rj.acrownofswords-第81章
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e done better to bring another fifty soldiers instead。〃
Juilin strode though the crowd purposefully； a dark； hard man using a slender bamboo staff as tall as himself for a walking stick。 With a flat…topped conical red Taraboner cap on his head and a plain coat； tight to the waist then flaring to his boot tops； well…worn and plainly not the coat of someone rich； he normally would not have been allowed below the ropes； but he made out to study the horses and ostentatiously bounced a fat coin on his palm。 Several of the bookers' guards looked at him suspiciously； but the gold crown let him pass。
〃Well？〃 Mat said sourly； tugging his hat low； once the thief…catcher reached him。 〃No； let me tell you。 They slipped out of the palace again。 No one saw them go； again。 Nobody has any bloody idea where they are； again。〃
Juilin tucked the coin carefully into his coat pocket。 He would make no wager； he seemed to save every copper that came into his hands。 〃All four of them took a closed coach from the palace to a landing on the river； where they hired a boat。 Thom hired another to follow and see where they're going。 Nowhere dark or unpleasant； I'd say； by their clothes。 But it is true； nobles wear silk to crawl in the mud。〃 He grinned at Nalesean； who folded his arms and pretended to be engrossed in the horses。 The grin was a mere baring of teeth。 They were both Tairen； but the gap between noble and mon stood wide in Tear； and neither man liked the other's pany。
〃Women！〃 Several finely dressed specimens nearby turned to eye Mat askance from beneath bright parasols。 He frowned right back； though two were pretty； and they set to laughing and chattering among themselves as though he had done something amusing。 A woman would do a thing until you were sure she always would； then do something else just to fuddle you。 But he had promised Rand to see Elayne safely to Caemlyn； and Nynaeve and Egwene with her。 And he had promised Egwene to see the other two safe on this trip to Ebou Dar； not to mention Aviendha； that was the price of getting Elayne to Caemlyn。 Not that they had told him why they needed to be here； oh； no。 Not that they had spoken twenty words to him since arriving in the bloody city！
〃I'll see them safe；〃 he muttered under his bream； 〃if I have to stuff them into barrels and haul them to Caemlyn in a cart。〃 He might be the only man in the world who could say that about Aes Sedai without looking over his shoulder； maybe even including Rand and those fellows he was gathering。 He touched the foxhead medallion hanging under his shirt to make sure it was there； though he never took it off； even to bathe。 It did have flaws； but a man liked to be reminded。
〃Tarabon must be terrible now for a woman not used to taking care of herself；〃 Juilin murmured。 He was watching three veiled men in tattered coats and baggy once…white trousers scramble up the bank ahead of a pair of bookmen's guards waving their clubs。 No rule said the poor could not e below the ropes； but the bookers' guards did。 The two pretty women who had eyed Mat appeared to be making a private wager on whether the Taraboners would outrun the guards。
〃We've more than enough women right here without sense to e in out of the rain；〃 Mat told him。 〃Go back to that boat landing and wait for Thorn。 Tell him I need him as soon as possible。 I want to know what those fool bloody women are up to。〃
Juilin's look did not quite call him a fool。 They had； after all； been trying to find out exactly that for over a month now； ever since ing here。 With a last glance at the fleeing men； he sauntered back the way he had e； once more bouncing the coin in his hand。
Frowning； Mat peered across the racecourse。 It was barely fifty paces to the crowd on the other side； and faces leaped out at him … a bent； white…haired old man with a hooked nose； a sharp…faced woman under a hat that seemed mostly plumes； a tall fellow who looked like a stork in green silk and gold braid； a nicely plump； full…mouthed young woman who appeared about to e out of her dress at the top。 The longer the heat continued； the fewer and thinner garments women in Ebou Dar wore； but for once he hardly gave them any notice。 Weeks had gone by since he so much as glimpsed the women who concerned him now。
Birgitte certainly needed no one to hold her hand； a Hunter for the Horn； anyone who troubled her would be in a deep hole by his estimation。 And Aviendha。。。 All she needed was someone to keep her from stabbing everybody who looked at her crossways。 As far as he was concerned； she could knife whoever she wanted so long as it was not Elayne。 For all the bloody Daughter…Heir walked about with her nose in the air； she turned moon…eyed around Rand； and for all Aviendha behaved as if she would stab any man who glanced her way； she did the same。 Rand usually knew how to deal with women； but he had jumped into a bear pit letting that pair e together。 It was a short road to disaster； and why ruin had not happened was beyond Mat。
For some reason his eyes drifted back to the sharp…faced woman。 She was pretty； if vulpine。 About Nynaeve's age； he estimated； it was hard to tell at the distance； but he could judge women as well as he could horses。 Of course； women could fool you faster than any horse。 Slim。 Why did she make him think of straw？ What he could see of her hair beneath the plumed hat was dark。 No matter。
Birgitte and Aviendha could do without his shepherding； and normally he would have said the same of Elayne and Nynaeve； however wrongheaded； conceited and downright pushy they could be。 That they had been sneaking out all this time said differently； though。 Wrongheadedness was the key。 They were the sort who berated a man for meddling and chased him away； then berated him again for not being there when he was needed。 Not that they would admit he was needed； even then； not them。 Raise a hand to help and you were interfering； do nothing and you were an untrustworthy wastrel。
The fox…faced woman across the way popped into his view again。 Not straw； a stable。 Which made no more sense。 He had had fine times in stables with many a young woman and some not so young； but she wore modestly cut blue silk with a high neck right under her chin trimmed in snowy lace； and more spilling over her hands。 A lady； and he avoided noblewomen like death。 Playing haughty like a harp； expecting a man always to be at their beck and call。 Not Mat Cauthon。 Strangely； she was fanning herself with a spray of white plumes。 Where was her maid？ A knife。 Why should she make him think of a knife？ And。。。 fire？ Something burning； anyway。
Shaking his head； he tried to focus on what was important。 Other men's memories； of battles and courts and lands vanished centuries ago； filled holes in his own； places where his own life suddenly went thin or was not there at all。 He could remember fleeing the Two Rivers with Moiraine and Lan quite clearly for example； but almost nothing more until reaching Caemlyn； and there were gaps before and after； as well。 If whole years of his own growing up lay beyond recall； why should he expect to recollect every woman he had met？ Maybe she reminded him of some woman dead a thousand years or more； the Light knew that happened often enough。 Even Birgitte sometimes tickled his memory。 Well； there were four women here and now who had his brain tied in knots。 They were what was important。
Nynaeve and the others were avoiding him as if he had fleas。 Five times he had been to the palace； and the once they would see him； it was to say they were too busy for him and send him away like an errand boy。 It all added up to one thing。 They thought he would interfere with whatever they were up to； and the only reason he would do that was if they were putting themselves in danger。 They were not plete fools； idiots often； but not plete fools。 If they saw danger； there was danger。 Some places in this city； being a stranger or showing a coin could bring a knife in your ribs； and not even channeling would stop it if they did not see in time。 And here he was； with Nalesean and a dozen good men from the Band； not to mention Thom and Juilin； who actually had rooms in the servants
