rj.theshadowrising-第144部分

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restle　him　for　the　pair。　He　hesitated　before　refusing；　which　showed　Mat　he　was　even　dumber　than　he　looked。　Needles　and　pins　were　snapped　up；　but　the　pots；　and　most　of　the　knives；　earned　sneers；　Aiel　smiths　did　better　work。　Everything　changed　hands；　from　vials　of　perfumes　and　bath　salts　to　kegs　of　brandy。　Wine　and　brandy　fetched　good　prices。　He　was　startled　to　hear　Heirn　ask　for　Two　Rivers　tabac。　The　peddlers　had　none。
　　　　　　　One　driver　kept　trying　to　interest　the　Aiel　in　a　heavy；　gold…worked　crossbow　with　no　success。　The　crossbow　caught　Mat's　eye；　all　those　inlaid　gold　lions　with　what　seemed　to　be　rubies　for　eyes。　Small；　but　still　rubies。　Of　course；　a　good　Two　Rivers　longbow　could　shoot　six　arrows　while　a　crossbowman　was　still　cranking　back　the　bowstring　for　his　second　shot。　A　longer　range　for　a　crossbow　that　size；　though；　by　a　hundred　paces。　With　two　men　doing　nothing　but　keeping　a　crossbow　with　bolt　in　place　in　the　hands　of　each　crossbowman；　and　stout　pikemen　to　hold　the　cavalry　off。。。
　　　　　　　Wincing；　Mat　let　his　head　fall　back　against　the　spokes。　It　had　happened　again。　He　had　to　get　out　of　the　Waste；　away　from　Moiraine；　away　from　any　Aes　Sedai。　Maybe　back　home　for　a　while。　Maybe　he　could　get　there　in　time　to　help　with　this　Whitecloak　trouble。　Small　chance　of　that；　unless　I　use　the　bloody　Ways；　or　another　bloody　Portal　Stone。　That　would　not　solve　his　problems　anyway。　For　one　thing；　there　were　no　answers　in　Emond's　Field　to　what　those　snaky　folk　had　meant　about　marrying　the　Daughter　of　the　Nine　Moons；　or　dying　and　living　again。　Or　Rhuidean。
　　　　　　　Through　his　coat　he　rubbed　the　silver　foxhead　medallion；　hung　around　his　neck　again。　The　pupil　of　the　fox's　eye　was　a　tiny　circle　split　by　a　sinuous　line；　one　side　polished　bright；　the　other　shaded　in　some　way。　The　ancient　symbol　of　Aes　Sedai；　before　the　Breaking。　The　black…hafted　spear；　sword…blade　point　marked　with　two　ravens；　he　took　from　where　it　was　leaning　beside　him　and　laid　it　across　his　knees。　More　Aes　Sedai　work。　Rhuidean　had　provided　no　answers；　only　more　questions；　and。。。
　　　　　　　Before　Rhuidean　his　memory　had　been　full　of　holes。　Casting　back　in　his　mind　then；　he　would　be　able　to　remember　walking　up　to　a　door　in　the　morning　and　leaving　in　the　evening；　but　nothing　between。　Now　there　was　something　in　between；　filling　all　those　holes。　Waking　dreams；　or　something　very　like。　It　was　as　if　he　could　remember　dances　and　battles　and　streets　and　cities；　none　of　which　he　had　ever　really　seen；　none　of　which　he　was　sure　had　ever　existed；　like　a　hundred　pieces　of　memory　from　a　hundred　different　men。　Better　to　think　of　them　as　dreams；　maybe　…　a　little　better　…　yet　he　was　as　sure　in　them　as　in　any　of　his　own　remembrances。　Battles　numbered　the　most；　and　sometimes　they　crept　up　on　him　in　a　way；　as　with　the　crossbow。　He　would　find　himself　looking　at　a　piece　of　ground　and　planning　how　to　set　an　ambush　there；　or　defend　against　one；　or　how　to　set　an　army　for　battle。　It　was　madness。
　　　　　　　Without　looking；　he　traced　the　flowing　script　carved　into　the　black　spear　shaft。　He　could　read　it　as　easily　as　any　book　now；　though　it　had　taken　him　the　whole　trip　back　to　Chaendaer　to　realize　it。　Rand　had　not　said　anything；　but　he　suspected　he　had　given　himself　away；　there　in　Rhuidean。　He　knew　the　Old　Tongue　now；　sifted　whole　out　of　those　dreams。　Light；　what　did　they　do　to　me？
　　　　　　　〃Sa　souvraya　niende　misain　ye；〃　he　said　aloud。　〃I　am　lost　in　my　own　mind。〃
　　　　　　　〃A　scholar；　for　this　day　and　Age。〃
　　　　　　　Mat　looked　up　to　find　the　gleeman　looking　at　him　with　dark；　deep…set　eyes。　The　fellow　was　taller　than　most；　somewhere　in　his　middle　years　and　likely　attractive　to　women；　but　with　an　oddly　apprehensive　way　of　holding　his　head　cocked　as　if　trying　to　look　at　you　sideways。
　　　　　　　〃Just　something　I　heard　once；〃　Mat　said。　He　had　to　be　more　careful。　If　Moiraine　decided　to　pack　him　off　to　the　White　Tower　for　study；　they　would　never　let　him　out　of　there　again。　〃You　hear　scraps　of　things　and　remember　them。　I　know　a　few　phrases。〃　That　should　cover　any　slips　he　was　stupid　enough　to　make。
　　　　　　　〃I　am　Jasin　Natael。　A　gleeman；〃　Natael　did　not　flourish　his　cloak　the　way　Thom　would；　he　could　have　been　saying　he　was　a　carpenter　or　a　wheelwright。　〃Do　you　mind　if　I　join　you？〃　Mat　nodded　to　the　ground　next　to　him；　and　the　gleeman　folded　his　legs；　tucking　his　cloak　under　to　sit　on。　He　seemed　fascinated　by　the　Jindo　and　Shaido　milling　around　the　wagons；　most　still　carrying　their　spears　and　bucklers。　〃Aiel；〃　he　murmured。　〃Not　what　I　would　have　expected。　I　can　still　hardly　credit　it。〃
　　　　　　　〃I've　been　with　them　for　weeks　now；〃　Mat　said；　〃and　I　don't　know　that　I　believe　them　myself。　Odd　people。　If　any　of　the　Maidens　ask　you　to　play　Maidens'　Kiss；　my　advice　is　to　refuse。　Politely。〃
　　　　　　　Natael　frowned　at　him　questioningly。　〃You　lead　an　intriguing　life；　it　seems。〃
　　　　　　　〃What　do　you　mean？〃　Mat　asked　cautiously。
　　　　　　　〃Surely　you　do　not　think　it　is　a　secret？　Not　many　men　travel　in　pany　with。。。　an　Aes　Sedai。　The　woman　Moiraine　Damodred。　And　then　there　is　Rand　al'Thor。　The　Dragon　Reborn。　He　Who　es　With　the　Dawn。　Who　can　say　how　many　prophecies　he　is　supposed　to　fulfill？　An　unusual　traveling　panion；　certainly。〃
　　　　　　　The　Aiel　had　talked；　of　course。　Anyone　would。　Still；　it　was　a　little　unsettling　to　have　a　stranger　calmly　talk　about　Rand　this　way。　〃He　suits　well　enough　for　now。　If　he　interests　you；　talk　to　him。　Myself；　I'd　just　as　soon　not　be　reminded。〃
　　　　　　　〃Perhaps　I　will。　Later；　perhaps。　Let　us　talk　of　you。　I　understand　you　went　into　Rhuidean；　where　none　save　Aiel　have　gone　in　three　thousand　years。　You　got　that　there？〃　He　reached　for　the　spear　on　Mat's　knees；　but　let　his　hand　fall　when　Mat　drew　it　away　slightly。　〃Very　well。　Tell　me　what　you　saw。〃
　　　　　　　〃Why？〃
　　　　　　　〃I　am　a　gleeman；　Matrim。〃　Natael　had　his　head　cocked　to　one　side　in　that　uneasy　manner；　but　his　voice　held　irritation　at　having　to　explain。　He　lifted　a　corner　of　his　cloak　with　its　colorful　patches　as　though　for　proof。　〃You　have　seen　what　none　have；　save　a　handful　of　Aiel。　What　stories　can　I　make　with　the　sights　your　eyes　have　seen？　I　will　even　make　you　the　hero；　if　you　wish。〃
　　　　　　　Mat　snorted。　〃I　don't　want　to　be　any　bloody　hero。〃
　　　　　　　Yet　there　was　no　reason　to　keep　silent。　Amys　and　that　lot　could　chatter　about　not　speaking　of　Rhuidean；　but　he　was　no　Aiel。　Besides；　it　might　pay　to　have　somebody　with　the　peddlers　who　had　a　little　goodwill　toward　him；　somebody　who　could　put　in　a　word　when　it　was　needed。
　　　　　　　He　told　the　story　from　reaching　the　wall　of　fog　to　ing　out；　leaving　out　selected　bits。　He　had　no　intention　of　telling　anyone　else　about　that　twisted…doorway　ter'angreal；　and　he　would　rather　forget　the　dust　gathering　into　creatures　that　tried　to　kill　him。　That　strange　city　of　huge　palaces　was　surely　enough；　and　Avendesora。
　　　　　　　The　Tree　of　Life　Natael　passed　over　quickly；　but　he　took　Mat　through　the　rest　again　and　again；　asking　more　and　more　detail；　from　exactly　what　it　felt　like　walking　through　that　fog　and　how　long　it　took　to　the　color　of　the　shadowless　light　inside；　to　descriptions　of　every　last　thing　Mat　could　remember　seeing　in　the　great　square　in　the　heart　of　the　city。　Those　Mat　gave　reluctantly；　a　slip；　and　he　would　find　himself　talking　about　ter'angreal；　and　who　knew　where　that　might　lead？　Even　so　he　drained　the　last　of　the　warm　ale；　and　still　talked　until　his　throat　was　dry。　It　sounded　rather　dull　the　way　he　told　it；　as　though　he　had　just　walked　in　and　waited　while　Rand　went　off；　then　walked　out　again；　but　Natael　seemed　intent　on　digging　out　every　last　scrap。　He　did　remind　Mat　of　Thom　then；　sometimes　Thom　concentrated　on　you　as　though　he　meant　to　wring　you　dry。
　　　　　　　〃Is　this　what　you　are　meant　to　be　doing？〃
　　　　　　　Mat　jumped　in　spite　of　himself　at　the　sound　of　Keille's　voice；　hard　under　its　mellifluous　tones。　The　woman　put　him　on　edge；　and　now　she　looked　ready　to　rip　his　heart　out；　and　the　gleeman's　as　well。
　　　　　　　Natael　scrambled　to　his　feet。　〃This　young　man　has　just　been　telling　me　the　most　fascinating　things　about　Rhuidean。　You　will　not　believe　it。〃
　　　　　　　〃We　are　not　here　for　Rhuidean。〃　The　words　came　out　as　sharp　as　her　hatchet　of　a　nose。　At　least　she　was　only　glaring　at　Natael　now。
　　　　　　　〃I　tell　you　…〃
　　　　　　　〃You　tell　me　nothing。〃
　　　　　　　〃Do　not　try　to　silence　me！〃
　　　　　　　Ignoring　Mat；　they　moved　off　down　the　wagons；　arguing　in　low　voices；　gesticulating　fiercely。　Keille　seemed　to　have　been　browbeaten　into　a　grim　silence　by　the　time　they　disappeared　into　her　wagon。
　　　　　　　Mat　shivered。　He　could　not　imagine　sharing　living　quarters　with　that　woman。　It　would　be　like　sharing　with　a　bear　with　a　sore　tooth。　Isendre；　now。。。　That　face；　those　lips；　that　swaying　walk。　If　he　could　get　her　away　from　Kadere；　maybe　she　would　find　a　young　hero　…　the　dust　creatures　could　be　ten　feet　tall；　for　her；　he　would　give　her　every　detail　he　could　remember　or　invent　…　a　handsome　young　hero　more　to　her　liking　than　a　stuffy　old　peddler。　It　was　worth　thinking　about。
　　　　　　　The　sun　slid　below　the　horizon；　and　small　fires　of　thorny　branches　made　pools　of　yellow　light　among　the　tents。　The　smells　of　cooking　filled　the　camp；　goat；　roasting　with　dried　peppers。　Cold　filled　the　camp；　too；　the　cold　of　night　in　the　Waste。　It　was　as　if　the　sun　had　taken　all