rj.theshadowrising-第124部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


　him；　he　wore　an　inward　grin。
　　　　　　　For　himself；　Perrin　traveled　wrapped　in　worry；　and　kept　his　strung　bow　across　the　tall　pommel　of　his　saddle。　Did　this　man　called　Slayer　rove　the　Two　Rivers　only　in　the　wolf　dream；　or　was　he　in　the　waking　world；　too？　Perrin　suspected　the　latter；　and　that　Slayer　was　the　one　who　had　shot　the　hawk　for　no　reason。　It　was　another　plication　he　could　do　without；　on　top　of　the　Children　of　the　Light。
　　　　　　　His　family　lived　on　a　sprawling　farm　more　than　half　a　day　beyond　Emond's　Field；　almost　to　the　Waterwood。　His　father　and　mother；　his　sisters；　his　baby　brother。　Paetram　would　be　nine　now；　no　doubt　objecting　more　strenuously　than　ever　to　being　called　the　baby；　Deselle　a　plump　twelve；　and　Adora　sixteen；　probably　ready　to　braid　her　hair。　Uncle　Eward；　his　da's　brother；　and　Aunt　Magde；　stout　and　looking　nearly　alike；　and　their　children。　Aunt　Neain；　who　visited　Uncle　Carlin's　grave　every　morning；　and　their　children；　and　Great　Aunt　Ealsin；　who　had　never　married；　with　her　sharp　nose　and　sharper　eye　for　discovering　what　everyone　for　miles　around　was　up　to。　Once　apprenticed　to　Master　Luhhan；　he　had　seen　them　only　on　feastdays；　the　distance　was　too　great　for　casual　travel；　and　there　had　always　been　work　to　do。　If　the　Whitecloaks　hunted　for　Aybaras；　they　were　easy　to　find。　They　were　his　responsibility；　not　this　Slayer。　He　could　only　do　so　much。　Protect　his　family；　and　Faile。　That　was　first。　Then　came　the　village；　and　the　wolves；　and　this　Slayer　last。　One　man　could　not　manage　everything。
　　　　　　　The　Westwood　grew　on　stony　soil　broken　by　bramble　covered　outcrops；　a　hard；　thickly　treed　land　with　few　farms　or　paths。　He　had　wandered　these　heavy　woods　as　a　boy；　alone　or　with　Rand　and　Mat；　hunting　with　bow　or　sling；　setting　snares　for　rabbits　or　simply　roaming　for　the　sake　of　roaming。　Bushy…tailed　squirrels　chittering　in　the　trees；　speckled　thrushes　warbling　on　branches　imitated　by　black…winged　mockers；　bluebacked　quail　bursting　up　out　of　the　brush　in　front　of　the　travelers　…　all　spoke　to　him　of　home。　The　very　smell　of　the　dirt　the　horses'　hooves　turned　was　a　recognition。
　　　　　　　He　could　have　headed　straight　for　Emond's　Field；　but　instead　he　angled　more　northward　through　the　forest；　finally　crossing　the　wide；　rough　track　called　the　Quarry　Road　as　the　sun　slanted　down　toward　the　treetops。　Why　〃quarry〃　no　one　in　the　Two　Rivers　knew；　and　it　scarcely　looked　a　road　at　all；　only　a　weedy　stretch　that　you　did　not　even　notice　was　bare　of　trees　until　you　saw　the　overgrown　ruts　from　generations　of　wagons　and　carts。　Sometimes　shards　of　old　pavement　worked　their　way　to　the　surface。　Perhaps　it　had　led　to　a　quarry　for　Manetheren。
　　　　　　　The　farm　Perrin　sought　lay　not　far　from　the　road；　beyond　rows　of　apple　and　pear　trees　where　fruit　was　setting。　He　smelled　the　farm　before　he　saw　it。　The　smell　of　char；　not　new；　yet　a　full　year　would　not　soften　that　smell。
　　　　　　　He　reined　in　at　the　edge　of　the　trees　and　sat　staring　before　he　made　himself　ride　into　what　had　been　the　al'Thor　farm；　the　packhorse　trailing　behind　his　dun。　Only　the　stone　walled　sheep　pen　still　stood；　railed　gate　open　and　hanging　by　one　hinge。　The　soot…blackened　chimney　cast　a　slanting　shadow　across　the　tumbled　burned　beams　of　the　farmhouse。　The　barn　and　the　tabac…curing　shed　were　only　ashes。　Weeds　choked　the　tabac　field　and　the　vegetable　garden；　and　the　garden　had　a　trampled　look；　most　of　what　was　not　sawleaf　or　feathertop　lay　broken　and　brown。
　　　　　　　He　did　not　even　think　of　nocking　an　arrow。　The　fire　was　weeks　old；　the　burned　wood　slicked　and　dulled　by　past　rains。　Chokevine　needed　nearly　a　month　to　grow　that　tall。　It　had　even　enveloped　the　plow　and　harrow　lying　beside　the　field；　rust　showed　under　the　pale；　narrow　leaves。
　　　　　　　The　Aiel　searched　carefully；　though；　spears　ready　and　eyes　wary；　quartering　the　ground　and　poking　through　the　ashes。　When　Bain　clambered　out　of　the　ruins　of　the　house；　she　looked　at　Perrin　and　shook　her　head。　At　least　Tam　al'Thor　had　not　died　in　there。
　　　　　　　They　know。　They　know；　Rand。　You　should　have　e。　It　was　very　nearly　more　than　he　could　do　to　stop　from　putting　Stepper　to　a　gallop；　keeping　him　there　all　the　way　to　his　family's　farm。　Trying　to；　at　least；　even　Stepper　would　fall　dead　before　he　ran　that　far。　Maybe　this　was　Trolloc　work。　If　it　was　Trollocs；　maybe　his　family　was　still　working　their　farm；　still　safe。　He　drew　a　deep　breath；　but　the　char　obliterated　any　other　smell。
　　　　　　　Gaul　stopped　beside　him。　〃Whoever　did　this　is　long　gone。　They　killed　some　of　the　sheep　and　scattered　the　rest。　Someone　came　later　to　gather　the　flock　and　drive　it　off　north。　Two　men；　I　think；　but　the　tracks　are　too　old　to　be　sure。〃
　　　　　　　〃Is　there　any　clue　to　who　did　it？〃　Gaul　shook　his　head。　It　could　have　been　Trollocs。　Strange；　to　wish　for　a　thing　like　that。　And　foolish。　The　Whitecloaks　knew　his　name；　and　they　knew　Rand's　as　well；　it　seemed。　They　know　my　name。　He　looked　at　the　ashes　of　the　al'Thor　farmhouse；　and　Stepper　moved　as　the　reins　trembled　in　his　hands。
　　　　　　　Loial　had　dismounted　at　the　edge　of　the　fruit　trees；　but　his　head　was　still　in　the　branches。　Faile　rode　toward　Perrin；　studying　his　face；　her　mare　stepping　delicately。　〃Is　this。。。　？　Do　you　know　the　people　who　lived　here？〃
　　　　　　　〃Rand　and　his　father。〃
　　　　　　　〃Oh。　I　thought　it　might　be。。。〃　The　relief　and　sympathy　in　her　voice　were　enough　to　finish　the　sentence。　〃Does　your　family　live　near？〃
　　　　　　　〃No；〃　he　said　curtly；　and　she　recoiled　as　if　slapped。　But　she　still　watched　him；　waiting。　What　did　he　have　to　do　to　drive　her　away？　More　than　he　could　bring　himself　to；　if　he　had　not　managed　it　already。
　　　　　　　The　shadows　were　growing　longer；　the　sun　sitting　on　the　treetops。　He　reined　Stepper　around；　rudely　turning　his　back　on　her。　〃Gaul；　we　will　have　to　camp　close　by　tonight。　I　want　to　start　early　in　the　morning。〃　He　sneaked　a　glance　over　his　shoulder；　Faile　was　riding　back　to　Loial；　sitting　stiff　in　her　saddle。　〃In　Emond's　Field；　they　will　know。。。〃　Where　the　Whitecloaks　were；　so　he　could　turn　himself　in　before　they　hurt　his　family。　If　his　family　was　all　right。　If　the　farm　where　he　had　been　born　was　not　already　like　this。　No。　He　had　to　be　in　time　to　stop　that。　〃They'll　know　how　things　are。〃
　　　　　　　〃Early；　then。〃　Gaul　hesitated。　〃You　will　not　drive　her　off。　That　one　is　almost　Far　Dareis　Mai；　and　if　a　Maiden　loves　you；　you　cannot　escape　her　however　hard　you　run。〃
　　　　　　　〃You　let　me　worry　about　Faile。〃　He　softened　his　voice；　it　was　not　Gaul　he　wanted　to　be　rid　of。　〃Very　early。　While　Faile　is　still　asleep。〃
　　　　　　　Both　camps；　beneath　the　apple　trees；　were　quiet　that　night。　Several　times　one　or　the　other　of　the　Aid　women　stood；　staring　toward　the　small　fire　where　he　and　Gaul　sat；　but　an　owl　hooting　and　the　horses　stamping　were　the　only　sounds。　Perrin　could　not　sleep；　and　it　was　still　an　hour　short　of　first　light；　with　the　full　moon　setting；　when　he　and　Gaul　slipped　away；　the　Aiel　silent　in　his　soft　boots　and　the　horses'　hooves　making　little　more　noise。　Bain；　or　maybe　Chiad；　watched　them　go。　He　could　not　tell　which；　but　she　did　not　wake　Faile；　and　he　was　grateful。
　　　　　　　The　sun　had　climbed　well　up　by　the　time　they　came　out　of　the　Westwood　a　little　below　the　village；　amid　cart　tracks　and　paths；　most　bordered　by　hedges　or　low　rough　stone　walls。　Smoke　made　feathery　gray　plumes　above　farmhouse　chimneys；　goodwives　doing　the　morning's　baking；　by　the　smell。　Men　dotted　the　fields　of　tabac　or　barley；　and　boys　watched　flocks　of　black…faced　sheep　in　the　pastures。　Some　people　took　note　of　their　passing；　but　Perrin　kept　Stepper　at　a　fast　walk　and　hoped　none　were　close　enough　to　recognize　him　or　wonder　at　the　strangeness　of　Gaul's　clothes；　or　his　spears。
　　　　　　　People　would　be　out　and　about　in　Emond's　Field；　too；　so　he　circled　around　to　the　east；　wide　of　the　village；　wide　of　the　hard　packed　dirt　streets　and　thatched　roofs　clustered　around　the　Green；　where　the　Winespring　itself　gushed　from　a　stone　outcrop　with　enough　force　to　knock　a　man　down　and　gave　birth　to　the　Winespring　Water。　The　damage　he　remembered　from　Winternight　a　year　gone；　the　burned　houses　and　charred　roofs；　were　all　rebuilt　and　repaired。　The　Trollocs　might　as　well　never　have　e　back　then。　He　prayed　no　one　would　have　to　live　through　that　again。　The　Wi