rj.theshadowrising-第184部分

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？〃　he　sneered。　〃Your　plan　only　failed　because　these　others　arrived　…　yes？　…　and　you　can　claim　no　part　in　that。〃　Faile　shifted；　without　looking　away　from　the　man；　Perrin　laid　a　finger　across　her　lips　just　as　she　opened　her　mouth。　She　bit　him　…　hard　…　but　she　did　not　say　anything。　Bornhald's　voice　finally　began　to　rise。　〃I　will　see　you　hang；　Shadowspawn。　I　will　see　you　hang；　whatever　it　takes！　I　will　see　you　dead　if　the　world　burns！〃　The　last　came　as　a　shout。　Byar's　sword　slid　a　hand　of　bare　steel　from　its　scabbard；　a　massive　Whitecloak　behind　him　…　Farran；　Perrin　thought　his　name　was　…　drew　his　pletely；　with　a　pleased　smile　rather　than　Byar's　toothy　snarl。
　　　　　　　They　froze　as　quivers　rattled　to　arrows　being　drawn；　and　bows　came　up　all　around　the　circle；　fletchings　drawn　to　ear；　every　broadhead　shaft　pointed　at　a　Whitecloak。　Up　and　down　the　thick　column；　high…cantled　saddles　creaked　as　men　shifted　uneasily。　Bornhald　showed　no　sign　of　fear；　and　he　did　not　smell　of　it；　either；　his　scent　was　all　hate。　He　ran　almost　fevered　eyes　over　the　Two　Rivers　folk　encircling　his　men　and　returned　them　to　Perrin　just　as　hot　and　hate…filled。
　　　　　　　Perrin　motioned　downward；　and　tension　was　let　off　bowstrings　reluctantly；　bows　lowered　slowly。　〃You　would　not　help。〃　His　voice　was　cold　iron；　anvil…hard。　〃Since　you　came　to　the　Two　Rivers；　the　help　you've　given　has　been　almost　accidental。　You　never　really　cared　if　people　were　burned　out；　killed；　so　long　as　you　could　find　somebody　to　call　Darkfriend。〃　Bornhald　shivered；　though　his　eyes　still　burned。　〃It　is　time　for　you　to　go。　Not　just　from　Emond's　Field。　It　is　time　for　you　to　gather　up　your　Whitecloaks　and　leave　the　Two　Rivers。　Now；　Bornhald。　You　are　going　now。〃
　　　　　　　〃I　will　see　you　hang　one　day；〃　Bornhald　said　softly。　He　jerked　his　hand　for　the　column　to　follow　and　booted　his　horse　forward　as　if　he　meant　to　ride　Perrin　over。
　　　　　　　Perrin　moved　Stepper　aside；　he　wanted　these　men　gone；　not　more　killing。　Let　the　man　have　a　final　gesture　of　defiance。
　　　　　　　Bornhald　never　turned　his　head；　but　hollow…cheeked　Byar　stared　silent　hate　at　Perrin；　and　Farran　seemed　to　look　at　him　with　regret　for　some　reason。　The　others　kept　their　eyes　front　as　they　passed　in　a　jingle　of　tack　and　the　clop　of　hooves。　Silently　the　circle　opened　to　let　them　out；　heading　north。
　　　　　　　A　knot　of　ten　or　twelve　men　approached　Perrin　on　foot；　some　in　mismatched　bits　and　pieces　of　old　armor；　all　grinning　anxiously；　as　the　last　of　the　Whitecloaks　went　by。　He　did　not　recognize　any　of　them。　A　wide…nosed；　leathery…faced　fellow　seemed　to　be　their　leader；　his　white　hair　bare　but　a　rusty　mail　shirt　covering　him　to　the　knees；　though　the　collar　of　a　farmer's　coat　poked　up　around　his　neck。　He　bowed　awkwardly　over　his　bow。　〃Jerinvar　Barstere；　my　Lord　Perrin。　Jer；　they　call　me。〃　He　spoke　hurriedly；　as　if　afraid　of　being　interrupted。　〃Pardon　for　bothering　you。　Some　of　us　will　see　the　Whitecloaks　along；　if　that's　all　right　with　you。　A　good　many　want　to　get　on　home；　even　if　we　can't　get　there　before　dark。　There's　as　many　Whitecloaks　again　in　Watch　Hill；　but　they　would　not　e。　Had　orders　to　hold　fast；　they　said。　Bunch　of　fools；　if　you　ask　me；　and　we're　more　than　tired　of　having　them　around；　poking　their　noses　into　people's　houses　and　trying　to　make　you　accuse　your　neighbor　of　something。　We'll　see　them　off；　if　that's　all　right　with　you。〃　He　gave　Faile　an　abashed　look；　ducking　his　broad　chin；　but　the　flow　of　words　did　not　slow。　〃Pardon；　my　Lady　Faile。　Didn't　mean　to　bother　you　and　your　lord。　Just　wanted　to　let　him　know　we're　with　him。　A　fine　woman　you　have　there；　my　Lord。　A　fine　woman。　No　offense　meant；　my　Lady。　Well；　we've　daylight　still；　and　talk　shears　no　sheep。　Pardon　for　bothering　you；　my　Lord　Perrin。　Pardon；　my　Lady　Faile。〃　He　bowed　again；　imitated　by　the　others；　and　they　hurried　away　with　him　herding　them；　muttering　at　them；　〃No　time　for　us　to　be　bothering　the　lord　and　his　lady。　There's　work　to　do　yet。〃
　　　　　　　〃Who　was　that？〃　Perrin　said；　a　trifle　stunned　by　the　torrent；　Daise　and　Cenn　together　could　not　talk　that　much。　〃Do　you　know　him；　Faile？　From　Watch　Hill？〃
　　　　　　　〃Master　Barstere　is　the　Mayor　of　Watch　Hill；　and　the　others　are　the　Village　Council。　The　Watch　Hill　Women's　Circle　will　be　sending　a　delegation　down　under　their　Wisdom　once　they're　certain　it　is　safe。　To　see　if　'this　Lord　Perrin'　is　right　for　the　Two　Rivers；　they　say；　but　they　all　wanted　me　to　show　them　how　to　curtsy　to　you；　and　the　Wisdom；　Edelle　Gaelin；　is　bringing　you　some　of　her　dried…apple　tarts。〃
　　　　　　　〃Oh；　burn　me！〃　he　breathed。　It　was　spreading。　He　knew　he　should　have　stamped　it　down　hard　in　the　beginning。　〃Don't　call　me　that！〃　he　shouted　after　the　departing　men。　〃I'm　a　blacksmith！　Do　you　hear　me？　A　blacksmith！〃　Jer　Barstere　turned　to　wave　at　him　and　nod　before　hurrying　the　others　on。
　　　　　　　Chortling；　Faile　tugged　at　his　beard。　〃You　are　a　sweet　fool；　my　Lord　Blacksmith。　It　is　too　late　to　turn　back　now。〃　Suddenly　her　smile　became　truly　wicked。　〃Husband；　is　there　any　possibility　you　might　be　alone　with　your　wife　any　time　soon？　Marriage　seems　to　have　made　me　as　bold　as　a　Domani　gall！　I　know　you　must　be　tired；　but　…〃　She　cut　off　with　a　small　shriek　and　clung　to　his　coat　as　he　booted　Stepper　to　a　gallop　toward　the　Winespring　Inn。　For　once　the　cheers　that　followed　did　not　bother　him　at　all。
　　　　　　　〃Goldeneyes！　Lord　Perrin！　Goldeneyes！〃
　
　　　　　　　From　the　thick　branch　of　a　leafy　oak　on　the　edge　of　the　Westwood；　Ordeith　stared　at　Emond's　Field；　a　mile　to　the　south。　It　was　impossible。　Scourge　them。　Flay　them。　Everything　had　been　going　according　to　plan。　Even　Isam　had　played　into　his　hands。　Why　did　the　fool　stop　bringing　Trollocs？　He　should　have　brought　in　enough　to　turn　the　Two　Rivers　black　with　them！　Spittle　dripped　from　his　lips；　but　he　did　not　notice；　any　more　than　he　realized　that　his　hand　was　fumbling　at　his　belt。　Harry　them　till　their　hearts　burst！　Harrow　them　into　the　ground　screaming！　All　planned　to　pull　Rand　al'Thor　to　him；　and　it　came　to　this！　The　Two　Rivers　had　not　even　been　scratched。　A　few　farms　burned　did　not　count；　nor　a　few　farmers　butchered　alive　for　Trolloc　cookpots。　I　want　the　Two　Rivers　to　burn；　burn　so　the　fire　lives　in　men's　memories　for　a　thousand　years！
　　　　　　　He　studied　the　banner　waving　over　the　village；　and　the　one　not　that　far　below　him。　A　scarlet　wolfhead　on　scarlet…bordered　white；　and　a　red　eagle。　Red　for　the　blood　the　Two　Rivers　must　shed　to　make　Rand　al'Thor　howl。　Manetheren。　That's　meant　to　be　Manetheren's　banner。　Someone　had　told　them　of　Manetheren；　had　they？　What　did　these　fools　know　of　the　glories　of　Manetheren？　Manetheren。　Yes。　There　was　more　than　one　way　to　scourge　them。　He　laughed　so　hard　he　nearly　fell　out　of　the　oak　before　he　realized　that　he　was　not　holding　on　with　both　hands；　that　one　gripped　his　belt　where　a　dagger　should　have　hung。　The　laugh　twisted　into　a　snarl　as　he　stared　at　that　hand。　The　White　Tower　held　what　had　been　stolen　from　him。　What　was　his　by　right　as　old　as　the　Trolloc　Wars。
　　　　　　　He　let　himself　drop　to　the　ground；　and　scrambled　onto　his　horse　before　looking　at　his　panions。　His　hounds。　The　thirty　or　so　Whitecloaks　remaining　no　longer　wore　their　white　cloaks；　of　course。　Rust　spotted　their　dull　plate…and…mail；　and　Bornhald　would　never　have　recognized　those　sullen；　suspicious　faces；　dirty　and　unshaven。　The　humans　watched　Ordeith；　distrustful　yet　afraid；　not　even　glancing　at　the　Myrddraal　in　their　midst；　its　slug…pale；　eyeless　face　as　bleakly　wooden　as　theirs。　The　Halfman　feared　Isam　would　find　it；　Isam　had　not　at　all　been　pleased　when　that　raid　on　Taren　Ferry　let　so　many　escape　to　carry　away　word　of　what　was　happening　in　the　Two　Rivers。　Ordeith　giggled　at　the　thought　of　Isam　disforted。　The　man　was　a　problem　for　another　time；　if　he　still　lived。
　　　　　　　〃We　ride　for　Tar　Valon；〃　he　snapped。　Hard　riding；　to　beat　Bornhald　to　the　ferry。　Manetheren's　banner；　raised　again　in　the　Two　Rivers　after　all　these　centuries。　How　the　Red　Eagle　had　harried　him；　so　long　ago。　〃But　Caemlyn　first！〃　Scourge　them　and　flay　them！　Let　the　Two　Rivers　pay　first；　and　then　Rand　al'Thor；　and　then。。。
　　　　　　　Laughing；　he　galloped　north　through　the　forest；　not　looking　back　to　see　if　the　others　followed。　They　would。　They　had　nowhere　else　to　go　now。
　　　　　　　

Chapter　57
（Spears　and　Shield）
A　Breaking　in　the　Three…fold　Land

　　　　　　　The　molten　afternoon　sun　broiled　the　Waste；　flinging　shadows　across　the　mountains　to　the　north；　just　ahead　now。　The　dry　hills　passed　beneath　Jeade'en's　hooves；　high　and　low　like　swells　in　an　ocean　of　cracked　clay；　miles　rolling　away　behind。　The　mountains　had　held　Rand's　eyes　since　they　first　came　in　sight　the　day　before；　not　snowcapped；　not　so　tall　as　the　Mountains　of　Mist；　much　less　the　Spine　of　the　World；　but　jagged　slabs　of　brown　and　gray　stone；　streaked　in　some　places　with　yellow　or　red　or　bands　of　glittering　flecks；　tumbled　about　so　that　a　man　might　think　to　try　the　Dragonwall　afoot　first。　Sighing；　he　settled　in　his　saddle　and　adjusted　the　shoufa　he　wore　with　his　red　coat。　In　those　mountains　lay　Alcair　Dal。　Soon　there　would　be　an　ending　of　sorts；　or　a　beginning。　Maybe　both。　Soon；　perhaps。
　　　　　　　Yellow…haired　Adelin　strode　easily　ahead　of　the　dapple　stallion；　and　nine　more　sun…dark　Far　Dareis　Mai　made　a　wide　ring　around　him；　all　with　bucklers　and　spears　in　hand；　cased　bows　on　their　backs；　black　veils　dangling　on　their　chests　ready　to　be　lifted。　Rand's　honor　guard。　The　Aiel　did　not　call　it　that；　yet　the　Maidens　came　to　Alcair　Dal　for　Rand's　honor。　So　many　differences；　and　he　did　not　know　what　half　really　were　even　when　he　saw　them。
　　　　　　　For　instance；　Aviendha's　behavior　toward　the　Maidens；　and　theirs　to　her。　Most　of　the　time；　as　now；　she　walked　beside　his　horse　with　her　arms　folded　in　the　shawl　around　her　shoulders；　green　eyes　intent　beneath　her　dark　head　scarf　on　the　mountains　ahead；　she　seldom　spoke　with　the　Maidens　beyond　a　word　or　two；　but　that　was　not　the　oddity。　Her　arms　folded；　that　was　the　heart　of　it。　The　Maidens　knew　she　wore　the　ivory　bracelet；　yet　seemed　to　pretend　not　to　see　it；　she　would　not　take　it　off；　yet　hid　her　wrist　whenever　she　thought　one　of　them　might　be　looking。
　　　　　　　You　have　no　society；　Adelin　had　told　him　when　he　suggested　some　other　than　the　Maidens　of　the　Spear　might　provide　his　escort。　Each　chief；　whether　of　clan　or　sept；　would　be　acpanied　by　men　from　the　society　he　had　belonged　to　before　being　chief。　You　have　no　society；　but　your　mother　was　a　Maiden。　The　yellow…haired　woman　and　the　other　nine　had　not　looked　at　Aviendha；　a　few　steps　away　in　the　entry　hall　to　Lian's　roof；　they　had　not　looked　intently。　For　countless　years　Maidens　who　would　not　give　up　the　spear　have　given　their　babes　for　the　Wise　Ones　to　hand　to　other　women；　none　knowing　where　the　child　went　or　even　whether　boy　or　girl。　Now　a　Maiden's　son　has　e　back　to　us；　and　we　know　him。　We　will　go　to　Alcair　Dal　for　your　honor；　son　of　Shaiel；　a　Maiden　of　the　Chumai　Taardad。　Her　face　was　so　set　…　all　of　their　faces　were；　including　Aviendha's　…　that　he　thought　they　might　offer　to　dance　the　spears　if　he　refused。
　　　　　　　When　he　accepted；　they　made　him　go　through　that　ritual　of　〃Remember　honor〃　again；　this　time　with　some　drink　called　oosquai；　made　from　zemai；　drinking　to　the　bottom　of　a　small　silver　cup　with　each　of　them。　Ten　Maidens；　ten　little　cu