rj.thegreathunt-第41部分

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t　the　witches　be　no　so　bad　as　some　make　them　out；　anyway。　I'd　no　say　so　much　to　many　men。　I　know　a　money　changer　who　do　handle　such。　You'll　no　have　to　give　me　another；　with　as　few　as　be　here　tonight。　More　ale　for　you；　Bayle？〃
　　　　　　　He　nodded　numbly；　though　his　mug　was　still　almost　full；　and　she　trundled　off。　She　was　a　friend；　and　would　not　speak　of　what　she　had　seen。　He　sat　staring　at　the　leather　pouch。　Another　mug　was　brought　before　he　could　make　himself　open　it　enough　to　look　at　the　coins　inside。　He　stirred　them　with　a　callused　finger。　Gold　marks　glittered　up　at　him　in　the　lamplight；　every　one　of　them　bearing　the　damning　Flame　of　Tar　Valon。　Hurriedly　he　tied　the　bag。　Dangerous　coins。　One　or　two　might　pass；　but　so　many　would　say　to　most　people　exactly　what　Nieda　thought。　There　were　Children　of　the　Light　in　the　city；　and　although　there　was　no　law　in　Illian　against　dealing　with　Aes　Sedai；　he　would　never　make　it　to　a　magistrate　if　the　Whitecloaks　heard　of　this。　These　men　had　made　sure　he　would　not　simply　take　the　gold　and　stay　in　Illian。
　　　　　　　While　he　was　sitting　there　worrying；　Yarin　Maeldan；　his　brooding；　stork…like　second　on　Spray；　came　into　the　Badger　with　his　brows　pulled　down　to　his　long　nose　and　stood　over　the　captain's　table。　〃Carn's　dead；　Captain。〃
　　　　　　　Domon　stared　at　him；　frowning。　Three　others　of　his　men　had　already　been　killed；　one　each　time　he　refused　a　mission　that　would　take　him　east。　The　magistrates　had　done　nothing；　the　streets　were　dangerous　at　night；　they　said；　and　sailors　a　rough　and　quarrelsome　lot。　Magistrates　seldom　troubled　themselves　with　what　happened　in　the　Perfumed　Quarter；　as　long　as　no　respectable　citizens　were　injured。
　　　　　　　〃But　this　time　I　did　accept　them；〃　he　muttered。
　　　　　　　〃'Tisn't　all；　Captain；〃　Yarin　said。　〃They　worked　Carn　with　knives；　like　they　wanted　him　to　tell　them　something。　And　some　more　men　tried　to　sneak　aboard　Spray　not　an　hour　gone。　The　dock　watch　ran　them　off。　Third　time　in　ten　days；　and　I　never　knew　wharf　rats　to　be　so　persistent。　They　like　to　let　an　alarm　die　down　before　they　try　again。　And　somebody　tossed　my　room　at　the　Silver　Dolphin　last　night。　Took　some　silver；　so　I'd　think　it　was　thieves；　but　they　left　that　belt　buckle　of　mine；　the　one　set　with　garnets　and　moonstones；　lying　right　out　in　plain　sight。　What's　going　on；　Captain？　The　men　are　afraid；　and　I'm　a　little　nervous　myself。〃
　　　　　　　Domon　reared　to　his　feet。　〃Roust　the　crew；　Yarin。　Find　them　and　tell　them　Spray　sails　as　soon　as　there　do　be　men　enough　aboard　to　handle　her。〃　Stuffing　the　parchment　into　his　coat　pocket；　he　snatched　up　the　bag　of　gold　and　pushed　his　second　out　the　door　ahead　of　him。　〃Roust　them；　Yarin；　for　I'll　leave　any　man　who　no　makes　it；　standing　on　the　quay　as　he　is。〃
　　　　　　　Domon　gave　Yarin　a　shove　to　start　him　running；　then　stalked　off　toward　the　docks。　Even　footpads　who　heard　the　clinking　of　the　pouch　he　carried　steered　clear　of　him；　for　he　walked　now　like　a　man　going　to　do　murder。
　　　　　　　There　were　already　crewmen　scrambling　aboard　Spray　when　he　arrived；　and　more　running　barefoot　down　the　stone　quay。　They　did　not　know　what　he　feared　was　pursuing　him；　or　even　that　anything　did　pursue　him；　but　they　knew　he　made　good　profits；　and　after　the　Illianer　way；　he　gave　shares　to　the　crew。
　　　　　　　Spray　was　eighty　feet　long；　with　two　masts；　and　broad　in　the　beam；　with　room　for　deck　cargo　as　well　as　in　the　holds。　Despite　what　Domon　had　told　the　Cairhienin　…　if　they　had　been　Cairhienin　…　he　thought　she　could　stand　the　open　water。　The　Sea　of　Storms　was　quieter　in　the　summer。
　　　　　　　〃She'll　have　to；〃　he　muttered；　and　strode　below　to　his　cabin。
　　　　　　　He　tossed　the　sack　of　gold　on　his　bed；　built　neatly　against　the　hull　like　everything　else　in　the　stern　cabin；　and　dug　out　the　parchment。　Lighting　a　lantern；　hanging　in　its　swivel　from　the　overhead；　he　studied　the　sealed　document；　turning　it　as　if　he　could　read　what　was　inside　without　opening　it。　A　rap　on　the　door　made　him　frown。
　　　　　　　〃e。〃
　　　　　　　Yarin　stuck　his　head　in。　〃They're　all　aboard　but　three　I　couldn't　find；　Captain。　But　I've　spread　the　word　through　every　tavern；　hell；　and　crib　in　the　quarter。　They'll　be　aboard　before　it's　light　enough　to　start　upriver。〃
　　　　　　　〃Spray　do　sail　now。　To　sea。〃　Domon　cut　off　Yarin's　protests　about　light　and　tides；　and　Spray　not　being　built　for　the　open　sea。　〃Now！　Spray　can　clear　the　bars　at　dead　low　tide。　You've　no　forgotten　how　to　sail　by　the　stars；　have　you？　Take　her　out；　Yarin。　Take　her　out　now；　and　e　back　to　me　when　we　be　beyond　the　breakwater。〃
　　　　　　　His　second　hesitated　…　Domon　never　let　a　tricky　bit　of　sailing　pass　without　him　on　deck　giving　orders；　and　taking　Spray　out　in　the　night　would　be　all　of　that；　shallow　draft　or　no　…　then　nodded　and　vanished。　In　moments　the　sounds　of　Yarin　shouting　orders　and　bare　feet　thumping　on　the　decks　overhead　penetrated　Domon's　cabin。　He　ignored　them；　even　when　the　ship　lurched；　catching　the　tide。
　　　　　　　Finally　he　lifted　the　mantle　of　the　lantern　and　stuck　a　knife　into　the　flame。　Smoke　curled　up　as　oil　burned　off　the　blade；　but　before　the　metal　could　turn　red；　he　pushed　charts　out　of　the　way　and　pressed　the　parchment　flat　on　his　desk；　working　the　hot　steel　slowly　under　the　sealing　wax。　The　top　fold　lifted。
　　　　　　　It　was　a　simple　document；　without　preamble　or　salutation；　and　it　made　sweat　break　out　on　his　forehead。
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　The　bearer　of　this　is　a　Darkfriend　wanted　in　Cairhien　for　murders　and　other　foul　crimes；　least　among　them；　theft　from　Our　Person。　We　call　upon　you　to　seize　this　man　and　all　things　found　in　his　keeping；　to　the　smallest。　Our　representative　will　e　to　carry　away　what　he　has　stolen　from　Us。　Let　all　he　possesses；　save　what　We　claim；　go　to　you　at　reward　for　taking　him。　Let　the　vile　miscreant　himself　be　hanged　immediately；　that　his　Shadow…spawned　villainy　no　longer　taint　the　Light。
　　　　　　　Sealed　by　Our　Hand
　　　　　　　Galldrian　su　Riatin　Rie
　　　　　　　King　of　Cairhien
　　　　　　　Defender　of　the　Dragonwall
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　In　thin　red　wax　below　the　signature　were　impressed　the　Rising　Sun　seal　of　Cairhien　and　the　Five　Stars　of　House　Riatin。
　　　　　　　〃Defender　of　the　Dragonwall；　my　aged　grandmother；〃　Domon　croaked。　〃Fine　right　the　man　do　have　to　call　himself　that　any　longer。〃
　　　　　　　He　examined　the　seals　and　signature　minutely；　holding　the　document　close　to　the　lamp；　with　his　nose　all　but　brushing　the　parchment；　but　he　could　find　no　flaw　in　the　one；　and　for　the　other；　he　had　no　idea　what　Galldrian's　hand　looked　like。　If　it　was　not　the　King　himself　who　had　signed　it；　he　suspected　that　whoever　had　had　made　a　good　imitation　of　Galldrian's　scrawl。　In　any　case；　it　made　no　real　difference。　In　Tear；　the　letter　would　be　instantly　damning　in　the　hands　of　an　Illianer。　Or　in　Mayene；　with　Tairen　influence　so　strong。　There　was　no　war　now；　and　men　from　either　port　came　and　went　freely；　but　there　was　as　little　love　for　Illianers　in　Tear　as　the　other　way　round。　Especially　with　an　excuse　like　this。
　　　　　　　For　a　moment　he　thought　of　putting　the　parchment　into　the　lantern's　flame　…　it　was　a　dangerous　thing　to　have；　in　Tear　or　Illian　or　anywhere　he　could　imagine　…　but　finally　he　tucked　it　carefully　into　a　secret　cubbyhole　behind　his　desk；　concealed　by　a　panel　only　he　knew　how　to　open。
　　　　　　　〃My　possessions；　eh？〃
　　　　　　　He　collected　old　things；　as　much　as　he　could　living　on　shipboard。　What　he　could　not　buy；　because　it　was　too　expensive　or　too　large；　he　collected　by　seeing　and　remembering。　All　those　remnants　of　times　gone；　those　wonders　scattered　around　the　world　that　had　first　pulled　him　aboard　a　ship　as　boy。　He　had　added　four　to　his　collection　in　Maradon　this　last　trip；　and　it　had　been　then　that　the　Darkfriend　pursuit　began。　And　Trollocs；　too；　for　a　time。　He　had　heard　that　Whitebridge　had　been　burned　to　the　ground　right　after　he　sailed　from　there；　and　there　had　been　rumors　of　Myrddraal　as　well　as　Trollocs。　It　was　that；　all　of　it　together；　that　had　first　convinced　him　he　was　not　imagining　things；　that　had　had　him　on　guard　when　that　first　odd　mission　was　offered；　too　much　money　for　a　simple　voyage　to　Tear；　and　a　thin　tale　for　a　reason。
　　　　　　　Digging　into　his　chest；　he　set　out　on　the　desk　what　he　had　bought　in　Maradon。　A　lightstick；　left　from　the　Age　of　Legends；　or　so　it　was　said。　Certainly　no　one　knew　the　making　of　them　any　longer。　Expensive；　that；　and　rarer　than　an　honest　magistrate。　It　looked　like　a　plain　glass　rod；　thicker　than　his　thumb　and　not　quite　as　long　as　his　forearm；　but　when　held　in　the　hand　it　glowed　as　brightly　as　a　lantern。　Lightsticks　shattered　like　glass；　too；　he　had　nearly　lost　Spray　in　the　fire　caused　by　the　first　he　had　owned。　A　small；　age…dark　ivory　carving　of　a　man　holding　a　sword。　The　fellow　who　sold　it　claimed　if　you　held　it　long　enough　you　started　to　feel　warm。　Domon　never　had；　and　neither　had　any　of　the　crew　he　let　hold　it；　but　it　was　old；　and　that　was　enough　for　Domon。　The　skull　of　a　cat　as　big　as　a　lion；　and　so　old　it　was　turned　to　stone。　But　no　lion　had　ever　had　fangs；　almost　tusks；　a　foot　long。　And　a　thick　disk　the　size　of　a　man's　hand；　half　white　and　half　black；　a　sinuous　line　separating　the　colors。　The　shopkeeper　in　Maradon　had　said　it　was　from　the　Age　of　Legends；　thinking　he　lied；　but　Domon　had　haggled　only　a　little　before　paying；　because　he　recognized