rj.acrownofswords-第82章
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dozen good men from the Band； not to mention Thom and Juilin； who actually had rooms in the servants' quarters of the palace； all left to twiddle their thumbs。 Those thick…skulled women were going to get their throats cut yet。 〃Not if I can help it；〃 he growled。
〃What？〃 Nalesean said。 〃Look。 They're lining up； Mat。 The Light burn my soul； I hope you're right。 That piebald doesn't look half…crazed to me； he looks eager。〃
The horses were prancing； taking their places between tall poles stuck in the ground； with streamers tailing from the tops of them in a warm breeze； blue and green and every color； some striped。 Five hundred paces down the track of hard…beaten red clay an identical number of streamered poles made another row。 Each rider had to round the same…colored streamer as floated to his right at the start and then return。 A booker stood at either end of the line of horses； just to the front； a round woman and a rounder man； each with a white scarf held overhead。 The bookers took turns at this； and were not allowed to accept wagers on a race they started。
〃Burn me；〃 Nalesean muttered。
〃Light； man； be easy。 You'll tickle your seamstress under the chin yet。〃 A roar drowned the last word as the scarves came down； and the horses surged forward； even the sound of their hooves submerged in the noise of the crowd。 In ten strides Wind had the lead； Olver lying close on his neck； with the silver…maned dun only a head back。 The piebald trailed in the pack； where the riders' switches already rose and fell frantically。
〃I told you the dun was dangerous；〃 Nalesean moaned。 〃We shouldn't have wagered everything。〃
Mat did not bother to answer。 He had another purse in his pocket and loose coins besides。 He called the purse his seed； with that； with even a few of the coins in it； and a game of dice； he could repair his fortunes whatever happened this morning。 Halfway down the course； Wind still held the lead； the dun clinging close a full length ahead of the next horse。 The piebald was running fifth。 After the turn would e the hazard； boys on trailing animals were known to slash at those who rounded the stakes ahead of them。
Following the horses； Mat's eyes swept across the sharp…faced woman again。。。 and snapped back。 The shouts and screams of the crowd faded。 The woman was shaking her fan at the horses and jumping excitedly； but suddenly he saw her in pale green and a rich gray cloak； her hair caught in a frothy net of lace； skirts held up delicately as she picked her way across a stable not far from Caemlyn。
Rand still lay there moaning in the straw； even if the fever seemed gone； at least he was not shouting anymore at people who were not there。 Mat eyed the woman suspiciously as she knelt beside Rand。 Maybe she could help as she claimed； but Mat did not trust as he once had。 What was a fine lady like this doing in a village stable？ Caressing the ruby…tipped hilt of the dagger hidden by his coat； he wondered why he had ever trusted。 It never paid。 Never。
〃。。。 weak as a day…old kitten；〃 she was saying as she reached beneath her cloak。 〃I think。。。 〃
A knife appeared in her hand so suddenly； streaking for Mat's throat； that he would have been dead if he had not been ready。 Dropping flat； he seized her wrist； just pushing it away from him； the curved Shadar Logoth blade sweeping out to lie against her slim white neck。 The woman froze； trying to look down at the sharp edge dimpling her skin。 He wanted to slice。 Especially when he saw where her own dagger had stabbed into the stable wall。 Around the slim blade a black circle of char grew； and a thin gray tendril of smoke rose from wood about to burst into flame。
Shivering； Mat rubbed a hand across his eyes。 Just carrying that Shadar Logoth knife had nearly killed him； eating those holes in his memories； but how could he forget a woman who tried to kill him？ A Darkfriend … she had admitted as much … who tried to kill him with a dagger that set a bucket of water near boiling when they tossed it in after securing her in the tackroom。 A Darkfriend who had been hunting Rand and him。 What chance she was in Ebou Dar when he was； at the races on the same day？ Ta'veren might be the answer … he liked thinking of that about as much he did the Horn of bloody Valere … but the fact was； the Forsaken knew his name。 That stable had not been the last time Darkfriends tried putting an end to Mat Cauthon。
He staggered as Nalesean suddenly began pounding his back。 〃Look at him； Mat！ Light of heaven； look at him！〃
The horses had rounded the far poles and were well on their way back。 Head stretched out； mane and tail flying behind； Wind streaked down the course with Olver clinging to his back like a part of the saddle。 The boy rode as if he had been born there。 Four lengths behind； the piebald pounded furiously； rider working his switch in a futile effort to close。 Just like that they slashed across the finish line； with the next nearest horse another three lengths back。 The white…maned dun came last。 The moans and mutters of losing bettors overwhelmed the shouts of winners。 Losing tokens made a shower of white onto the track； and dozens of the bookers' servants rushed out to clear them away before the next race。
〃We have to find that woman； Mat。 I'd not put it past her to run off without paying out so much as she owes us。〃 From what Mat had heard； the bookers' guild was more than harsh the first time one of its members tried anything of the sort； and deadly the second； but they were moners； and that was enough for Nalesean。
〃She's standing right over there in plain view。〃 Mat gestured without taking his eyes from the fox…faced Darkfriend。 Glaring at a token； she hurled it to the ground； and even lifted her skirts to stamp on it。 Plainly not a wager on Wind。 Still grimacing； she began threading her way through the crowd。 Mat stiffened。 She was leaving。 〃Gather our winnings； Nalesean； then take Olver back to the inn。 If he misses his reading lesson； you'll kiss the Dark One's sister before Mistress Anan lets him out for another race。〃
〃Where are you going？〃
〃I saw a woman who tried to kill me；〃 Mat said over his shoulder。
〃Give her a trinket next time；〃 Nalesean shouted after him。
Following the woman was no trouble； with that white…plumed hat for a banner bobbing through the crowd on the other side。 The earthen banks gave way to a large open area where brightly lacquered coaches and sedan chairs waited under the watchful eyes of drivers and bearers。 Mat's horse Pips was one of scores being guarded by members of the Ancient and Worshipful Guild of Stablemen。 There was a guild for most things in Ebou Dar； and woe to anyone who trespassed on their ground。 He paused； but she walked on by the conveyances that had brought those with position or money。 No maid； and now not even a chair。 No one walked in this heat who had money to ride。 Had my Lady e on hard times？
The Silver Circuit lay just south of the tall white…plastered city wall； and she strolled up the hundred paces or so of road to the broad pointed arch of the Moldine Gate and in。 Trying to appear casual； Mat followed。 The gateway was ten spans of dim tunnel； but her hat stood out among the folk passing through。 People who had to walk seldom wore plumes。 She seemed to know where she was going on the other side。 The plumes wove through the crowds ahead of him； unhurried but always moving forward。
Ebou Dar shone white in the morning sun。 White palaces with white columns and screened wrought…iron balconies cheek…by…jowl with white…plastered weavers' shops and fishmongers and stables； great white houses with louvered shutters hiding their arched windows beside white inns with painted signs hanging in front and open markets under long roofs where live sheep and chickens； calves and geese and ducks made a barnyard din alongside their fellows already butchered and hanging。 All white； stone or plaster； except here and there bands of red or blue or gold on turnip…shaped domes and pointed spires that had balconies running around them。 There were squares everywhere； always with a statue larger than life on a pedestal or a splashing founta
