rj.theshadowrising-第168部分

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ing　to　listen　to　reason　now。　His　legs　quivered　with　shock；　but　he　made　his　voice　as　firm　as　he　could。　〃Even　if　you　can　influence　Amathera　…〃
　　　　　　　She　cut　him　off。　〃I　told　you　not　to　question；　Jaichim。　A　good　dog　obeys　his　mistress；　yes？　I　promise　you；　if　you　do　not　you　will　beg　me　to　find　a　Myrddraal　to　play　with　you。　Do　you　understand　me？〃
　　　　　　　〃I　understand；〃　he　said　leadenly。　She　continued　to　stare；　and　after　a　moment　he　did　understand。　〃I　will　do　as　you　say。。。　mistress。〃　Her　brief；　approving　smile　made　him　flush。　She　moved　toward　the　door；　turning　her　back　on　him　as　if　he　really　were　a　dog；　and　a　toothless　one。　〃What。。。　？　What　is　your　name？〃
　　　　　　　Her　smile　was　sweet　this　time；　and　mocking。　〃Yes。　A　dog　should　know　his　mistress's　name。　I　am　called　Liandrin。　But　that　name　must　never　touch　a　dog's　lips。　Should　it；　I　will　be　most　displeased　with　you。〃
　　　　　　　When　the　door　closed　behind　her；　he　staggered　to　a　high…backed　chair　inlaid　with　ivory　and　fell　into　it。　The　brandy　he　left　where　it　was；　the　way　his　stomach　was　twisting；　it　would　make　him　vomit。　What　interest　could　she　possibly　have　in　the　Panarch's　Palace？　A　dangerous　line　of　questioning；　perhaps；　but　even　if　they　served　the　same　master　he　could　not　feel　anything　but　revulsion　for　a　Tar　Valon　witch。
　　　　　　　She　did　not　know　as　much　as　she　thought。　With　the　King's　sureties　in　hand；　he　could　keep　Tamrin　and　the　army　away　from　his　throat　with　the　threat　of　revelation；　and　Amathera；　too。　They　could　still　rouse　the　mob；　though。　And　the　Lord　Captain　mander　might　be　more　than　disapproving　of　the　entire　affair；　might　believe　he　was　reaching　for　personal　power。　Carridin　dropped　his　head　in　his　hands；　envisioning　Niall　signing　his　death　warrant。　His　own　men　would　arrest　him；　and　hang　him。　If　he　could　arrange　the　death　of　the　witch。。。　But　she　had　promised　to　protect　him　from　the　Myrddraal。　He　wanted　to　weep　again。　She　was　not　even　here；　yet　she　had　him　trapped　as　tightly　as　ever；　steel　jaws　clamped　on　both　legs　and　a　noose　snug　around　his　neck。
　　　　　　　There　had　to　be　a　way　out；　but　every　way　he　looked　there　was　only　another　trap。　
　　　　　　　Liandrin　ghosted　through　the　halls；　easily　avoiding　servants　and　Whitecloaks。　When　she　stepped　out　of　a　small　back　door　into　a　narrow　alley　behind　the　palace；　the　tall　young　guard　there　stared　at　her　with　a　blend　of　relief　and　unease。　Her　little　trick　of　opening　someone　to　her　suggestions　…　just　a　whip…crack　trickle　of　the　Power　…　had　not　been　needed　with　Carridin；　but　it　had　easily　convinced　this　fool　that　she　should　be　allowed　in。　Smiling；　she　motioned　him　to　bend　closer。　The　lanky　lout　grinned　as　if　expecting　a　kiss；　a　grin　that　froze　as　her　narrow　blade　went　through　his　eye。
　　　　　　　She　leaped　nimbly　back　as　he　fell；　a　boneless　sack　of　flesh。　He　would　not　speak　of　her　even　by　accident　now。　Not　so　much　as　a　spot　of　blood　stained　her　hand。　She　wished　she　had　Chesmal's　skill　at　killing　with　the　Power；　or　even　Rianna's　lesser　talent。　Strange　that　the　ability　to　kill　with　the　Power；　to　stop　a　heart　or　boil　blood　in　the　veins；　should　be　so　closely　linked　to　Healing。　She　herself　could　not　Heal　much　more　than　scrapes　or　bruises；　not　that　she　had　any　interest　in　it。
　　　　　　　Her　sedan　chair；　red…lacquered　and　inlaid　with　ivory　and　gold；　was　waiting　at　the　end　of　the　alley；　and　with　it　her　bodyguards；　a　dozen　big　men　with　faces　like　starving　wolves。　Once　in　the　streets；　they　cleared　a　path　through　the　crowds　with　ease；　spears　clubbing　any　not　quick　enough　to　move　aside。　They　were　all　dedicated　to　the　Great　Lord　of　the　Dark；　of　course；　and　if　they　did　not　know　exactly　who　she　was；　they　knew　that　other　men　had　disappeared；　men　who　failed　to　serve　properly。
　　　　　　　The　house　she　and　the　others　had　taken；　two　sprawling　stories　of　flat…roofed　stone　and　white　plaster　on　a　hillside　at　the　base　of　the　Verana；　Tanchico's　easternmost　peninsula；　belonged　to　a　merchant　who　had　also　sworn　his　oaths　to　the　Great　Lord。　Liandrin　would　have　preferred　a　palace　…　one　day　perhaps　she　would　have　the　King's　Palace　on　the　Maseta；　she　had　grown　up　staring　enviously　at　the　Lords'　palaces；　but　why　should　she　settle　for　one　of　them？　…　yet　despite　her　preferences；　it　made　sense　to　stay　hidden　awhile　yet。　There　was　no　way　the　fools　in　Tar　Valon　could　suspect　they　were　in　Tarabon；　but　the　Tower　was　surely　still　hunting　them；　and　Siuan　Sanche's　pets　could　be　sniffing　anywhere。
　　　　　　　Gates　gave　onto　a　small　courtyard；　windowless　except　on　the　upper　floor。　Leaving　the　guards　and　bearers　there；　she　hurried　inside。　The　merchant　had　furnished　a　few　servants；　all　sworn　to　the　Great　Lord；　he　assured　them；　but　barely　enough　to　provide　for　eleven　women　who　rarely　stirred　outside。　One；　a　sturdily　handsome；　dark…braided　woman　called　Gyldin；　was　sweeping　the　entry　hall's　red　and　white　tiles　when　Liandrin　entered。
　　　　　　　〃Where　are　the　others？〃　she　demanded。
　　　　　　　〃In　the　front　withdrawing　room。〃　Gyldin　gestured　to　the　double…arched　doors　to　the　right　as　though　Liandrin　might　not　know　where　that　was。
　　　　　　　Liandrin's　mouth　tightened。　The　woman　did　not　curtsy；　she　used　no　titles　of　respect。　True；　she　did　not　know　who　Liandrin　really　was；　but　Gyldin　certainly　knew　she　was　high　enough　to　give　orders　and　be　obeyed；　to　send　that　fat　merchant　bowing　and　scraping　and　bundling　his　family　off　to　some　hovel。　〃You　are　supposed　to　be　cleaning；　yes？　Not　standing　about？　Well；　clean！　There　is　dust　everywhere。　If　I　find　a　speck　of　the　dust　this　evening；　you　cow　you；　I　will　have　you　beaten！〃　She　clamped　her　teeth　shut。　She　had　copied　the　manner　in　which　nobles　and　the　wealthy　spoke　for　so　long　that　sometimes　she　forgot　her　father　had　sold　fruit　from　a　barrow；　yet　in　one　moment　of　anger　the　speech　of　a　moner　rolled　off　her　tongue。　Too　much　stress。　Too　much　waiting。　With　a　last；　snapped；　〃Work！〃　she　pushed　into　the　withdrawing　room　and　slammed　the　door　behind　her。
　　　　　　　The　others　were　not　all　there；　which　irritated　her　even　more；　but　enough。　Round…faced　Eldrith　Jhondar；　seated　at　a　lapis…inlaid　table　beneath　a　hanging　on　one　white…plastered　wall；　was　making　careful　notes　from　a　tattered　manuscript；　sometimes　she　absently　cleaned　the　nib　of　her　pen　on　the　sleeve　of　her　dark　wool　dress。　Marillin　Gemalphin　sat　beside　one　of　the　narrow　windows；　blue　eyes　dreamily　staring　out　at　the　tiny　fountain　tinkling　in　a　little　courtyard；　idly　scratching　the　ears　of　a　scrawny　yellow　cat　and　apparently　unaware　of　the　hairs　it　shed　all　over　er　green　silk　dress。　She　and　Eldrith　were　both　Browns；　but　if　Marillin　ever　found　out　that　Eldrith　was　the　reason　the　stray　cats　she　brought　in　continually　disappeared；　there　would　be　trouble。
　　　　　　　They　had　been　Browns。　Sometimes　it　was　difficult　to　remember　they　no　longer　were；　or　that　she　herself　was　no　longer　a　Red。　So　much　of　what　had　marked　them　clearly　as　members　of　their　old　Ajahs　remained　even　now　that　they　were　openly　pledged　to　the　Black。　Take　the　two　former　Greens。　Coppery…skinned；　swan…necked　Jeaine　Caide　wore　the　thinnest；　most　clinging　silk　dresses　she　could　find　…　white；　today　…　and　laughed　that　the　gowns　would　have　to　do；　since　there　was　nothing　available　in　Tarabon　to　catch　a　man's　eye。　Jeaine　was　from　Arad　Doman；　Domani　women　were　infamous　for　their　scandalous　clothes。　Asne　Zeramene；　with　her　dark；　tilted　eyes　and　bold　nose；　looked　almost　demure　in　pale　gray；　plainly　cut　and　high…necked；　but　Liandrin　had　heard　her　regret　leaving　her　Warders　behind　more　than　once。　And　as　for　Rianna　Andomeran。。。　Black　hair　with　a　stark　white　streak　above　her　left　ear　framed　a　face　with　the　cold；　arrogant　certainty　only　a　White　could　assume。
　　　　　　　〃It　is　done；〃　Liandrin　announced。　〃Jaichim　Carridin　will　move　his　Whitecloaks　to　the　Panarch's　Palace　and　hold　it　for　us。　He　does　not　yet　know　we　will　have　guests。。。　of　course。〃　There　were　a　few　grimaces；　changing　Ajahs　had　certainly　not　altered　anyone's　feelings　toward　men　who　hated　women　who　could　channel。　〃There　is　an　interesting　thing。　He　believed　I　was　there　to　kill　him。　For　failing　to　kill　Rand　al'Thor。〃
　　　　　　　〃That　makes　no　sense；〃　Asne　said；　frowning。　〃We　are　to　bind　him；　control　him；　not　kill　him。〃　She　laughed　suddenly；　soft　and　low；　and　leaned　back　in　her　chair。　〃If　there　is　a　way　to　control　him；　I　would　not　mind　binding　him　t