rj.thepathofdaggers-第94部分

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ting　to　jump　when　Renaile　issued　a　mand；　or；　for　that　matter；　when　Dorile；　or　Caire；　or　Caire's　blood…sister　Tebreille　did。　Each　of　those　was　Windfinder　to　a　clan　Wavemistress；　and　none　of　the　others　made　her　hop　with　such　alacrity；　but　that　was　enough。　More　and　more　of　the　Kin　slid　from　horrified　gaping　to　thoughtful　observation。　Perhaps　Aes　Sedai　were　not　a　different　flesh　after　all。　If　Aes　Sedai　were　just　women　like　themselves；　why　should　they　subject　themselves　once　more　to　the　rigors　of　the　Tower；　to　Aes　Sedai　authority　and　Aes　Sedai　discipline？　Had　they　not　survived　very　well　on　their　own；　some　for　more　years　than　any　of　the　older　sisters　were　quite　ready　to　believe？　Elayne　could　practically　see　the　idea　forming　in　their　heads。
　　　　　　　When　she　mentioned　it　to　Nynaeve；　though；　Nynaeve　just　muttered；　〃About　time　some　of　the　sisters　learned　what　it's　like　trying　to　teach　a　woman　who　thinks　she　knows　more　than　her　teacher。　Those　who　have　a　chance　at　a　shawl　will　still　want　it；　and　for　the　rest；　I　don't　see　why　they　shouldn't　grow　some　backbone。〃　Elayne　refrained　from　mentioning　Nynaeve's　plaints　about　Sumeko；　who　had　certainly　grown　backbone；　Sumeko　had　criticized　several　of　Nynaeve's　Healing　weaves　as　〃clumsy；〃　and　Elayne　had　thought　Nynaeve　was　going　to　have　apoplexy　on　the　spot。　〃In　any　case；　there's　no　need　to　tell　Egwene　about　this。　If　she's　there。　Any　of　it。　She　has　enough　on　her　plate。〃　Without　doubt；　〃any　of　it〃　referred　to　Merilille　and　the　Windfinders。
　　　　　　　They　were　in　their　shifts；　seated　on　their　bed　on　the　second　floor　of　The　New　Plow；　with　the　twisted…ring　dream　ter'angreal　hanging　about　their　necks；　Elayne's　on　a　simple　leather　cord；　Nynaeve's　alongside　Lan's　heavy　signet　ring　on　a　narrow　golden　chain。　Aviendha　and　Birgitte；　still　fully　dressed；　sat　on　two　of　their　clothing　chests。　Standing　guard；　they　called　it；　until　she　and　Nynaeve　returned　from　the　World　of　Dreams。　Both　wore　their　cloaks　until　they　could　climb　under　the　blankets。　The　New　Plow　was　definitely　not　new；　cracks　spidered　across　the　plastered　walls；　and　unfortunate　drafts　crept　in　everywhere。
　　　　　　　The　room　itself　was　small；　and　the　chests　and　stacked　bundles　left　room　for　little　beyond　the　bed　and　washstand。　Elayne　knew　she　had　to　present　herself　properly　in　Caemlyn；　but　sometimes　she　felt　guilty；　with　her　belongings　on　pack　animals　when　most　others　had　to　make　do　with　what　they　could　carry　on　their　backs。　Nynaeve　certainly　never　showed　any　regrets　over　her　chests。　They　had　been　sixteen　days　on　the　road；　the　full　moon　outside　the　narrow　window　shone　on　a　white　blanket　of　snow　that　would　make　traveling　tomorrow　slow　even　if　the　sky　remained　clear；　and　Elayne　thought　another　week　to　Caemlyn　was　an　optimistic　estimate。
　　　　　　　〃I　have　enough　sense　not　to　remind　her；〃　she　told　Nynaeve。　〃I　don't　want　my　nose　snapped　off　again。〃
　　　　　　　That　was　a　mild　way　of　putting　it。　They　had　not　been　in　Tel'aran'rhiod　since　informing　Egwene；　the　night　after　leaving　the　estate；　that　the　Bowl　had　been　used。　Reluctantly；　they　also　had　told　her　of　the　bargain　they　had　been　forced　into　with　the　Sea　Folk；　and　found　themselves　facing　the　Amyrlin　Seat　with　the　striped　stole　on　her　shoulders。　Elayne　knew　it　was　necessary　and　right　…　a　Queen's　closest　friend　among　her　subjects　knew　she　was　the　Queen　as　well　as　a　friend；　had　to　know　…　but　she　had　not　enjoyed　her　friend　telling　them　in　a　heated　voice　that　they　had　behaved　like　witless　loobies　who　might　have　brought　ruin　down　on　all　their　heads。　Especially　when　she　herself　agreed。　She　had　not　liked　hearing　that　the　only　reason　Egwene　did　not　set　them　both　a　penance　that　would　curl　their　hair　was　that　she　could　not　afford　to　have　them　waste　the　time。　Necessary　and　right；　though；　when　she　sat　on　the　Lion　Throne；　she　would　still　be　Aes　Sedai；　and　subject　to　the　laws　and　rules　and　customs　of　Aes　Sedai。　Not　for　Andor　…　she　would　not　give　her　land　to　the　White　Tower　…　but　for　herself。　So；　unpleasant　as　it　had　been；　she　accepted　her　castigation　calmly。　Nynaeve　had　writhed　and　stammered　with　embarrassment；　protested　and　all　but　pouted；　then　apologized　so　profusely　that　Elayne　hardly　believed　it　was　the　same　woman　she　knew。　Quite　rightly；　Egwene　had　remained　the　Amyrlin；　cool　in　her　displeasure　even　while　giving　pardon　for　their　mistakes。　At　best；　tonight　could　not　be　pleasant　or　fortable　if　she　was　there。
　　　　　　　But　when　they　dreamed　themselves　into　the　Salidar　of　Tel'aran'rhiod；　into　the　room　in　the　Little　Tower　that　had　been　called　the　Amyrlin's　Study；　she　was　not　there；　and　the　only　sign　she　had　visited　since　their　meeting　was　some　barely　visible　words　roughly　scratched　on　a　beetle…riddled　wall　panel；　as　if　by　an　idle　hand　that　did　not　want　to　spend　the　effort　to　carve　deeply。
　　　　　　　STAY　IN　CAEMLYN
　　　　　　　And　a　few　feet　away：
　　　　　　　KEEP　SILENT　AND　BE　CAREFUL
　　　　　　　Those　had　been　Egwene's　final　instructions　to　them。　Go　to　Caemlyn；　and　stay　there　until　she　could　puzzle　out　how　to　keep　the　Hall　from　salting　all　of　them　down　and　nailing　them　into　a　barrel。　A　reminder　they　had　no　way　to　erase。
　　　　　　　Embracing　saidar；　Elayne　channeled　to　leave　her　own　message；　the　number　fifteen　seemingly　scratched　on　the　heavy　table　that　had　been　Egwene's　writing　desk。　Inverting　the　weave　and　tying　it　off　meant　that　only　someone　who　ran　her　fingers　across　the　numerals　would　realize　they　were　not　really　there。　Perhaps　it　would　not　take　fifteen　days　to　reach　Caemlyn；　but　more　than　a　week；　she　was　certain。
　　　　　　　Nynaeve　strode　to　the　window　and　peered　out　both　ways；　careful　not　to　put　her　head　out　through　the　open　casement。　It　was　night　out　there　as　in　the　waking　world；　a　full　moon　gleaming　on　bright　snow；　though　the　air　did　not　feel　cold。　No　one　else　should　be　there　except　them；　and　if　anyone　was；　it　was　someone　to　avoid。　〃I　hope　she　isn't　having　trouble　with　her　plans；〃　she　muttered。
　　　　　　　〃She　told　us　not　to　mention　those　even　to　each　other；　Nynaeve。　'A　secret　spoken　finds　wings。'　〃　That　had　been　another　of　Lini's　many　favorites。
　　　　　　　Nynaeve　grimaced　over　her　shoulder；　then　returned　to　peering　down　the　narrow　alley。　〃It's　different　for　you。　I　tended　her　as　a　child；　changed　her　swaddling；　smacked　her　bottom　a　time　or　two。　And　now　I　have　to　leap　when　she　snaps　her　fingers。　It's　hard。〃
　　　　　　　Elayne　could　not　help　herself。　She　snapped　her　fingers。
　　　　　　　Nynaeve　spun　so　fast　that　she　blurred；　her　face　pop…eyed　with　horror。　Her　dress　blurred；　too；　from　blue　riding　silks　to　an　Accepted's　banded　white　to　what　she　referred　to　as　good；　stout　Two　Rivers　wool；　dark　and　thick。　When　she　realized　Egwene　was　not　there；　had　not　been　listening；　she　almost　fainted　with　relief。
　　　　　　　When　they　stepped　back　to　their　bodies　and　woke　long　enough　to　tell　the　others　they　could　e　to　bed；　Aviendha　certainly　thought　it　a　good　joke；　and　Birgitte　laughed　as　well。　Nynaeve　had　her　revenge；　though。　The　next　morning；　she　woke　Elayne　with　an　icicle。　Elayne's　shrieks　woke　everybody　else　in　the　whole　village。
　　　　　　　Three　days　later；　the　first　explosion　came。
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　
Chapter　21　
（Dragon）　
Answering　the　Summons　
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　The　great　winter　tempests　called　the　cemaros　continued　to　roll　up　out　of　the　Sea　of　Storms；　harsher　than　any　in　memory。　Some　said　this　year　the　cemaros　was　trying　to　make　up　for　the　months　of　delay。　Lightning　crackled　across　the　skies；　enough　to　make　the　darkness　patchy　at　night。　Wind　lashed　the　land　and　rain　flailed　it；　turning　all　but　the　hardest　roads　to　rivers　of　mud。　Sometimes　the　mud　froze　after　nightfall；　but　sunrise　always　brought　a　thaw；　even　under　a　gray　sky；　and　the　ground　became　bogs　once　more。　Rand　was　surprised　at　how　much　all　that　hampered　his　plans。
　　　　　　　The　Asha'man　he　had　sent　for　came　quickly；　at　midmorning　the　next　day；　riding　out　of　a　gateway　into　a　driving　downpour　that　obscured　the　sun　so；　it　might　as　well　have　been　twilight。　Through　the　hole　in　the　air；　snow　fell　back　in　Andor；　fat　white　flakes　swirling　about　thickly　and　hiding　what　lay　behind　them。　Most　of　the　men　in　the　short　column　were　bundled　in　heavy　black　cloaks；　but　the　rain　seemed　to　slip　around　them　and　their　horses。　It　was　not　obvious；　yet　anyone　who　noticed　would　look　twice；　if　not　three　times。　Keeping　dry　required　only　a　simple　weave；　so　long　as　you　did　not　mind　flaunting　what　you　were。　But　then；　the　black…and…white　disc　worked　on　a　crimson　circle　on　the　breast　of　their　cloaks　did　that。　Even　half…hidden　by　the　rain；　there　was　a　pride　about　them；　an　arrogance　in　the　way　they　sat　their　saddles。　A　defiance。　They　gloried　in　what　they　were。
　　　　　　　Their　mander；　Charl　Gedwyn；　was　a　few　years　older　than　Rand；　of　middling　height　and　wearing　the　Sword　and　Dragon；　like　Torval；　on　a　very　well　cut；　high…collared　coat　of　the　best　black　silk。　His　sword　was　mounted　lushly　with　silver；　his　silver…worked　sword　belt　fastened　with　a　silver　buckle　shaped　in　a　clenched　fist。　Gedwyn　termed　himself　Tsorovan'm'hael；　in　the　Old　Tongue；　Storm　Leader；　whatever　that　was　supposed　to　mean。　It　seemed　appropriate　to　the　weather；　at　least。
　　　　　　　Even　so；　he　stood　just　inside　the　entrance　to　Rand's　ornate　green　tent　and　scowled　out　at　the　cascading　rain。　A　guard　of　mounted　panions　encircled　the　tent；　no　more　than　thirty　paces　away；　yet　they　were　barely　visible。　They　might　h