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！
er choice。 Though the woman did have odd； unsound notions on several points of logic。 〃Moghedien has forgotten us； Ispan。 Or have you received some private word from her？ In any case； I am convinced this cache does not exist。〃
〃Moghedien； she says that it does。〃 Ispan began firmly； but her voice quickly grew warm。 〃A store of angreal； and sa'angreal； and ter'angreal。 We will have some part of them。 angreal of our very own； Falion。 Perhaps even sa'angreal。 She has promised。〃
〃Moghedien was wrong。〃 Falion watched shock widen the other woman's eyes。 The Chosen were only people。
Learning that lesson had stunned Falion too； but some refused to learn。 The Chosen were vastly stronger； infinitely more knowledgeable； and quite possibly they had already received the reward of immortality； but by all evidence they schemed and fought each other as hard as two Murandians with one blanket。
Ispan's shock quickly gave way to anger。 〃There are others looking。 Would they all look for nothing？ There are Friends of the Dark looking； they must have been sent by others of the Chosen。 If the Chosen look； can you still say there is nothing？〃 She would not see。 If a thing could not be found； the most obvious reason was that it was not there。
Falion waited。 Ispan was not stupid； only awestruck； and Falion did believe in making people teach themselves what they should already be aware of。 Lazy minds needed to be exercised。
Ispan paced； swishing her skirts and frowning at the dust and old cobwebs。 〃This place smells。 And it is filthy！〃 She shuddered as a large black cockroach went skittering up the wall。 The glow surrounded her for a moment； a flow squashed the beetle with a popping sound。 Making a face； Ispan wiped her hands on her skirts as if she had used them instead of the Power。 She had a delicate stomach； though fortunately not when she could remove herself from the actual deed。 〃I will not report the failure to one of the Chosen； Falion。 She would make us envy Liandrin； yes？〃
Falion did not quite shiver。 She did； however； cross the basement and pour herself a cup of plum punch。 The plums had been old； and the punch was too sweet； but her hands remained steady。 Fear of Moghedien was perfectly sensible； but yielding to fear was not。 Perhaps the woman was dead。 Surely she would have summoned them by now else； or snatched them sleeping into Tel'aran'rhiod again to tell her why they had not yet carried out her mands。 Until she saw a body； though； the only logical choice was to continue as if Moghedien would appear any moment。 〃There is a way。〃
〃How？ Put every Wise Woman in Ebou Dar to the question？ How many are there？ A hundred？ Two hundred perhaps？ The sisters in the Tarasin Palace； they would notice this； I think。〃
〃Forget your dreams of owning a sa'angreal； Ispan。 There is no long…hidden storehouse； no secret basement beneath a palace。〃 Falion spoke in cool； measured tones； perhaps more measured the more agitated Ispan became。 She had always enjoyed mesmerizing a class of novices with the sound of her voice。 〃Almost all of the Wise Women are wilders； highly unlikely to know what we wish to learn。 No wilder has ever been found keeping an angreal； much less a sa'angreal； and they surely would have been found。 On the contrary； by every record； a wilder who discovers any object tied to the Power rids herself of it as soon as possible； for fear of attracting the wrath of the White Tower。 Women who are put out of the Tower； on the other hand； seem not to have the same fear。 As you well know； when they are searched before leaving； fully one in three has secreted something about her person； an actual object of the Power or something she believes is one。 Of the few Wise Women who qualify at present； Callie was the perfect choice。 When she was put out four years ago； she tried to steal a small ter'angreal。 A useless thing that makes images of flowers and the sound of a waterfall； but still an object tied to saidar。 And she tried to discover all the other novices' secrets； succeeding more often than not。 If there was even a single angreal in Ebou Dar； not to speak of a vast storehouse； do you think she could have been four years here without locating it？〃
〃I do wear the shawl； Falion；〃 Ispan said with extraordinary asperity。 〃And I do know all of that as well as you。 You said there was another way。 What way？〃 She simply would not apply her brain。
〃What would please Moghedien as greatly as the cache？〃 Ispan simply stared at her； tapping her foot。 〃Nynaeve al'Meara； Ispan。 Moghedien abandoned us to go chasing after her； but obviously she escaped somehow。 If we give Nynaeve … and the Trakand girl； for that matter … to Moghedien； she would forgive us a hundred sa'angreal。〃 Which clearly demonstrated that the Chosen could be irrational； of course。 It was best； of course； to be extremely careful with those who were both irrational and more powerful than you。 Ispan was not more powerful。
〃We should have killed her as I wanted； when she first appeared；〃 she spat。 Waving her hands； she stalked up and down； grime crunching loudly beneath her slippers。 〃Yes； yes； I know。 Our sisters in the palace； they might have bee suspicious。 We do not wish to draw their eyes。 But have you forgotten Tanchico？ And Tear？ Where those two girls appear； disaster follows。 Me； I think if we cannot kill them； we should remain as far from Nynaeve al'Meara and Elayne Trakand as we can。 As far as we can！〃
〃Calm yourself； Ispan。 Calm yourself。〃 If anything； Falion's soothing tone only seemed to agitate the other woman more； but Falion was confident。 Logic must prevail over emotion。
Sitting on an upended barrel in the sparse coolness of a narrow； shaded alley； he studied the house across the busy street。 Suddenly he realized he was touching his head again。 He did not have a headache； but his head felt。。。 peculiar。。。 sometimes。 Most often when he thought of what he could not remember。
Three stories of white plaster； the house belonged to a goldsmith who supposedly was being visited by two friends she had met on a journey north some years ago。 The friends had only been glimpsed on arrival and not seen since。 Finding that out had been easy； finding out they were Aes Sedai only a trifle more difficult。
A lean young man in a torn vest； whistling his way down the street with no good on his mind； paused when he glimpsed him sitting on the barrel。 His coat and his location in the shadows … and the rest of him； he admitted ruefully … probably looked tempting。 He reached under his coat。 His hands no longer possessed the strength or flexibility for swordwork； but the two long knives he had carried for well over thirty years had surprised more than one swordsman。 Maybe something showed in his eyes； because the lean young man thought better of it and whistled his way on。
Beside the house； the gate that led back to the goldsmith's stable swung open； and two burly men appeared pushing a barrow piled high with soiled straw and muck。 What were they up to？ Arnin and Nad were hardly the lads to be mucking out stables。
He would stay here until dark； he decided； then see whether he could find Carridin's pretty little killer again。
Once again he pulled his hand down from his head。 Sooner or later； he would remember。 He did not have much time left； but it was all he did have。 He remembered that much。
Chapter 18
（Dragon）
As the Plow Breaks the Earth
Seizing saidin long enough to unknot the ward he had woven across one corner of the anteroom； Rand raised his small silver…mounted cup and said； 〃More tea。〃 Lews Therin muttered angrily in the back of his head。
Carved chairs heavy with gilt stood in paired lines to either side of a golden Rising Sun； two paces wide； set into the polished stone floor； and another tall chair so gilded it seemed entirely gold topped a small dais that was just as elaborate； but he sat cross…legged on a carpet spread for the occasion； green and gold and blue in a Tairen maze。 The three clan chiefs seated across from him would have disliked him receiving them from a chair even if they were offered their own。 They were another maze； to be trod warily。 He was in his shirt； sleeves pushed up his forearms to expose the red…and…gold Dragon that curled around each； glittering metallically。 The Aielmen's cadin'sor covered theirs； on the left arm alone。 Perhaps the reminder of who he was … that he too had been to Rhuidean when the journey meant death for most men who entered … perhaps it was unnecessary。 Perhaps。
Those three faces gave away little as they watched Merana e from the corner where she had been sealed off。 Janwin's creased face could have been carved from old wood； but it always looked that way； and if his blue…gray eyes seemed stormy； so did they always too。 Even his hair looked like storm clouds。 He was an even…tempered man； though。 Indirian and one…eyed Mandelain might have been thinking of something else； except that their unblinking gazes followed her。 Lews Therin suddenly went silent； as if he too watched； through Rand's eyes。
Merana's ageless features revealed even less than the clan chiefs'。 Smoothing