rj.theshadowrising-第98部分

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　　　　　　　Tam　sighed。　〃First　we'll　see　about　Natti　and　the　others。　Then　we　can　decide　what　to　do　about　the　Trollocs。　〃
　　　　　　　〃Don't　let　it　eat　you　inside；　boy；〃　Abell　said　softly。　〃Hate　can　grow　till　it　burns　everything　else　out　of　you。〃
　　　　　　　〃Nothing　is　eating　me；〃　Perrin　told　them　in　a　level　voice。　〃I　just　mean　to　do　what　needs　doing。〃　He　ran　a　thumb　along　the　edge　of　his　axe。　What　needed　doing。　
　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　Dain　Bornhald　held　himself　straight　in　his　saddle　as　the　hundred　he　had　taken　on　patrol　approached　Watch　Hill。　Fewer　than　a　hundred；　now。　Eleven　saddles　had　cloak…wrapped　bodies　tied　across　them；　and　twenty…three　more　men　nursed　wounds。　The　Trollocs　had　laid　a　neat　ambush；　it　might　have　succeeded　against　soldiers　less　well　trained；　less　tough　than　the　Children。　What　troubled　him　was　that　this　was　his　third　patrol　to　be　attacked　in　force。　Not　a　chance　encounter；　not　happening　on　Trollocs　killing　and　burning；　but　meeting　a　planned　attack。　And　only　patrols　he　led　personally。　The　Trollocs　tried　to　avoid　the　others。　The　fact　presented　worrisome　questions；　and　the　answers　he　came　up　with　gave　no　
solutions。
　　　　　　　The　sun　was　dropping。　A　few　lights　already　appeared　in　the　village　that　covered　the　hill　from　top　to　bottom　with　thatched　roofs。　The　only　tile　roof　stood　at　the　crest；　on　the　White　Boar；　the　inn。　Another　evening　he　might　have　gone　up　there　for　a　cup　of　wine；　despite　the　nervous　silence　that　closed　in　at　the　sight　of　a　white　cloak　with　a　golden　sunburst。　He　seldom　drank；　but　he　sometimes　enjoyed　being　around　people　outside　the　Children；　after　a　time　they　would　forget　his　presence　to　some　extent；　and　begin　to　laugh　and　talk　among　themselves　again。　On　another　evening。　Tonight　he　wanted　to　be　alone　to　think。
　　　　　　　There　was　activity　among　the　hundred　or　so　colorful　wagons　gathered　less　than　half　a　mile　from　the　foot　of　the　hill；　men　and　women　in　even　brighter　hues　than　their　wagons；　examining　horses　and　harness；　loading　things　that　had　been　lying　about　the　camp　for　weeks。　It　seemed　the　Traveling　People　meant　to　live　up　to　their　name；　probably　at　first　light。
　　　　　　　〃Farran！　〃　The　thick…bodied　hundredman　heeled　his　horse　closer；　and　Bornhald　nodded　toward　the　Tuatha'an　caravan。　〃Inform　the　Seeker　that　if　he　wishes　to　move　his　people；　they　will　move　south。　〃　His　maps　said　there　was　no　crossing　of　the　Taren　except　at　Taren　Ferry；　but　he　had　begun　learning　how　old　they　were　as　soon　as　he　crossed　the　river。　No　one　was　leaving　the　Two　Rivers　to　perhaps　seal　his　mand　into　a　trap　as　long　as　he　could　stop　it。　〃And　Farran？　There　is　no　need　to　use　boots　or　fists；　yes？　Words　will　suffice。　This　Raen　has　ears。〃
　　　　　　　〃By　your　mand；　Lord　Bornhald。〃　The　hundredman　sounded　only　a　little　disappointed。　Touching　gauntleted　fist　to　heart；　he　wheeled　away　toward　the　Tuatha'an　encampment。　He　would　not　like　it；　but　he　would　obey。　Despise　the　Traveling　People　as　he　might；　he　was　a　good　soldier。
　　　　　　　The　sight　of　his　own　camp　brought　a　moment　of　pride　to　Bornhald；　the　long　neat　rows　of　wedge…roofed　white　tents；　the　picket　lines　for　the　horses　precisely　arrayed。　Even　here　in　this　Light…forsaken　er　of　the　world；　the　Children　maintained　themselves；　never　allowing　discipline　to　slack。　It　was　Light…forsaken。　The　Trollocs　proved　that。　If　they　burned　farms；　it　only　meant　some　folk　here　were　pure。　Some。　The　rest　bowed；　and　said　〃Yes；　my　Lord；〃　〃as　you　wish；　my　Lord；〃　and　stubbornly　went　their　own　way　as　soon　as　his　back　was　turned。　Besides　which；　they　were　hiding　an　Aes　Sedai。　The　second　day　south　of　the　Taren　they　had　killed　a　Warder；　the　man's　color…shifting　cloak　had　been　sufficient　proof。　Bornhald　hated　Aes　Sedai；　meddling　with　the　One　Power　as　if　Breaking　the　World　once　was　not　enough。　They　would　do　it　again　if　they　were　not　stopped。　His　momentary　good　mood　faded　like　spring　snow。
　　　　　　　His　eye　sought　out　the　tent　where　the　prisoners　were　kept；　except　for　a　brief　exercise　period　each　day；　one　at　a　time。　None　would　try　running　when　it　meant　leaving　the　others　behind。　Not　that　running　would　get　them　more　that　a　dozen　paces　…　a　guard　stood　at　either　end　of　the　tent；　and　a　dozen　paces　in　any　direction　took　in　another　twenty　Children　…　but　he　wanted　as　little　trouble　as　possible。　Trouble　sparked　trouble。　If　rough　treatment　was　needed　with　the　prisoners；　it　might　raise　resentment　in　the　village　to　a　point　where　something　had　to　be　done　about　it。　Byar　was　a　fool。　He　…　and　others；　Farran　especially　…　wanted　to　put　the　prisoners　to　the　question。　Bornhald　was　not　a　Questioner；　and　he　did　not　like　to　use　their　methods。　Nor　did　he　mean　to　let　Farran　anywhere　near　those　girls；　even　if　they　were　Darkfriends；　as　Ordeith　claimed。
　　　　　　　Darkfriends　or　no　Darkfriends；　he　realized　more　and　more　that　all　he　really　wanted　was　one　Darkfriend。　More　than　the　Trollocs；　more　than　Aes　Sedai；　he　wanted　Perrin　Aybara。　He　could　hardly　credit　Byar's　tale's　of　the　man　running　with　wolves；　but　Byar　was　clear　enough　that　Aybara　had　led　Bornhald's　father　into　a　Darkfriend　trap；　led　Geofram　Bornhald　to　his　death　on　Toman　Head　at　the　hands　of　the　Seanchan　Darkfriends　and　their　Aes　Sedai　allies。　Perhaps；　if　neither　of　the　Luhhans　talked　soon；　he　might　let　Byar　have　his　way　with　the　blacksmith。　Either　the　man　would　crack；　or　his　wife　would；　watching。　One　of　them　would　give　him　the　means　to　find　Perrin　Aybara。
　　　　　　　When　he　dismounted　in　front　of　his　tent；　Byar　was　there　to　meet　him；　stiff　and　gaunt　as　a　scarecrow。　Bornhald　glanced　distastefully　toward　a　much　smaller　collection　of　tents　apart　from　the　rest。　The　wind　was　from　that　direction；　and　he　could　smell　the　other　camp。　They　did　not　keep　their　picket　lines　clean；　or　themselves。　〃Ordeith　is　back；　it　seems；　yes？〃
　　　　　　　〃Yes；　my　Lord　Bornhald。　〃　Byar　stopped；　and　Bornhald　looked　at　him　questioningly。　〃They　report　a　skirmish　with　Trollocs　to　the　south。　Two　dead。　Six　wounded；　they　claim。
　　　　　　　〃And　who　are　the　dead？〃　Bornhald　asked　quietly。
　　　　　　　〃Child　Joelin　and　Child　Gomanes；　my　Lord　Bornhald。〃　Byar's　hollow…cheeked　expression　never　changed。
　　　　　　　Bornhald　drew　off　his　steel…backed　gauntlets　slowly。　The　two　he　had　sent　off　to　acpany　Ordeith；　to　see　what　he　did　on　his　forays　south。　Carefully；　he　did　not　raise　his　voice。　〃My　pliments　to　Master　Ordeith；　Byar；　and　…　No！　No　pliments。　Tell　him；　in　these　words；　that　I　will　have　his　scrawny　bones　before　me　now。　Tell　him；　Byar；　and　bring　him　if　you　must　arrest　him　and　those　filthy　wretches　who　disgrace　the　Children。　Go。〃
　　　　　　　Bornhald　held　his　anger　until　he　was　inside　his　tent；　flap　lowered；　then　swept　maps　and　writing　case　from　his　camp　table　with　a　snarl。；　Ordeith　must　think　him　an　imbecile。　Twice　he　had　sent　men　with　the　fellow；　and　twice　they　had　been　the　only　deaths　in　〃a　skirmish　with　Trollocs〃　that　left　no　wounded　to　show　among　the　rest。　Always　to　the　south。　The　man　was　obsessed　with　Emond's　Field。　Well；　he　himself　might　have　had　his　camp　there；　if　not　for。。。　No　point　to　it　now。　He　had　the　Luhhans　here。　They　would　give　him　Perrin　Aybara；　one　way　or　another。　Watch　Hill　was　a　much　better　site　if　he　had　to　move　to　Taren　Ferry　quickly。　Military　considerations　before　personal。
　　　　　　　For　the　thousandth　time　he　wondered　why　the　Lord　Captain　mander　had　sent　him　here。　The　people　seemed　no　different　from　those　he　had　seen　a　hundred　other　places。　Except　that　only　the　Taren　Ferry　folk　showed　any　enthusiasm　for　rooting　out　their　own　Darkfriends。　The　rest　stared　with　a　sullen　stubbornness　when　the　Dragon's　Fang　was　scrawled　on　a　door。　A　village　always　knew　who　its　own　undesirables　were；　they　were　always　ready　to　cleanse　themselves；　with　a　little　encouragement；　and　any　Darkfriends　were　certain　to　be　swept　up　with　the　others　the　people　wanted　gone。　But　not　here。　The　black　scrawl　of　a　sharp　fang　on　a　door　might　as　well　be　new　whitewash　for　all　of　its　real　effect。　And　the　Trollocs。　Had　Pedron　Niall　known　the　Trollocs　would　e　when　he　wrote　those　orders？　How　could　he　have？　But　if　not；　why　had　he　sent　enough　of　the　Children　to　put　down　a　small　rebellion？　And　why　under　the　Light　had　the　Lord　Captain　mander　burdened　him　with　a　murderous　madman？
　　　　　　　The　tent　flap　swept　aside；　and　Ordeith　swaggered　in。　His　fine　gray　coat　was　embroidered　with　silver；　but　stained　heavily。　His　scrawny　neck　was　dirty；　too；　jutting　out　of　his　collar　and　giving　him　the　look　of　a　turtle。　〃A　good　evening　to　you；　my　Lord　Bornhald。　A　gracious　good　evening；　and　splendid。〃　The　Lugard　accent　was　heavy　today。
　　　　　　　〃What　happened　to　Child　Joelin　and　Child　Gomanes；　Ordeith？〃
　　　　　　　〃Such　a　terrible　thing；　my　Lord。　When　we　came　on　the　Trollocs；　Child　Gomanes　bravely　…〃　Bornhald　struck　him　across　the　face　with　his　gauntlets。　Staggering；　the　bony　man　put　a　hand　to　his　split　lip；　examined　the　red　on　his　fingers。　The　smile　on　his　face　no　longer　mocked。　It　looked　viperish。　〃Are　you　forgetting　who　signed　my　mission　now；　lordling？　Pedron　Niall　will　be　hanging　you　with　your　mother's　guts　if　I　say　a　word；　after　he　has　the　both　of　you　skinned　alive。〃
　　　　　　　〃That　is　if　you　are　alive　to　speak　this　word；　yes？〃
　　　　　　　Ordeith　snarled；　crouching　like　some　wild　thing；　spittle　bubbling。　Slowly　he　shook　himself；　slowly　straightened。　〃We　must　work　together。〃　The　Lugarder　accent　was　gone；　replaced　by　a　grander；　more　manding　tone。　Bornhald　preferred　the　taunting　Lugarder　voice　to　the　slightly　oily；　barely　veiled　contempt　in　this　one。　〃The　Shadow　lies　all　around　us　here。　Not　simply　Trollocs　and　Myrddraal。　They　are　the　least　of　it。　Three　were　spawned　here；　Darkfriends　meant　to　shake　the　world；　their　breeding　guided　by　the　Dark　One　for　a　thousand　years　or　more。　Rand　al'Thor。　Mat　Cauthon。　Perrin　Aybara。　You　know　their　names。　In　this　place；　forces　are　loosed　that　will　harrow　the　world。　Creatures　of　the　Shadow　walk　the　night；　tainting　men's　hearts；　corrupting　men's　dreams。　Scourge　this　land。　
　　　　　　　Scourge　it；　and　they　will　e。　Rand　al'Thor。　Mat　Cauthon。　Perrin　Aybara。〃　He　almost　caressed　the　last　name。
　　　　　　　Bornhald　drew　ragged　breath。　He　was　not　sure　how　Ordeith　had　discovered　what　he　wanted　here；　one　day　the　man　had　simply　revealed　his　knowledge。　〃I　covered　over　what　you　did　at　the　Aybara　farm　…〃
　　　　　　　〃Scourge　them。〃　There　was　a　hint　of　madness　in　that　grand　voice；　and　sweat　on　Ordeith's　brow。　〃Flay　them；　and　the　three　will　e。〃
　　　　　　　Bornhald　raised　his　voice。　〃Covered　it　over　because　I　had　to。〃　There　had　been　no　choice。　If　the　truth　came　out；　he　would　have　more　than　sullen　stares　to　contend　with。　The　last　thing　he　needed　was　open　rebellion　on　top　of　Trollocs。　〃But　I　will　not　condone　the　murder　of　Children。　Do　you　hear　me？　What　is　it　you　do　that　you　need　to　hide　from　the　Children？〃
　　　　　　　〃Do　you　doubt　the　Shadow　will　do　whatever　is　needed　to　stop　me？〃
　　　　　　　〃What？〃
　　　　　　　〃Do　you　doubt　it？〃　Ordeith　leaned　forward　intently。　〃You　saw　the　Gray　Men。〃
　　　　　　　Bornhald　hesitated。　Fifty　of　the　Children　around　him；　in　the　middle　of　Watch　Hill；　and　no　one　had　noticed　the　pair　with　their　daggers。　He　had　looked　right　at　them　and　not　seen。　Until　Ordeith　killed　the　pair。　The　scrawny　little　fellow　had　gained　considerable　standing　with　the　men　for　that。　Later　Bornhald　had　buried　the　daggers　deep。　Those　blades　had　looked　to　be　steel；　but　a　touch　seared　like　molten　metal。　The　first　earth　thrown　on　them　in　the　pit　had　hissed　and　steamed。　〃You　be