rj.theshadowrising-第7部分

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ends；　of　course；　and　spread　the　Light；　that　went　without　saying。　But　close　to　half　a　legion　on　Andoran　soil　without　permission　…　the　order　risked　much　if　word　of　it　reached　the　Queen　in　Caemlyn。　Too　much　to　be　balanced　by　the　few　answers　Bornhald　had　been　given。
It　all　came　back　to　Ordeith。　Bornhald　did　not　understand　how　the　Lord　Captain　mander　could　trust　this　man；　with　his　sly　grins　and　his　black　moods　and　his　haughty　stares　so　you　could　never　be　sure　what　kind　of　man　you　were　talking　to。　Not　to　mention　his　accent　changing　in　the　middle　of　a　sentence。　The　fifty　Children　who　had　acpanied　Ordeith　were　as　sullen　and　frowning　a　lot　as　Bornhald　had　ever　seen。　He　thought　Ordeith　must　have　picked　them　himself　to　have　so　many　sour　scowls；　and　it　said　something　of　the　man　that　he　would　choose　that　sort。　Even　his　name；　Ordeith；　meant　〃wormwood〃　in　the　Old　Tongue。　Still；　Bornhald　had　his　own　reasons　for　wanting　to　be　where　he　was。　He　would　cooperate　with　the　man；　since　he　had　to。　But　only　as　much　as　he　had　to。
〃Master　Ordeith；〃　he　said　in　a　carefully　level　tone；　〃this　ferry　is　the　only　way　in　or　out　of　the　Two　Rivers　district。〃　That　was　not　quite　the　truth。　According　to　the　map　he　had；　there　was　no　way　across　the　Taren　except　here；　and　the　upper　reaches　of　the　Manetherendrelle；　bordering　the　region　on　the　south；　had　no　fords。　To　the　east　lay　bogs　and　swamps。　Even　so；　there　must　be　a　way　out　westward；　across　the　Mountains　of　Mist；　though　his　map　stopped　at　the　edge　of　the　range。　At　best；　however；　it　would　be　a　hard　crossing　that　many　of　his　men　might　not　survive；　and　he　did　not　intend　to　let　Ordeith　know　of　even　that　small　chance。　〃When　it　is　time　to　leave；　if　I　find　Andoran　soldiers　holding　this　bank；　you　will　ride　with　the　first　to　cross。　You　will　find　it　interesting　to　see　at　close　hand　the　difficulty　of　forcing　a　way　across　a　river　this　wide；　yes？〃
〃This　is　your　first　mand；　is　it　not？〃　Ordeith's　voice　held　a　hint　of　mockery。　〃This　may　be　part　of　Andor　on　the　map；　but　Caemlyn　has　not　sent　a　tax　collector　this　far　west　in　generations。　Even　if　those　three　talk；　who　will　believe　three　Tinkers？　If　you　think　the　danger　is　too　great；　remember　whose　seal　is　on　your　orders。〃
Farran　glanced　at　Bornhald；　half　reached　for　his　sword。　Bornhald　shook　his　head　slightly；　and　Farran　let　his　hand　fall。　〃I　mean　to　cross　the　river；　Master　Ordeith。　I　will　cross　if　the　next　word　I　hear　is　that　Gareth　Bryne　and　the　Queen's　Guards　will　be　here　by　sundown。〃
〃Of　course；〃　Ordeith　said；　suddenly　soothing。　〃There　will　be　as　much　glory　here　as　at　Tar　Valon；　I　assure　you。〃　His　deep；　dark　eyes　took　a　glazed　look；　stared　at　something　in　the　distance。　〃There　are　things　in　Tar　Valon　I　want；　too。〃
Bornhald　shook　his　head。　And　I　must　cooperate　with　him。
Jaret　Byar　drew　up　and　swung　down　from　his　saddle　beside　Farran。　As　tall　as　the　hundredman；　Byar　was　a　long…faced　man　with　dark；　deep…set　eyes。　He　looked　as　if　every　ounce　of　fat　had　been　boiled　off　of　him。　〃The　village　is　secured；　my　Lord。　Lucellin　is　making　certain　no　one　slips　off。　They　nearly　soiled　themselves　when　I　mentioned　Darkfriends。　None　in　their　village；　they　say。　The　folk　further　south　are　the　Darkfriend　kind；　though；　they　say。〃
〃Further　south；　is　it？〃　Bornhald　said　briskly。　〃We　shall　see。　Put　three　hundreds　across　the　river；　Byar。　Farran's　first。　The　rest　to　follow　after　the　Tinkers　cross。　And　make　sure　no　more　of　them　get　away；　yes？〃
〃We　will　scour　the　Two　Rivers；〃　Ordeith　broke　in。　His　narrow　face　was　wisted；　saliva　bubbled　at　his　lips。　〃We　will　flog　them；　and　flay　them；　and　sear　their　souls！　I　promised　him！　He'll　e　to　me；　now！　He　will　e！〃
Bornhald　nodded　for　Byar　and　Farran　to　carry　out　his　mands。　A　madman；　he　thought。　The　Lord　Captain　mander　has　tied　me　to　a　madman。　But　at　least　I　will　find　my　path　to　Perrin　of　the　Two　Rivers。　Whatever　it　takes；　I　will　avenge　my　father！
　
From　a　colonnaded　terrace　on　a　hilltop；　the　High　Lady　Suroth　looked　across　the　wide；　lopsided　bowl　of　Cantorin　Harbor。　The　shaven　sides　of　her　scalp　left　a　wide　crest　of　black　hair　that　fell　down　her　back。　Her　hands　rested　lightly　on　a　smooth　stone　balustrade　as　white　as　her　pristine　gown　with　its　hundreds　of　pleats。　There　was　a　faint　rhythmic　clicking　as　she　unconsciously　drummed　her　ringers　with　their　inch…long　nails；　the　first　two　on　each　hand　lacquered　blue。
A　slight　breeze　blew　off　of　the　Aryth　Ocean；　carrying　more　than　a　hint　of　salt　in　its　coolness。　Two　young　women　kneeling　against　the　wall　behind　the　High　Lady　held　white…plumed　fans　ready　if　the　breeze　should　fail。　Two　more　women　and　four　young　men　pleted　the　line　of　crouching　figures　waiting　to　serve。　Barefoot；　all　eight　wore　sheer　robes；　to　please　the　High　Lady's　aesthetic　senses　with　the　clean　lines　of　their　limbs　and　the　grace　of　their　motions。　At　the　moment　Suroth　truly　did　not　see　the　servants；　no　more　than　one　saw　furniture。
She　saw　the　six　Deathwatch　Guards　at　either　end　of　the　colonnade；　though；　stiff　as　statues　with　their　black…tasseled　spears　and　black…lacquered　shields。　They　symbolized　her　triumph；　and　her　danger。　The　Deathwatch　Guard　served　only　the　Empress　and　her　chosen　representatives；　and　they　would　kill　or　die　with　equal　fervor；　whichever　was　necessary。　There　was　a　saying：　〃On　the　heights；　the　paths　are　paved　with　daggers。〃
Her　fingernails　clicked　on　the　stone　balustrade。　How　thin　was　the　razor's　edge　she　walked。
Vessels　of　the　Atha'an　Miere；　the　Sea　Folk；　filled　the　inner　harbor　behind　the　seawall；　even　the　largest　looking　too　narrow　for　their　length。　Cut　rigging　made　their　yards　and　booms　slant　at　crazy　angles。　Their　decks　were　empty；　their　crews　ashore　and　under　guard；　as　were　any　in　these　islands　who　had　the　skill　to　sail　the　open　sea。　Great；　bluff…bowed　Seanchan　ships　by　the　score　lay　in　the　outer　harbor；　and　anchored　off　the　harbor　mouth。　One；　its　ribbed　sails　bellied　with　wind；　escorted　a　swarm　of　small　fishing　boats　back　toward　the　island　port。　If　the　smaller　craft　scattered；　some　of　them　might　escape；　but　the　Seanchan　ship　carried　a　damane；　and　one　demonstration　of　a　damane's　power　had　quelled　any　such　thoughts。　The　charred；　shattered　hulk　of　the　Sea　Folk　ship　still　lay　on　a　mudflat　near　the　harbor　mouth。
How　long　she　would　manage　to　keep　Sea　Folk　elsewhere　…　and　the　accursed　mainlanders　…　from　learning　that　she　held　these　islands；　Suroth　did　not　know。　It　will　be　long　enough；　she　told　herself。　It　must　be　long　enough。
She　had　worked　something　of　a　miracle　in　rallying　most　of　the　Seanchan　forces　after　the　debacle　the　High　Lord　Turak　had　led　them　to。　All　but　a　handful　of　the　vessels　that　had　escaped　from　Falme　lay　under　her　control；　and　no　one　questioned　her　right　to　mand　the　Hailene；　the　Forerunners。　If　her　miracle　held；　no　one　on　the　mainland　suspected　they　were　here。　Waiting　to　take　back　the　lands　the　Empress　had　sent　them　to　reclaim；　waiting　to　achieve　the　Corenne；　the　Return。　Her　agents　already　scouted　the　way。　There　would　be　no　need　to　return　to　the　Court　of　the　Nine　Moons　and　apologize　to　the　Empress　for　a　failure　not　even　hers。
The　thought　of　having　to　apologize　to　the　Empress　sent　a　tremor　through　her。　Such　an　apology　was　always　humiliating；　and　usually　painful；　but　what　made　her　shiver　was　the　chance　of　being　denied　death　at　the　end；　of　being　forced　to　continue　as　if　nothing　had　occurred　while　everyone；　mon　as　well　as　the　Blood；　knew　her　degradation。　A　handsome　young　serving　man　sprang　to　her　side；　bearing　a　pale　green　robe　worked　in　brilliantly　plumaged　birds…of…delight。　She　held　her　arms　out　for　the　garment　and　noticed　him　no　more　than　a　clod　of　dirt　beside　her　velvet　slipper。
To　escape　that　apology；　she　must　retake　what　had　been　lost　a　thousand　years　ago。　And　to　do　that；　she　must　deal　with　this　man　who；　her　mainland　agents　told　her；　claimed　to　be　the　Dragon　Reborn。　If　I　cannot　find　a　way　to　deal　with　him；　the　displeasure　of　the　Empress　will　be　the　least　of　my　worries。
Turning　smoothly；　she　entered　the　long　room　fronting　the　terrace；　its　outer　wall　all　doors　and　tall　windows　to　catch　the　breezes。　The　pale　wood　of　the　walls；　smooth　and　glistening　like　satin；　pleased　Suroth；　but　she　had　removed　the　furnishings　of　the　old　owner；　the　former　Atha'an　Miere　governor　of　Cantorin；　and　replaced　them　with　a　few　tall　screens；　most　painted　with　birds　or　flowers。　Two　were　different。　One　showed　a　great　spotted　cat　of　the　Sen　T'jore；　as　large　as　a　pony；　the　other　a　black　mountain　eagle；　crest　erect　like　a　pale　crown　and　snowy…tipped　wings　spread　to　their　full　seven　feet。　Such　screens　were　considered　vulgar；　but　Suroth　liked　animals。　Unable　to　bring　her　menagerie　with　her　across　the　Aryth　Ocean；　she　had　had　the　screens　made　to　depict　her　two　favorites。　She　had　never　taken　kindly　to　being　balked　in　anything。
Three　women　awaited　her　as　she　had　left　them；　two　kneeling；　one　lying　prostrate　on　the　bare；　polished　floor；　patterned　in　inlays　of　light　and　dark　wood。　The　kneeling　women　wore　the　dark　blue　dresses　of　sul'dam；　red　panels　embroidered　with　forked　silver　lightning　on　the　breast　and　on　the　sides　of　their　skirts。　One　of　the　two；　Alwhin；　a　sharp…faced；　blue…eyed　woman　with　a　perpetual　glower；　had　the　left　side　of　her　head　shaved。　The　rest　of　her　hair　hung　to　her　shoulder　in　a　light　brown　braid。
Suroth's　mouth　tightened　momentarily　at　the　sight　of　Alwhin。　No　sul'dam　had　ever　before　been　raised　to　the　so'jhin；　the　hereditary　upper　servants　of　the　Blood；　much　less　to　a　Voice　of　the　Blood。　Yet　there　had　been　reasons　in　Alwhin's　case。　Alwhin　knew　too　much。
Still；　it　was　to　the　woman　lying　facedown；　all　in　plain　dark　gray；　that　Suroth　directed　her　attention。　A　wide　collar　of　silvery　metal　encircled　the　woman's　neck；　connected　by　a　shining　leash　to　a　bracelet　of　the　same　material　on　the　wrist　of　the　second　sul'dam；　Taisa。　By　means　of　leash　and　collar；　the　a'dam；　Taisa　could　control　the　gray…clad　woman。　And　she　had　to　be　controlled。　She　was　damane；　a　woman　who　could　channel；　and　thus　too　dangerous　to　be　allowed　to　run　loose。　Memories　of　the　Armies　of　the　Night　were　still　strong　in　Seanchan　a　thousand　years　after　their　destruction。
Suroth's　eyes　flickered　uneasily　to　the　two　sul'dam。　She　no　longer　trusted　any　sul'dam；　and　yet　she　had　no　choice　but　to　trust　them。　No　one　else　could　control　the　damane；　and　without　the　damane。。。。　The　very　concept　was　unthinkable。　The　power　of　Seanchan；　the　very　power　of　the　Crystal　Throne；　was　built　on　controlled　damane。　There　were　too　many　things　about　which　Suroth　had　no　choice　to　suit　her。　Such　as　Alwhin；　who　watched　as　if　she　had　been　so'jhin　all　of　her　life。　No。　As　if　she　were　of　the　Blood　itself；　and　knelt　because　she　chose　to。
〃Pura。〃　The　damane　had　had　another　name　when　she　was　one　of　the　hated　Aes　Sedai；　before　falling　into　Seanchan　hands；　but　Suroth　neither　knew　what　it　had　been　nor　cared。　The　gray…clad　woman　tensed；　but　did　not　raise　her　head；　her　training　had　been　particularly　harsh。　〃I　will　ask　again；　Pura。　How　does　the　White　Tower　control　this　man　who　calls　himself　the　Dragon　Reborn？〃
The　damane　moved　her　head　a　fraction；　enough　to　shoot　a　frightened　look　at　Taisa。　If　her　answer　was　displeasing；　the　sul'dam　could　make　her　feel　pain　without　raising　a　finger；　by　means　of　the　a'dam。　〃The　Tower　would　not　try　to　control　the　false　Dragon；　High　Lady；〃　Pura　said　breathily。　〃They　would　capture　him；　and