldeine　and；　after　a　moment's　thought；　added　that　she　needed　another　pitcher　of　water　since　Beldeine　had　overturned　hers。　Both　men's　faces　darkened　beneath　their　tans。　That　would　be　passed　along　to　the　Wise　One　who　came　for　Beldeine。　It　would　serve　as　something　more　to　help　her　reach　her　decision。
　　　　　　　The　sun　still　had　a　long　way　to　fall　to　the　horizon；　but　the　ache　in　her　back　told　her　it　was　time　to　stop　for　the　day。　She　could　still　do　one　more　sister；　but　if　she　did；　by　morning　she　would　feel　it　in　every　muscle。　Her　eyes　fell　on　Irgain；　now　with　the　women　carrying　baskets　to　the　handmills。　How　would　her　life　have　gone　if　she　had　not　been　so　curious；　Verin　wondered。　For　one　thing；　she　would　have　married　Eadwin　and　remained　in　Far　Madding　instead　of　going　to　the　White　Tower。　She　would　be　long　dead；　for　another；　and　the　children　she　had　never　had；　and　her　grandchildren；　too。
　　　　　　　With　a　sigh；　she　turned　back　to　Coram。　〃When　Mendan　returns；　would　you　go　tell　Colinda　that　I　would　like　to　see　Irgain　Fatamed？〃　The　pain　in　her　muscles　tomorrow　would　be　a　small　penance　for　Beldeine's　suffering　over　that　spilled　water；　but　that　was　not　why　she　did　it；　or　even　her　curiosity；　really。　She　still　had　a　task。　Somehow；　she　had　to　keep　young　Rand　alive　until　it　was　time　for　him　to　die。
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　The　room　might　have　been　in　a　grand　palace；　except　that　it　had　neither　windows　nor　doors。　The　fire　on　a　golden　marble　hearth　gave　no　heat；　and　the　flames　did　not　consume　the　logs。　The　man　seated　at　a　table　with　gilded　legs；　centered　on　a　silk　carpet　woven　with　glittering　threads　of　gold　and　silver；　cared　little　for　the　trappings　of　this　Age。　They　were　necessary　to　impress；　no　more。　Not　that　he　really　needed　more　than　himself　to　overawe　the　stiffest　pride。　He　called　himself　Moridi