rj.thepathofdaggers-第95部分
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nions encircled the tent； no more than thirty paces away； yet they were barely visible。 They might have been statues； ignoring the torrent。
〃How do you expect me to find anyone in this？〃 Gedwyn muttered； glancing back over his shoulder at Rand。 A tick late； he added； 〃My Lord Dragon。〃 His eyes were hard and challenging； but they always were； whether looking at a man or a fence…post。 〃Rochaid and I brought eight Dedicated and forty Soldiers； enough to destroy an army or cow ten kings。 We might even make an Aes Sedai blink；〃 he said wryly。 〃Burn me； the pair of us could do a fair job alone。 Or you could。 Why do you need anyone else？〃
〃I expect you to obey； Gedwyn；〃 Rand said coldly。 Storm Leader？ And Manel Rochaid； Gedwyn's second； called himself Baijan'm'hael； Attack Leader。 What was Taim up to； creating new ranks？ The important thing was that the man made weapons。 The important thing was that the weapons stayed sane long enough to be used。 〃And I don't expect you to waste time questioning my orders。〃
〃As you mand； my Lord Dragon；〃 Gedwyn muttered。 〃I'll send men out immediately。〃 With a curt salute； fist to chest； he strode out into the storm。 The deluge bent away from him； sheeting down the small shield he wove around himself。 Rand wondered whether the man suspected how close he had e to dying when he seized saidin without warning。
You must kill him before he kills you； Lews Therin giggled。 They will； you know。 Dead men can't betray anyone。 The voice in Rand's head turned wondering。 But sometimes they don't die。 Am I dead？ Are you？
Rand pushed the words down to a fly's buzzing； just on the edge of notice。 Since his reappearance inside Rand's head； Lews Therin seldom went silent unless forced。 The man seemed madder than ever most of the time； and usually angrier as well。 Stronger sometimes； too。 That voice invaded Rand's dreams； and when he saw himself in a dream； it was not always himself at all that he saw。 It was not always Lews Therin； either； the face he had e to recognize as Lews Therin's。 Sometimes it was blurred； yet vaguely familiar； and Lews Therin seemed startled by it； too。 That was an indication how far the man's madness went。 Or maybe his own。
Not yet； Rand thought。 I can't afford to go mad yet。
When； then？ Lews Therin whispered before Rand could mute him again。
With the arrival of Gedwyn and the Asha'man； his plan to sweep the Seanchan westward got under way。 Got under way； and crept forward as slowly as a man laboring along one of those mired roads。 He shifted his own camp at once； making no effort to hide his movements。 There was little point to straining for secrecy。 Word traveled slowly by pigeon； and far slower by courier； once the cemaros came； yet he had no doubts he was watched； by the White Tower； by the Forsaken； by anyone who saw gain or loss in where the Dragon Reborn went and could afford to slip coin to a soldier。 Maybe even by the Seanchan。 If he could scout them； why not they him？ But not even the Asha'man knew why he was moving。
While Rand was idly watching men fold his tent onto a high…wheeled cart； Weiramon appeared on one of his many horses； a prancing white gelding of the finest Tairen bloodstock。 The rain had cleared； though gray clouds still veiled the noonday sun and the air felt as if you could squeeze water out of it with your hands。 The Dragon Banner and the Banner of Light hung limp and sodden on their tall staffs。
Tairen Defenders had replaced the panions； and as Weiramon rode through their mounted ring； he frowned at Rodrivar Tihera； a lean fellow； dark even for a Tairen； with a short beard trimmed to a very sharp point。 A very minor noble who had had to rise through his abilities； Tihera was punctilious in the extreme。 The fat white plumes bobbing on his rimmed helmet added embellishment to the elaborate bow he gave Weiramon。 The High Lord's frown deepened。
There was no need for the Captain of the Stone to be personally in charge of Rand's bodyguard； but he frequently was； just as Marcolin often manded the panions himself。 An often bitter rivalry had grown up between Defenders and panions； centering on who should guard Rand。 The Tairens claimed the right because he had ruled longer in Tear； the Illianers because he was； after all； King of Illian。 Perhaps Weiramon had heard some of the mutters among the Defenders that it was time Tear had a king of its own； and who better than the man who had taken the Stone？ Weiramon more than agreed with the need； but not with the choice of who should wear the crown。 He was not the only one。
The man smoothed his features as soon as he saw Rand looking； and swung down from his gold…tooled saddle to offer a bow that made Tihera's seem simple。 Iron…spined as he was； he could puff up and strut in his sleep。 Though he did grimace slightly at putting his polished boot into the mud。 He wore a rain cape； to keep the mist off his fine clothes； but even that was encrusted with gold embroidery and had a collar of sapphires。 For all of Rand's coat of deep green silk； with golden bees climbing the sleeves and lapels； anyone might have been forgiven for thinking the Crown of Swords belonged on the other's head； not his。
〃My Lord Dragon；〃 Weiramon intoned。 〃I cannot express how happy I am to see you guarded by Tairens； my Lord Dragon。 Surely the world would weep if anything untoward happened。〃 He was too intelligent to e out and call the panions untrustworthy。 By a hair； he was。
〃Sooner or later it would；〃 Rand said dryly。 After a good part of it finished celebrating。 〃I know how hard you'd cry； Weiramon。〃
The fellow actually preened； stroking the point of his gray…streaked beard。 He heard what he wanted to hear。 〃Yes； my Lord Dragon； you can be assured of my constancy。 Which is why I'm concerned by the orders your man brought me this morning。〃 That was Adley； many of the nobles thought pretending the Asha'man were merely Rand's servants would somehow make them less dangerous。 〃Wise of you to send away most of the Cairhienin。 And the Illianers； of course； that goes without saying。 I can even understand why you limit Gueyam and the others。〃 Weiramon's boots squelched in the mud as he stepped nearer； and his voice took on a confiding tone。 〃I do believe some of them … I wouldn't say plotted against you； but I think perhaps their loyalty has not always been without question。 As mine is。 Without question。〃 His voice shifted again； to strong and confident； a man concerned only with the needs of the one he served。 The one who surely would make him the first King of Tear。 〃Allow me to bring all of my armsmen； my Lord Dragon。 With them； and the Defenders； I can assure the honor of the Lord of the Morning； and his safety。〃
In all of the individual camps across the heath； wagons and carts were being loaded； horses saddled。 Most tents were already down。 The High Lady Rosana was riding north； her banner heading a column large enough to raise havoc among the bandits and at least give the Shaido pause。 But not enough to plant notions in her head； especially not when half were Gueyam's and Maraconn's retainers mixed with Defenders of the Stone。 Much the same applied to Spiron Narettin； riding eastward over the tall ridge with as many panions and men sworn to others of the Council of Nine as his own liegemen； not to mention a hundred more tailing behind on foot； some of the fellows who had surrendered in the woods beyond that ridge the day before。 A surprising number had chosen to follow the Dragon Reborn； but Rand did not trust them enough to leave them together。 Tolmeran was just starting south with the same kind of blend； and others would be marching off as soon as they had their carts and wagons loaded。 Each in a different direction； and none able to trust the men at their backs far enough for them to do more than follow the orders Rand had given。 Bringing peace to Illian was an important task； yet every last lord and lady regretted being sent away from the Dragon Reborn； plainly wondering whether it meant they had slipped in his trust。 Though a few might have considered why he chose to keep those he did under his eye。 Rosana had certainly looked thoughtful。
〃Your concern touches me；〃 Rand told Weiramon； 〃but how many bodyguards does one man need？ I'm not off to start a war。〃 A fine point； perhaps； yet this war was well under way。 It had begun at Falme； if not before。 〃Get your people ready。〃
How many have died for my pride？ Lews Therin moaned。 How many have died for my mistakes？
〃May I at least ask where we are going？〃 Weiramon's question； not quite exasperated； came right atop the voice in Rand's head。
〃The City；〃 Rand snapped。 He did not know how many had died for his mistakes； but none for his pride。 He was sure of that。
Weiramon opened his mouth； plainly confused as to whether he meant Tear or Illian； or maybe even Cairhien； but Rand gestured him away with the Dragon Scepter； a sharp stabbing motion that made the green…and…white tassel swing。 He half wished he could stab Lews Therin with it。 〃I don't intend to sit here all day； Weiramon！ Go to your men！〃
Less than an hour later he took hold of the True Sourc
