rj.theshadowrising-第13部分
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t harm anyone。
Teeth clamped on a long…stemmed pipe； Mat opened his coat a bit more and tried to concentrate on the cards lying facedown in front of him； and on the coins spilled in the middle of the table。 He had had the bright red coat made to an Andoran pattern； of the best wool； with golden embroidery scrolling around the cuffs and long collar； but day by day he was reminded how much farther south Tear lay than Andor。 Sweat ran down his face； and plastered the shift to his back。
None of his panions around the table appeared to notice the heat at all； despite coats that looked even heavier than his； with fat； swollen sleeves； all padded silks and brocades and satin stripes。 Two men in red…and…gold livery kept the gamblers' silver cups full of wine and proffered shining silver trays of olives and cheeses and nuts。 The heat did not seem to affect the servants； either； though now and again one of them yawned behind his hand when he thought no one was looking。 The night was not young。
Mat refrained from lifting his cards to check them again。 They would not have changed。 Three rulers； the highest cards in three of the five suits； were already good enough to win most hands。
He would have been more fortable dicing； there was seldom a deck of cards to be found in the places he usually gambled； where silver changed hands in fifty different dice games； but these young Tairen lordlings would rather wear rags than play at dice。 Peasants tossed dice； though they were careful not to say so in his hearing。 It was not his temper they feared； but who they thought his friends were。 This game called chop was what they played； hour after hour； night after night； using cards hand…painted and lacquered by a man in the city who had been made well…to…do by these fellows and others like them。 Only women or horses could draw them away； but neither for long。
Still； he had picked up the game quickly enough； and if his luck was not as good as it was with dice； it would do。 A fat purse lay beside his cards； and another even fatter rested in his pocket。 A fortune； he would have thought once； back in Emond's Field； enough to live the rest of his life in luxury。 His ideas of luxury had changed since leaving the Two Rivers。 The young lords kept their coin in careless； shining piles； but some old habits he had no intention of changing。 In the taverns and inns it was sometimes necessary to depart quickly。 Especially if his luck was really with him。
When he had enough to keep himself as he wanted； he would leave the Stone just as quickly。 Before Moiraine knew what he was thinking。 He would have been days gone by now； if he had had his way。 It was just that there was gold to be had here。 One night at this table could earn him more than a week of dicing in taverns。 If only his luck would catch。
He put on a small frown and puffed worriedly at his pipe； to look unsure whether his cards were good enough to go on with。 Two of the young lords had pipes in their teeth； too； but silver…worked； with amber bits。 In the hot； still air； their perfumed tabac smelled like a fire in a lady's dressing chamber。 Not that Mat had ever been in a lady's dressing chamber。 An illness that nearly killed him had left his memory as full of holes as the best lace； yet he was sure he would have remembered that。 Not even the Dark One would be mean enough to make me forget that。
〃Sea Folk ship docked today；〃 Reimon muttered around his pipe。 The broad…shouldered young lord's beard was oiled and trimmed to a neat point。 That was the latest fashion among the younger lords； and Reimon chased the latest fashion as assiduously as he chased women。 Which was only a little less diligently than he gambled。 He tossed a silver crown onto the pile in the middle of the table for another card。 〃A raker。 Fastest ships there are； rakers； so they say。 Outrun the wind； they say。 I would like to see that。 Burn my soul； but I would。〃 He did not bother to look at the card he was dealt； he never did until he had a full five。
The plump； pink…cheeked man between Reimon and Mat gave an amused chuckle。 〃You want to see the ship； Reimon？ You mean the girls； do you not？ The women。 Exotic Sea Folk beauties； with their rings and baubles and swaying walks； eh？〃 He put in a crown and took his card； grimacing when he peeked at it。 That meant nothing； going by his face； Edorion's cards were always low and mismatched。 He won more than he lost； though。 〃Well； perhaps my luck will be better with the Sea Folk girls。〃
The dealer； tall and slender on Mat's other side； with a pointed beard even more darkly luxuriant than Reimon's； laid a finger alongside his nose。 〃You think to be lucky with those； Edorion？ The way they keep to themselves； you'll be lucky to catch a whiff of their perfume。〃 He made a wafting gesture； inhaling deeply with a sigh； and the other lordlings laughed； even Edorion。
A plain…faced youth named Estean laughed loudest of all； scrubbing a hand through lank hair that kept falling over his forehead。 Replace his fine yellow coat with drab wool； and he could have passed for a farmer； instead of the son of a High Lord with the richest estates in Tear and in his own right the wealthiest man at the table。 He had also drunk much more wine than any of the others。
Swaying across the man next to him； a foppish fellow named Baran who always seemed to be looking down his sharp nose； Estean poked the dealer with a none too steady finger。 Baran leaned back； twisting his mouth around his pipestem as if he feared Estean might throw up。
〃That's good； Carlomin；〃 Estean gurgled。 〃You think so too； don't you； Baran？ Edorion won't get a sniff。 If he wants to try his luck。。。 take a gamble。。。 he ought to go after the Aiel wenches； like Mat； here。 All those spears and knives。 Burn my soul。 Like asking a lion to dance。〃 Dead silence dropped around the table。 Estean laughed on alone； then blinked and scrubbed fingers through his hair again。 〃What's the matter？ Did I say something？ Oh！ Oh； yes。 Them。〃
Mat barely stopped a scowl。 The fool had to bring up the Aiel。 The only worse subject would have been Aes Sedai； they would almost rather have Aiel walking the corridors； staring down any Tairen who got in their way； than even one Aes Sedai； and these men thought they had four； at least。 He fingered an Andoran silver crown from his purse on the table and pushed it into the pot。 Carlomin dealt out the card slowly。
Mat lifted it carefully with a thumbnail； and did not let himself so much as blink。 The Ruler of Cups； a High Lord of Tear。 The rulers in a deck varied according to the land where the cards were made； with the nation's own ruler always as Ruler of Cups； the highest suit。 These cards were old。 He had already seen new decks with Rand's face or something like it on the Ruler of Cups； plete with the Dragon banner。 Rand the ruler of Tear； that still seemed ludicrous enough to make him want to pinch himself。 Rand was a shepherd； a good fellow to have fun with when he was not going all over…serious and responsible。 Rand the Dragon Reborn； now； that told him he was a stone fool to be sitting there； where Moiraine could put her hand on him whenever she wanted； waiting to see what Rand would do next。 Maybe Thom Merrilin would go with him。 Or Perrin。 Only； Thom seemed to be settling into the Stone as if he never meant to leave； and Perrin was not going anywhere unless Faile crooked a finger。 Well； Mat was ready to travel alone； if need be。
Yet there was silver in the middle of the table and gold in front of the lordlings； and if he was dealt the fifth ruler； there was no hand in chop could beat him。 Not that he really needed it。 Suddenly he could feel luck tickling his mind。 Not tingling as it did with the dice； of course； but he was already certain no one was going to beat four rulers。 The Tairens had been betting wildly all night； the price often farms crossing the table on the quickest hands。
But Carlomin was staring at the deck of cards in his hand instead of buying his fourth； and Baran was puffing his pipe furiously and stacking the coins in front of him as if ready to stuff them into his pockets。 Reimon wore a scowl behind his beard； and Edorion was frowning at his nails。 Only Estean appeared unaffected； he grinned uncertainly around the table； perhaps already forgetting what he had said。 They usually managed to put some sort of good face on the situation if the Aiel came up； but the hour was late； and the wine had flowed freely。
Mat scoured his mind for a way to keep them and their gold from walking away from his cards。 One glance at their faces was enough to tell him that simply changing the subject would not be enough。 But there was another way。 If he made them laugh at the Aiel。。。。 Is it worth making them laugh at me； too？ Chewing his pipestem； he tried to think of something else。
Baran picked up a stack of gold in each hand and moved to stick them in his pockets。
〃I might just try these Sea Folk women；〃 Mat said quickly； taking his pipe to gesture with。 〃Odd things happen when you chase Aiel girls。 Very odd。 Like the game they call Maidens' Kiss。〃 He had their attention； but Baran ha
