rj.eyeoftheworld-第106部分

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　　　　　　　The　riders　passed　at　a　slow　trot；　going　somewhere　with　a　purpose　but　not　too　great　a　haste。　Dust　sifted　through　the　hedge。
　　　　　　　Rand　waited　until　the　clop　of　the　hooves　faded　before　he　stuck　his　head　cautiously　back　through　the　hole。　The　dust…tail　was　well　down　the　road；　going　the　way　they　had　e。　Eastward　the　sky　was　clear。　He　climbed　out　onto　the　roadway；　watching　the　column　of　dust　move　west。
　　　　　　　〃Not　after　us；〃　he　said；　halfway　between　a　statement　and　a　question。
　　　　　　　Mat　scrambled　out　after　him；　looking　warily　in　both　directions。　〃Maybe；〃　he　said。　〃Maybe。〃
　　　　　　　Rand　had　no　idea　which　way　he　meant　it；　but　he　nodded。　Maybe。　It　had　not　begun　like　this；　their　journey　down　the　Caemlyn　Road。
　　　　　　　For　a　long　time　after　leaving　Whitebridge；　Rand　would　suddenly　find　himself　staring　back　down　the　road　behind　them。　Sometimes　he　would　see　someone　who　made　his　breath　catch；　a　tall；　skinny　man　hurrying　up　the　road；　or　a　lanky；　white…haired　fellow　up　beside　the　driver　on　a　wagon；　but　it　was　always　a　pack…peddler；　or　farmers　making　their　way　to　market；　never　Thom　Merrilin。　Hope　faded　as　the　days　passed。
　　　　　　　There　was　considerable　traffic　on　the　road；　wagons　and　carts；　people　on　horses　and　people　afoot。　They　came　singly　and　in　groups；　a　train　of　merchants'　wagons　or　a　dozen　horsemen　together。　They　did　not　jam　the　road；　and　often　there　was　nothing　in　sight　except　the　all　but　leafless　trees　lining　the　hard…packed　roadbed；　but　there　were　certainly　more　people　traveling　than　Rand　had　ever　seen　in　the　Two　Rivers。
　　　　　　　Most　traveled　in　the　same　direction　that　they　did；　eastward　toward　Caemlyn。　Sometimes　they　got　a　ride　in　a　farmer's　wagon　for　a　little　distance；　a　mile；　or　five；　but　more　often　they　walked。　Men　on　horseback　they　avoided；　when　they　spotted　even　one　rider　in　the　distance　they　scrambled　off　the　road　and　hid　until　he　was　past。　None　ever　wore　a　black　cloak；　and　Rand　did　not　really　think　a　Fade　would　let　them　see　him　ing；　but　there　was　no　point　in　taking　chances。　In　the　beginning　it　was　just　the　Halfmen　they　feared。
　　　　　　　The　first　village　after　Whitebridge　looked　so　much　like　Emond's　Field　that　Rand's　steps　dragged　when　he　saw　it。　Thatched　roofs　with　high　peaks；　and　goodwives　in　their　aprons　gossiping　over　the　fences　between　their　houses；　and　children　playing　on　a　village　green。　The　women's　hair　hung　unbraided　around　their　shoulders；　and　other　small　things　were　different；　too；　but　the　whole　together　was　like　home。　Cows　cropped　on　the　green；　and　geese　waddled　self…importantly　across　the　road。　The　children　tumbled；　laughing；　in　the　dust　where　the　grass　was　gone　altogether。　They　did　not　even　look　around　when　Rand　and　Mat　went　by。　That　was　another　thing　that　was　different。　Strangers　were　no　oddity　there；　two　more　did　not　draw　so　much　as　a　second　glance。　Village　dogs　only　raised　their　heads　to　sniff　as　he　and　Mat　passed；　none　stirred　themselves。
　　　　　　　It　was　ing　on　evening　as　they　went　through　the　village；　and　he　felt　a　pang　of　homesickness　as　lights　appeared　in　the　windows。　No　matter　what　it　looks　like；　a　small　voice　whispered　in　his　mind；　it　isn't　really　home。　Even　if　you　go　into　one　of　those　houses　Tam　won't　be　there。　If　he　was；　could　you　look　him　in　the　face？　You　know；　now；　don't　you？　Except　for　little　things　like　where　you　e　from　and　who　you　are。　No　fever…dreams。　He　hunched　his　shoulders　against　taunting　laughter　inside　his　head。　You　might　as　well　stop；　the　voice　snickered。　One　place　it　as　good　as　another　when　you　aren't　from　anywhere；　and　the　Dark　One　has　you　marked。
　　　　　　　Mat　tugged　at　his　sleeve；　but　he　pulled　loose　and　stared　at　the　houses。　He　did　not　want　to　stop；　but　he　did　want　to　look　and　remember。　So　much　like　home；　but　you'll　never　see　that　again；　will　you？
　　　　　　　Mat　yanked　at　him　again。　His　face　was　taut；　the　skin　around　his　mouth　and　eyes　white。　〃e　on；〃　Mat　muttered。　〃e　on。〃　He　looked　at　the　village　as　if　he　suspected　something　of　hiding　there。　〃e　on。　We　can't　stop　yet。　〃
　　　　　　　Rand　turned　in　a　plete　circle；　taking　in　the　whole　village；　and　sighed。　They　were　not　very　far　from　Whitebridge。　If　the　Myrddraal　could　get　past　Whitebridge's　wall　without　being　seen；　it　would　have　no　trouble　at　all　searching　this　small　village。　He　let　himself　be　drawn　on　into　the　countryside　beyond；　until　the　thatch…roofed　houses　were　left　behind。
　　　　　　　Night　fell　before　they　found　a　spot　by　moonlight；　under　some　bushes　still　bearing　their　dead　leaves。　They　filled　their　bellies　with　cold　water　from　a　shallow　rivulet　not　far　away　and　curled　up　on　the　ground；　wrapped　in　their　cloaks；　without　a　fire。　A　fire　could　be　seen；　better　to　be　cold。
　　　　　　　Uneasy　with　his　memories；　Rand　woke　often；　and　every　time　he　could　hear　Mat　muttering　and　tossing　in　his　sleep。　He　did　not　dream；　that　he　could　remember；　but　he　did　not　sleep　well。　You'll　never　see　home　again。
　　　　　　　That　was　not　the　only　night　they　spent　with　just　their　cloaks　to　protect　them　from　the　wind；　and　sometimes　the　rain；　cold　and　soaking。　It　was　not　the　only　meal　they　made　from　nothing　but　cold　water。　Between　them　they　had　enough　coins　for　a　few　meals　at　an　inn；　but　a　bed　for　the　night　would　take　too　much。　Things　cost　more　outside　the　Two　Rivers；　more　this　side　of　the　Arinelle　than　in　Baerlon。　What　money　they　had　left　had　to　be　saved　for　an　emergency。
　　　　　　　One　afternoon　Rand　mentioned　the　dagger　with　the　ruby　in　its　hilt；　while　they　were　trudging　down　the　road　with　bellies　too　empty　to　rumble；　and　the　sun　low　and　weak；　and　nothing　in　view　for　the　ing　night　but　more　bushes。　Dark　clouds　built　up　overhead　for　rain　during　the　night。　He　hoped　they　were　lucky；　maybe　no　more　than　an　icy　drizzle。
　　　　　　　He　went　on　a　few　steps　before　he　realized　that　Mat　had　stopped。　He　stopped；　too；　wriggling　his　toes　in　his　boots。　At　least　his　feet　felt　warm。　He　eased　the　straps　across　his　shoulders。　His　blanket　roll　and　Thom's　bundled　cloak　were　not　heavy；　but　even　a　few　pounds　weighed　heavy　after　miles　on　an　empty　stomach。　〃What's　the　matter；　Mat？〃　he　said。
　　　　　　　〃Why　are　you　so　anxious　to　sell　it？〃　Mat　demanded　angrily。　〃I　found　it；　after　all。　You　ever　think　I　might　like　to　keep　it？　For　a　while；　anyway。　If　you　want　to　sell　something；　sell　that　bloody　sword！〃
　　　　　　　Rand　rubbed　his　hand　along　the　heron…marked　hilt。　〃My　father　gave　this　sword　to　me。　It　was　his。　I　wouldn't　ask　you　to　sell　something　your　father　gave　you。　Blood　and　ashes；　Mat；　do　you　like　going　hungry？　Anyway；　even　if　I　could　find　somebody　to　buy　it；　how　much　would　a　sword　bring？　What　would　a　farmer　want　with　a　sword？　That　ruby　would　fetch　enough　to　take　us　all　the　way　to　Caemlyn　in　a　carriage。　Maybe　all　the　way　to　Tar　Valon。　And　we'd　eat　every　meal　in　an　inn；　and　sleep　every　night　in　a　bed。　Maybe　you　like　the　idea　of　walking　halfway　across　the　world　and　sleeping　on　the　ground？〃　He　glared　at　Mat；　and　his　friend　glared　back。
　　　　　　　They　stood　like　that　in　the　middle　of　the　road　until　Mat　suddenly　gave　an　unfortable　shrug；　and　dropped　his　eyes　to　the　road。　〃Who　would　I　sell　it　to；　Rand？　A　farmer　would　have　to　pay　in　chickens；　we　couldn't　buy　a　carriage　with　chickens。　And　if　I　even　showed　it　in　any　village　we've　been　through；　they'd　probably　think　we　stole　it。　The　Light　knows　what　would　happen　then。〃
　　　　　　　After　a　minute　Rand　nodded　reluctantly。　〃You're　right。　I　know　it。　I'm　sorry；　I　didn't　mean　to　snap　at　you。　It's　only　that　I'm　hungry　and　my　feet　hurt。　〃
　　　　　　　〃Mine；　too。〃　They　started　down　the　road　again；　walking　even　more　wearily　than　before。　The　wind　gusted　up；　blowing　dust　in　their　faces。　〃Mine；　too。〃　Mat　coughed。
　　　　　　　Farms　did　provide　some　meals　and　a　few　nights　out　of　the　cold。　A　haystack　was　nearly　as　warm　as　a　room　with　a　fire；　at　least　pared　to　lying　under　the　bushes；　and　a　haystack；　even　one　without　a　tarp　over　it；　kept　all　but　the　heaviest　rain　off；　if　you　dug　yourself　in　deeply　enough。　Sometimes　Mat　tried　his　hand　at　stealing　eggs；　and　once　he　attempted　to　milk　a　cow　left　unattended；　staked　out　on　a　long　rope　to　crop　in　a　field。　Most　farms　had　dogs；　though；　and　farm　dogs　were　watchful。　A　two…mile　run　with　baying　hounds　at　their　heels　was　too　high　a　price　for　two　or　three　eggs　as　Rand　saw　it；　especially　when　the　dogs　sometimes　took　hours　to　go　away　and　let　them　down　out　of　the　tree　where　they　had　taken　shelter。　The　hours　were　what　he　regretted。
　　　　　　　He　did　not　really　like　doing　it；　but　Rand　preferred　to　approach　a　farmhouse　openly　in　broad　daylight。　Now　and　again　they　had　the　dogs　set　on　them　anyway；　without　a　word　being　said；　for　the　rumors　and　the　times　made　everyone　who　lived　apart　from　other　people　nervous　about　strangers；　but　often　an　hour　or　so　chopping　wood　or　hauling　water　would　earn　a　meal　and　a　bed；　even　if　the　bed　was　a　pile　of　straw　in　the　barn。　But　an　hour　or　two　doing　chores　was　an　hour　or　two　of　daylight　when　they　were　standing　still；　an　hour　or　two　for　the　Myrddraal　to　catch　up。　Sometimes　he　wondered　how　many　miles　a　Fade　could　cover　in　an　hour。　He　begrudged　every　minute　of　it　…　though　admittedly　not　so　much　when　he　was　wolfing　down　a　goodwife's　hot　soup。　And　when　they　had　no　food；　knowing　they　had　spent　every　possible　minute　moving　toward　Caemlyn　did　not　do　much　to　soothe　an　empty　belly。　Rand　could　not　make　up　his　mind　if　it　was　worse　to　lose　time　or　go　hungry；　but　Mat　went　beyond