rj.acrownofswords-第198章

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　　　Rand　stared　at　the　crown　on　its　cushion；　not　moving　a　muscle。　People　had　thought　he　meant　to　make　himself　a　king　in　Tear；　feared　he　would　in　Cairhien　and　Andor；　but　no　one　had　offered　him　a　crown　before。　〃Why？　Is　Mattin　Stepaneos　so　willing　to　give　up　his　throne？〃
　　　〃King　Mattin　did　disappear　two　days　ago；〃　Gregorin　said。　〃Some　of　us　do　fear。。。　We　do　fear　Lord　Brend　may　have　something　to　with　it。　Brend　does　have。。。　〃　He　stopped　to　swallow。　〃Brend　did　have　a　great　deal　of　influence　with　the　king；　some　might　say　too　much；　but　he　did　be　distracted　in　recent　months；　and　Mattin　had　begun　to　reassert　himself。〃
　　　Strips　of　grimy　coatsleeve　and　pieces　of　shirtsleeve　dangled　as　Rand　reached　to　pick　up　the　Laurel　Crown。　The　Dragon　wound　around　his　forearm　glittered　in　the　lamplight　as　brightly　as　the　golden　crown。　He　turned　it　in　his　hands。　〃You　still　haven't　said　why。　Because　I　conquered　you？〃　He　had　conquered　Tear；　and　Cairhien　too；　but　some　turned　on　him　in　both　lands　still。　Yet　it　seemed　to　be　the　only　way。
　　　〃That　do　be　part；〃　Gregorin　said　dryly。　〃Even　so；　we　might　have　chosen　one　of　our　own；　kings　have　e　from　the　Council　before。　But　the　grain　you　did　order　sent　from　Tear　has　your　name　on　every　lip　with　the　Light。　Without　that；　many　would　be　dead　of　starvation。　Brend　did　see　every　stick　of　bread　go　to　the　army。〃
　　　Rand　blinked；　and　snatched　one　hand　from　the　crown　to　suck　on　a　pricked　finger。　Almost　buried　among　the　laurel　leaves　of　the　crown　were　the　sharp　points　of　swords。　How　long　ago　had　he　manded　the　Tairens　to　sell　grain　to　their　ancient　enemy；　sell　it　or　die　for　refusing？　He　had　not　realized　they　kept　on　after　he　began　preparations　to　invade　Illian。　Maybe　they　feared　to　bring　it　up；　but　they　had　feared　to　stop；　too。　Maybe　he　had　earned　some　right　to　this　crown。
　　　Gingerly　he　set　the　circle　of　laurel　leaves　on　his　head。　Half　those　swords　pointed　up；　half　down。　No　head　would　wear　this　crown　casually　or　easily。
　　　Gregorin　bowed　smoothly。　〃The　Light　illumine　Rand　al'Thor；　King　of　Illian；〃　he　intoned；　and　the　seven　other　lords　bowed　with　him；　murmuring；　〃The　Light　illumine　Rand　al'Thor；　King　of　Illian。〃
　　　Bashere　contented　himself　with　a　bow　of　his　head　…　he　was　uncle　to　a　queen；　after　all　…　but　Dashiva　cried　out；　〃All　hail　Rand　al'Thor；　King　of　the　World！〃　Flinn　and　the　other　Asha'man　took　it　up。
　　　〃All　hail　Rand　al'Thor；　King　of　the　World！〃
　　　〃All　hail　the　King　of　the　World！〃
　　　That　had　a　good　sound　to　it。
　　　
　　　The　story　spread　as　stories　will；　and　changed　as　stories　change　with　time　and　distance；　spreading　out　from　Illian　by　coasting　ships；　and　merchant　trains　of　wagons；　and　pigeons　sent　in　secret；　spreading　in　ripples　that　danced　with　other　ripples　and　made　new。　An　army　had　e　to　Illian；　the　stories　said；　an　army　of　Aiel；　of　Aes　Sedai　appearing　from　thin　air；　of　men　who　could　channel　riding　winged　beasts；　even　an　army　of　Saldaeans；　though　not　many　believed　that　one。　Some　tales　said　the　Dragon　Reborn　had　been　presented　the　Laurel　Crown　of　Illian　by　the　Council　of　Nine；　and　others　by　Martin　Stepaneos　himself　on　bended　knee。　Some　said　the　Dragon　Reborn　had　wrenched　the　crown　from　Martin's　head；　then　stuck　that　head　on　a　spike。　No；　the　Dragon　Reborn　had　razed　Illian　to　the　ground　and　buried　the　old　king　in　the　rubble。　No；　he　and　his　army　of　Asha'man　had　burned　Illian　out　of　the　earth。　No；　it　was　Ebou　Dar　he　had　destroyed；　after　Illian。
　　　One　fact；　though；　turned　up　again　and　again　in　those　tales。　The　Laurel　Crown　of　Illian　had　been　given　a　new　name。　The　Crown　of　Swords。
　　　And　for　some　reason；　men　and　women　who　told　the　tales　often　found　a　need　to　add　almost　identical　words。　The　storm　is　ing；　they　said；　staring　southward　in　worry。　The　storm　is　ing。
　　　
　　　
　　　Master　of　the　lightnings；　rider　on　the　storm；　wearer　of　a　crown　of　swords；　spinner…out　of　fate。　Who　thinks　he　turns　the　Wheel　of　Time；　may　learn　the　truth　too　late。

…　From　a　fragmentary　translation　of　The　Prophecies
of　the　Dragon；　attributed　to　Lord　Mangore　Kiramin；
Sword…bard　of　Aramaelle　and　Warder　to
Caraighan　Maconar；　into　what　was　then　called
the　vulgar　tongue　（circa　300　AB）。

The　End
of　the　Seventh　Book　of
The　Wheel　of　Time