rj.thepathofdaggers-第91部分

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ne　felt　a　stab　of　agony　through　the　bond；　agony　that　made　her　want　to　cry　out；　her　Warder　barely　groaned　through　her　gritted　teeth。
　　　　　　　〃Tai'shar　Kandor；〃　Lan　murmured；　tossing　the　pile…head　quarrel；　made　to　punch　through　armor；　aside　on　the　ground。　True　blood　of　Kandor。　Birgitte　blinked；　and　he　paused。　〃Forgive　me；　if　I　erred。　I　assumed　from　your　clothes　you　were　Kandori。〃
　　　　　　　〃Oh；　yes；〃　Birgitte　breathed。　〃Kandori。〃　Her　sickly　grin　might　have　been　from　her　injuries；　Nynaeve　was　impatiently　shooing　Lan　out　of　the　way　so　she　could　lay　hands　on　her。　Elayne　hoped　the　woman　knew　more　of　Kandor　than　the　name；　when　Birgitte　had　last　been　born；　there　had　been　no　Kandor。　She　should　have　taken　it　as　an　omen。
　　　　　　　For　the　five　miles　to　the　small　slate…roofed　manor　house；　Birgitte　rode　behind　Nynaeve　on　the　latter's　stout　brown　mare　…　named　Loversknot；　of　all　things　…　and　Elayne　and　Aviendha　rode　Lan's　tall　black　stallion。　At　least；　Elayne　sat　Mandarb's　saddle　with　Aviendha's　arms　around　her　waist　while　Lan　led　the　fiery…eyed　animal。　Trained　warhorses　were　as　much　weapons　as　a　sword；　and　dangerous　mounts　for　strange　riders。　Be　sure　of　yourself；　girl；　Lini　had　always　told　her；　but　not　too　sure；　and　she　did　try。　She　should　have　realized　events　were　no　more　in　her　control　than　Mandarb's　reins。
　　　　　　　At　the　three…story　stone　house；　Master　Hornwell；　stout　and　gray…haired；　and　Mistress　Hornwell；　slightly　less　round　and　slightly　less　gray　but　otherwise　resembling　her　husband　remarkably；　had　every　last　person　who　worked　the　estates；　and　Merilille's　maid；　Pol；　and　the　green…and…white　liveried　servants　who　had　e　from　the　Tarasin　Palace　as　well；　all　bustling　to　find　sleeping　acmodations　for　over　two　hundred　people；　most　women；　who　had　appeared　out　of　nowhere　with　dark　near　to　falling。　The　work　went　with　surprising　swiftness；　in　spite　of　the　estates'　people　stopping　to　gawk　at　an　Aes　Sedai's　ageless　face；　or　a　Warder's　shifting　cloak　making　parts　of　him　vanish；　or　one　of　the　Sea　Folk　with　all　of　her　bright　silks；　her　earrings　and　nosering　and　medallioned　chain。　Kinswomen　were　deciding　that　now　it　was　safe　to　be　frightened　and　cry　no　matter　what　Reanne　and　the　Knitting　Circle　said　to　them；　Windfinders　were　snarling　over　how　far　from　the　salt　they　had　e；　against　their　will　as　Renaile　din　Calon　loudly　claimed；　and　nobles　and　crafts　women　who　had　been　all　too　willing　to　flee　whatever　lay　back　in　Ebou　Dar；　willing　to　carry　their　bundled　possessions　on　their　backs；　were　now　balking　at　being　shown　a　hayloft　for　a　bed。
　　　　　　　All　that　was　going　on　when　Elayne　and　the　others　arrived　with　the　sun　red　on　the　western　horizon；　a　great　upheaval　and　milling　all　about　the　house　and　thatch…roofed　outbuildings；　but　Alise　Tenjile；　smiling　pleasantly　and　implacable　as　an　avalanche；　seemed　to　have　everything　more　in　hand　than　even　the　capable　Hornwells。　Kinswomen　who　wept　harder　for　all　of　Reanne's　attempts　at　fort　dried　their　tears　at　a　murmur　from　Alise　and　began　moving　with　the　purposeful　air　of　women　who　had　been　caring　for　themselves　in　a　hostile　world　for　many　years。　Haughty　nobles　with　marriage　knives　dangling　into　the　oval　cutouts　in　their　lace…trimmed　bodices　and　craftswomen　who　displayed　almost　as　much　arrogance　and　nearly　as　much　bosom；　if　not　in　silk；　flinched　at　the　sight　of　Alise　approaching；　and　went　scurrying　for　the　tall　barns　hugging　their　bundles　and　announcing　loudly　that　they　had　always　thought　it　might　be　amusing　to　sleep　on　straw。　Even　the　Windfinders；　many　of　them　important　and　powerful　women　among　the　Atha'an　Miere；　muffled　their　plaints　when　Alise　came　near。　For　that　matter；　Sareitha；　still　lacking　the　Aes　Sedai　agelessness；　eyed　Alise　askance　and　touched　her　brown…fringed　shawl　as　if　to　remind　herself　it　was　there。　Merilille　…　unflappable　Merilille　…　watched　the　woman　go　about　her　work　with　a　blend　of　approval　and　open　amazement。
　　　　　　　Clambering　down　from　her　saddle　at　the　front　door　of　the　house；　Nynaeve　glared　toward　Alise；　gave　her　dark　braid　one　deliberate；　measured　tug　that　the　other　woman　was　far　too　busy　to　notice；　and　stalked　inside；　stripping　off　her　blue　riding　gloves　and　muttering　to　herself。　Watching　her　go；　Lan　chuckled　softly；　then　stifled　his　laughter　immediately　when　Elayne　dismounted。　Light；　but　his　eyes　were　cold！　For　Nynaeve's　sake；　she　hoped　the　man　could　be　saved　from　his　fate；　yet　looking　into　those　eyes；　she　did　not　believe　it。
　　　　　　　〃Where　is　Ispan？〃　she　murmured；　helping　Aviendha　scramble　down。　So　many　of　the　women　knew　an　Aes　Sedai　…　a　Black　sister　…　was　being　held　prisoner　that　the　news　was　bound　to　spread　through　the　estates　like　fire　in　dry　grass；　but　better　if　the　manor's　folk　had　a　little　preparation。
　　　　　　　〃Adeleas　and　Vandene　took　her　to　a　small　woodcutter's　hut　about　half　a　mile　away；〃　he　replied　just　as　quietly。　〃In　all　this；　I　don't　think　anyone　noticed　a　woman　with　a　sack　over　her　head。　The　sisters　said　they　would　stay　there　with　her　tonight。〃
　　　　　　　Elayne　shivered。　The　Darkfriend　was　to　be　questioned　again　once　the　sun　went　down；　it　seemed。　They　were　in　Andor；　now；　and　that　made　her　feel　more　deeply　as　if　she　had　given　the　order　for　it。
　　　　　　　Soon　she　was　in　a　copper　bathtub；　luxuriating　in　perfumed　soap　and　clean　skin　again；　laughing　and　splashing　water　at　Birgitte；　who　lolled　in　another　tub　except　when　she　was　splashing　back；　both　of　them　giggling　over　the　wincing　horror　Aviendha　could　not　quite　conceal　at　sitting　up　to　her　breasts　in　water。　She　thought　it　was　a　very　good　joke　on　herself；　though；　and　told　a　most　improper　story　about　a　man　getting　segade　spines　in　his　bottom。　Birgitte　told　one　still　more　improper；　about　a　woman　getting　her　head　caught　between　the　slats　of　a　fence；　that　made　even　Aviendha　blush。　They　were　funny；　though。　Elayne　wished　she　knew　one　to　tell。
　　　　　　　She　and　Aviendha　bed　and　brushed　one　another's　hair　…　a　nightly　ritual　for　near…sisters　…　and　then　they　snuggled　tiredly　into　the　canopied　bed　in　a　small　room。　She　and　Aviendha；　Birgitte　and　Nynaeve；　and　lucky　there　were　no　more。　Larger　rooms　had　cots　and　pallets　covering　the　floors；　including　the　sitting　rooms；　the　kitchens；　and　most　of　the　halls。　Nynaeve　muttered　half　the　night　about　the　indecency　of　making　a　woman　sleep　apart　from　her　husband；　and　for　the　other　half；　her　elbows　seemed　to　wake　Elayne　every　time　she　dropped　off。　Birgitte　flatly　refused　to　change　places；　and　she　could　not　ask　Aviendha　to　endure　the　woman's　sharp　prodding；　so　she　did　not　get　a　great　deal　of　sleep。
　　　　　　　Elayne　was　still　groggy　when　they　prepared　to　depart　the　next　morning；　with　the　rising　sun　a　molten　ball　of　gold。　The　manor　had　few　animals　to　spare　unless　she　stripped　the　estates　bare；　so　while　she　rode　a　black　gelding　named　Fireheart；　and　Aviendha　and　Birgitte　had　new　mounts；　those　who　had　been　afoot　when　they　fled　the　Kin's　farm　remained　afoot。　That　included　most　of　the　Kinswomen　themselves；　the　servants　leading　the　pack　animals；　and　the　twenty…odd　women　who　plainly　were　beyond　regretting　their　visit　to　the　Kin's　farm　in　hopes　of　peace　and　contemplation。　The　Warders　rode　ahead　to　scout　the　way　across　rolling　hills　covered　in　drought…starved　forest；　and　the　rest　of　them　stretched　out　in　a　most　peculiar　snake；　with　Nynaeve　and　herself　and　the　other　sisters　at　the　head。　And　Aviendha；　of　course。
　　　　　　　It　was　hardly　a　group　that　could　escape　notice；　so　many　women　traveling　with　so　few　men　for　guards；　not　to　mention　twenty　dark　Windfinders；　awkward　on　their　horses　and　as　bright　as　exotically　plumaged　birds；　and　nine　Aes　Sedai；　six　of　them　recognizably　so　to　anyone　who　knew　what　to　look　for。　Though　one　did　ride　with　a　leather　sack　over　her　head；　of　course。　As　if　that　would　not　attract　eyes　by　itself。　Elayne　had　hoped　to　reach　Caemlyn　unnoticed；　but　that　no　longer　seemed　possible。　Still；　there　was　no　reason　that　anyone　would　suspect　that　the　Daughter…Heir；　Elayne　Trakand　herself；　was　one　of　this　group。　In　the　beginning；　she　thought　that　the　greatest　difficulty　they　might　face　would　be　someone　who　opposed　her　claims　learning　of　her　presence；　sending　armed　men　to　try　taking　her　into　custody　until　the　succession　was　settled。
　　　　　　　In　truth；　she　expected　the　first　trouble　to　e　from　the　footsore　craftswomen　and　nobles；　proud　women　all；　and　none　used　to　tramping　dusty　hills。　Especially　since　Merilille's　maid　had　her　own　plump　mare　to　ride。　The　few　farm　wives　among　them　did　not　seem　to　mind　too　much；　but　nearly　half　their　number　were　women　who　possessed　lands　and　manors　and　palaces；　and　most　of　the　rest　could　have　afforded　to　buy　an　estate　if　not　two　or　three。　They　included　two　goldsmiths；　three　weavers　who　owned　over　four　hundred　looms　between　them；　a　woman　whose　manufactories　produced　a　tenth　of　all　the　lacquerware　Ebou　Dar　produced；　and　a　banker。　They　walked；　their　possessions　strapped　to　their　backs；　while　their　horses　bore　packsaddles　laden　with　food。　There　was　real　need。　Every　last　coin　in　everyone's　purse　had　been　pooled　together　and　given　into　Nynaeve's　tightfisted　keeping；　but　all　might　not　be　sufficient　to　buy　food；　fodder　and　lodgings　for　so　large　a　party　all　the　way　to　Caemlyn。　They　did　not　seem　to　understand。　They　plained　loudly　and　incessantly　through　the　first　day's　march。　Loudest　of　all　was　a　slim　lady　with　a　thin　scar　on　on