rj.theshadowrising-第60部分

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　　　　　　　〃The　Old　Tongue；〃　Moiraine　told　him。　〃They　use　the　Old　Tongue…　a　rather　harsh　dialect　of　it　…　for　their　dealings　with　men。　And　you；　Mat？　Was　your　interpreter　easily　understood？〃
　　　　　　　He　had　to　work　moisture　back　into　his　mouth。　〃The　Old　Tongue？　Is　that　what　it　was？　They　didn't　give　me　one。　In　fact；　I　never　got　to　ask　any　questions。　That　bell　started　shaking　the　walls　down；　and　they　hustled　me　out　like　I　was　tracking　cow　manure　on　the　rugs。〃　She　was　still　staring；　her　eyes　still　digging　into　his　head。　She　knew　about　the　Old　Tongue　slipping　out　of　him；　sometimes。　〃I。。。　almost　understood　a　word　here　and　there；　but　not　to　know　it。　You　and　Rand　got　answers。　What　do　they　get　out　of　it？　The　snakes　with　legs。　We　aren't　going　upstairs　to　find　ten　years　gone；　are　we；　like　Bili　in　the　story？〃
　　　　　　　〃Sensations；〃　Moiraine　replied　with　a　grimace。　〃Sensations；　emotions；　experiences。　They　rummage　through　them；　you　can　feel　them　doing　it；　making　your　skin　crawl。　Perhaps　they　feed　on　them　in　some　manner。　The　Aes　Sedai　who　studied　this　ter'angreal　when　it　was　in　Mayene　wrote　of　a　strong　desire　to　bathe　afterward。　I　certainly　intend　to。〃
　　　　　　　〃But　their　answers　are　true？〃　Rand　said　as　she　started　to　turn　away。　〃You　are　sure　of　it？　The　books　implied　as　much；　but　can　they　really　give　true　answers　about　the　future？〃
　　　　　　　〃The　answers　are　true；〃　Moiraine　said　slowly；　〃so　long　as　they　are　in　regard　to　your　own　future。　That　much　is　certain。〃　She　watched　Rand；　and　himself；　weighing　the　effect　of　her　words。　〃As　to　how；　though；　there　is　only　speculation。　That　world　is。。。　folded。。。in　strange　ways。　I　cannot　be　clearer。　It　may　be　that　that　allows　them　to　read　the　thread　of　a　human　life；　read　the　various　ways　it　may　yet　be　woven　into　the　Pattern。　Or　perhaps　it　is　a　talent　of　the　people。　The　answers　are　often　obscure；　however。　If　you　need　help　working　out　what　yours　mean；　I　offer　my　services。〃　Her　eyes　flickered　from　one　of　them　to　the　other；　and　Mat　nearly　swore。　She　did　not　believe　him　about　no　answers。　Unless　it　was　simply　general　Aes　Sedai　suspicion。
　　　　　　　Rand　gave　her　a　slow　smile。　〃And　will　you　tell　me　what　you　asked；　and　what　they　answered？〃
　　　　　　　For　answer；　she　returned　a　level；　searching　look；　then　started　for　the　door。　A　small　ball　of　light；　as　bright　as　a　lantern；　was　suddenly　floating　ahead　of　her；　illuminating　her　way。
　　　　　　　Mat　knew　he　should　leave　it　alone；　now。　Just　let　her　go　and　hope　she　forgot　he　had　ever　been　down　here。　But　a　knot　of　anger　still　burned　inside　him。　All　those　ridiculous　things　they　had　said。　Well；　maybe　they　were　true；　if　Moiraine　said　so；　but　he　wanted　to　grab　those　fellows　by　the　collar；　or　whatever　passed　for　a　collar　in　those　wrappings；　and　make　them　explain　a　few　things。
　　　　　　　〃Why　can't　you　go　there　twice；　Moiraine？〃　he　called　after　her。　〃Why　not？〃　He　very　nearly　asked　why　they　worried　about　iron　and　musical　instruments；　too；　and　bit　his　tongue。　He　could　not　know　about　those　if　he　had　not　understood　what　they　were　saying。
　　　　　　　She　paused　at　the　door　to　the　hall；　and　it　was　impossible　to　see　if　she　was　looking　at　the　ter'angreal　or　at　Rand。　〃If　I　knew　everything；　Matrim；　I　would　not　need　to　ask　questions。〃　She　peered　into　the　room　a　moment　longer　…　she　was　staring　at　Rand　…　then　glided　away　without　another　word。
　　　　　　　For　a　time　Mat　and　Rand　looked　at　each　other　in　silence。
　　　　　　　〃Did　you　find　out　what　you　wanted？〃　Rand　asked　finally。
　　　　　　　〃Did　you？〃
　　　　　　　A　bright　flame　leaped　into　existence；　balanced　above　Rand's　palm。　Not　the　smooth　glowing　sphere　of　the　Aes　Sedai；　but　a　rough　blaze　like　a　torch。　As　Rand　moved　to　leave；　Mat　added　another　question。　〃Are　you　really　going　to　just　let　the　Whitecloaks　do　whatever　they　want　back　home？　You　know　they're　heading　for　Emond's　Field。　If　they　are　not　there　already。　Yellow　eyes；　the　bloody　Dragon　Reborn。　It's　too　much；　otherwise。〃
　　　　　　　〃Perrin　will　do。。。　what　he　has　to　do　to　save　Emond's　Field；〃　Rand　replied　in　a　pained　voice。　〃And　I　must　do　what　I　have　to；　or　more　than　Emond's　Field　will　fall；　and　to　worse　than　Whitecloaks。〃
　　　　　　　Mat　stood　watching　the　light　of　that　flame　fade　away　down　the　hall；　until　he　remembered　where　he　was。　Then　he　snatched　up　his　lamp　and　hurried　out。　Rhuidean！　Light；　what　am　I　going　to　do？


Chapter　16
（Leafy　Tree）
Leavetakings
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　Lying　on　sweat…soaked　sheets；　staring　at　the　ceiling；　Perrin　realized　that　the　darkness　was　turning　to　gray。　Soon　the　sun　would　be　edging　above　the　horizon。　Morning。　A　time　for　new　hopes；　a　time　to　be　up　and　doing。　New　hopes。　He　almost　laughed。　How　long　had　he　been　awake？　An　hour　or　more；　surely；　this　time。　Scratching　his　curly　beard；　he　winced。　His　bruised　shoulder　had　stiffened；　and　he　sat　up　slowly；　sweat　popped　out　on　his　face　as　he　worked　the　arm。　He　kept　at　it　methodically；　though；　suppressing　groans　and　now　and　again　biting　back　a　curse；　until　he　could　move　the　arm　freely；　if　not　fortably。
　　　　　　　Such　sleep　as　he　had　managed　had　been　broken　and　fitful。　When　he　was　awake　he　had　seen　Faile's　face；　her　dark　eyes　accusing　him；　the　hurt　he　had　put　there　making　him　cringe　inside。　When　he　slept；　he　dreamed　of　mounting　a　gallows；　and　Faile　watching；　or　worse；　trying　to　stop　it；　trying　to　fight　Whitecloaks　with　their　lances　and　swords；　and　he　was　screaming　while　they　fitted　the　noose　around　his　neck；　screaming　because　the　Whitecloaks　were　killing　Faile。　Sometimes　she　watched　them　hang　him　with　a　smile　of　angry　satisfaction。　Small　wonder　such　dreams　wakened　him　with　a　jerk。　Once　he　had　dreamed　of　wolves　running　out　of　the　forest　to　save　both　Faile　and　him　…　only　to　be　spitted　on　Whitecloak　lances；　shot　down　by　their　arrows。　It　had　not　been　a　restful　night。　Washing　and　dressing　as　hurriedly　as　he　could；　he　left　the　room　as　if　hoping　to　leave　memories　of　his　dreams　behind。
　　　　　　　Little　outward　evidence　remained　of　the　night's　attack；　here　a　sword…slashed　tapestry；　there　a　chest　with　a　corner　splintered　by　an　axe　or　a　lighter　patch　on　the　stone…tiled　floor　where　a　bloodstained　rug　had　been　removed。　The　majhere　had　her　liveried　army　of　servants　out　in　force；　though　many　wore　bandages；　sweeping；　mopping；　clearing　away　and　replacing。　She　limped　about　leaning　on　a　stick；　a　broad　woman　with　her　gray　hair　pushed　up　like　a　round　cap　by　the　dressing　wound　around　her　head；　calling　her　orders　in　a　firm　voice；　with　the　clear　intention　of　removing　every　sign　of　the　Stone's　second　violation。　She　saw　Perrin　and　gave　him　an　infinitesimal　curtsy。　Even　the　High　Lords　did　not　get　much　more　from　her；　even　when　she　was　well。　Despite　all　the　cleaning　and　scrubbing；　under　the　smell　of　waxes　and　polishes　and　cleaning　fluids　Perrin　could　still　catch　the　faint　scent　of　blood；　sharply　metallic　human　blood；　fetid　Trolloc　blood；　acrid　Myrddraal　blood　with　its　stink　that　burned　his　nostrils。　He　would　be　glad　to　be　away　from　here。
　　　　　　　The　door　to　Loial's　room　was　a　span　across　and　more　than　two　spans　high；　with　an　overlarge　door　handle　in　the　shape　of　entwined　vines　level　with　Perrin's　head。　The　Stone　had　a　number　of　rarely　used　Ogier　guest　rooms；　the　Stone　of　Tear　predated　even　the　age　of　great　Ogier　stoneworks；　but　it　was　a　point　of　prestige　to　use　Ogier　stonemasons；　at　least　from　time　to　time。　Perrin　knocked　and　at　the　call　of　〃e　in；〃　in　a　voice　like　a　slow　avalanche；　lifted　the　handle　and　plied。
　　　　　　　The　room　was　on　a　scale　with　the　door　in　every　dimension；　yet　Loial；　standing　in　the　middle　of　the　leaf…patterned　carpet　in　his　shirtsleeves；　a　long　pipe　in　his　teeth；　reduced　it　all　to　seemingly　normal　size。　The　Ogier　stood　taller　than　a　Trolloc　in　his　wide…toed；　thigh…high　boots；　if　not　so　broad　as　one。　His　dark　green　coat；　buttoned　to　the　waist；　then　flaring　to　his　boot　tops　like　a　kilt　over　baggy　trousers；　no　longer　looked　odd　to　Perrin；　but　one　look　was　enough　to　tell　this　was　not　an　ordinary　man　in　an　ordinary　room。　The　Ogier's　nose　was　so　broad　as　to　seem　a　snout；　and　eyebrows　like　long　mustaches　dangled　beside　eyes　the　size　of　teacups。　Tufted　ears　poked　up　through　shaggy　black　hair　that　hung　nearly　to　his　shoulders。　When　he　grinned　around　his　pipestem　at　the　sight　of　Perrin；　it　split　his　face　in　half。
　　　　　　　〃Good　morning；　Perrin；〃　he　rumbled；　removing　the　pipe。　〃You　slept　well？　Not　easy；　after　such　a　night　as　that。　Myself；　I　have　been　up　half　the　night；　writing　down　what　happened。〃　He　had　a　pen　in　his　other　hand；　and　ink　stains　on　his　sausage…thick　fingers。
　　　　　　　Books　lay　everywhere；　on　Ogier…sized　chairs　and　the　huge　bed　and　the　table　that　stood　as　high　as　Perrin's　chest。　That　was　no　surprise；　but　what　was　a　little　startling　was　the　flowers。　Flowers　of　every　sort；　in　every　color。　Vases　of　flowers；　baskets　of　them；　posies　tied　with　ribbon　or　even　string；　great　woven　banks　of　flowers　standing　about　like　lengths　of　garden　wall。　Perrin　had　certainly　never　seen　the　like　inside　a　room。　Their　scent　filled　the　air。　Yet　what　really　caught　his　eye　was　the　swollen　knot　on　Loial's　head；　the　size　of　a　man's　fist；　and　the　heavy　limp　in　Loial's　walk。　If　Loial　had　been　hurt　too　badly　to　travel。。。　He　felt　ashamed　at　thinking　of　it　that　way　…　the　Ogier　was　a　friend　…　but　he　had　to。
　　　　　　　〃You　were　injured；　Loial？　Moiraine　could　Heal　you。　I'm　sure　she　will。〃
　　　　　　　〃Oh；　I　can　get　around　with　no　trouble。