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！
〃I couldn't。。。 speak out。。。 against Galina's decision。 She led。。。 by the Amyrlin's mand。〃 Beldeine shifted again； weakly。 Her voice was still dreamy； but it picked up an agitated edge。 Her eyelids fluttered。 〃He had to。。。 be made。。。 to obey！ He had to be！ Shouldn't have been。。。 treated so harshly。 Like putting。。。 him to。。。 question。 Wrong。〃
Verin snorted。 Wrong？ Disastrous was more like it。 A disaster from the first。 Now the man looked at any Aes Sedai almost the way Aeron did。 And if they had succeeded in carrying him to Tar Valon？ A ta'veren like Rand al'Thor actually inside the White Tower？ A thought to make a stone tremble。 However it had turned out； disaster would surely have been too mild a word。 The price paid at Dumai's Wells was small enough； for avoiding that。
She went on asking questions in a tone that could be heard clearly by anyone listening outside。 Asking questions she already had answers for； and avoiding those too dangerous to be answered。 She paid little heed to the words ing out of her mouth or to Beldeine's replies。 Mainly she concentrated on her weaving。
A great many things had captured her interest over the years； not all strictly approved of by the Tower。 Almost every wilder who came to the White Tower for training … both true wilders； who really had begun teaching themselves； and girls who merely had started touching the Source because the spark born in them had quickened on its own； for some sisters； there was no real difference … nearly every one of those wilders had created at least one trick for herself； and those tricks almost invariably fell under one of two headings。 A way to listen in on other people's conversations or a way of making people do as they wanted。
The first； the Tower did not care much about。 Even a wilder who had gained considerable control on her own quickly learned that as long as she wore novice white； she was not to so much as touch saidar without a sister or one of the Accepted standing over her。 Which did tend to limit eavesdropping rather sharply。 The other trick； however； smelled too akin to forbidden pulsion。 Oh； it was just a way to make Father give her dresses or trinkets he did not want to buy； or make Mother approve of young men she ordinarily ran off； things of that nature； but the Tower rooted the trick out most effectively。 Many of the girls and women Verin had spoken to over the years could not make themselves form the weaves； much less use them； and a fair number could not even make themselves remember how。 From bits and pieces and scraps of half…remembered weaves created by untrained girls for very limited purposes； Verin had reconstructed a thing forbidden by the Tower since its founding。 In the beginning it had been simple curiosity on her part。 Curiosity； she thought wryly； working at the weave on Beldeine； has made me climb into more than one pickling kettle。 Usefulness came later。
〃I suppose Elaida meant to keep him down in the open cells；〃 she said conversationally。 The grill…walled cells were intended for men who could channel； as well as initiates of the Tower under close arrest； wilders who had claimed to be Aes Sedai； and anyone else who must be both confined and blocked off from the Source。 〃Not a fortable place for the Dragon Reborn。 No privacy。 Do you believe he is the Dragon Reborn； Beldeine？〃 This time she paused to listen。
〃Yes。〃 The word was a long hiss； and Beldeine rolled frightened eyes toward Verin's face。 〃Yes。。。 but he must。。。 be kept。。。 safe。 The world。。。 must be。。。 safe。。。 from him。〃
Interesting。 They had all said the world had to be kept safe from him； what was interesting was those who thought he needed protection； too。 Some who had said that； surprised her。
To Verin's eyes； the weave she had made resembled nothing so much as a haphazard tangle of faintly glowing transparent threads all bundled around Beldeine's head； with four threads of Spirit trailing out of the mess。 Two of those； opposite one another； she pulled； and the tangle collapsed slightly； falling inward； into something on the edge of order。 Beldeine's eyes shot open wide； staring into the far distance。
In a firm； low voice； Verin gave her instructions。 More like suggestions； though she phrased them as mands。 Beldeine would have to find reasons within herself to obey； if she did not； then all this had been so much wasted effort。
With the final words； Verin pulled the other two threads of Spirit； and the tangle collapsed further。 This time； though； it fell into what seemed perfect order； a pattern more precise； more plicated than the most intricate lace； and plete； tied off by the same action that began its shrinking。 This time； it continued to fall inward on itself； inward around Beldeine's head。 Those faintly glowing threads sank into her； vanished。 Her eyes rolled back in her head； and she began to thrash； limbs quivering。 Verin held her as gently as she could； but Beldeine's head still whipped from side to side； and her bare heels drummed on the carpets。 Soon； only the most careful Delving would tell that anything had been done； and not even that would identify the weave。 Verin had tested that carefully； and if she did say so herself； none surpassed her at Delving。
Of course the thing was not truly pulsion as ancient texts described it。 The weaving went with painful slowness； cobbled together as it was； and there was that need for a reason。 It helped a great deal if the object of the weave was emotionally vulnerable； but trust was absolutely essential。 Even catching someone by surprise did no good if they were suspicious。 That fact cut down its usefulness with men considerably； very few men lacked suspicion around Aes Sedai。
Distrust aside； men were very bad subjects； unfortunately。 She could not understand why。 Most of those girls' weaves had been intended for their fathers or other men。 Any strong personality might begin to question his own actions … or even forget doing them； which led to another set of problems … but all things being equal； men were much more likely to。 Much more likely。 Perhaps it was the suspicion again。 Why； once a man had even remembered the weaves being woven on him； if not the instructions she had given him。 Such a lot of bother that caused！ Not something she would risk again。
At last Beldeine's convulsions lessened； stopped。 She raised a filthy hand to her head。 〃What …？ What happened？〃 she said； almost inaudibly。 〃Did I faint？〃 Forgetfulness was another good point about the weave； not unexpectedly。 After all； Father must not remember that you somehow made him buy that expensive dress。
〃The heat is very bad；〃 Verin said； helping her to sit up again。 〃I have felt light…headed myself once or twice today。〃 From weariness； not heat。 Handling that much of saidar took it out of you； especially when you had already done it four times today。 The angreal did nothing to buffer the effects once you stopped using it。 She could have used a steadying hand herself。 〃I think that's about enough。 If you're fainting； perhaps they'll find something for you to do out of the sun。〃 The prospect did not seem to cheer Beldeine at all。
Rubbing the small of her back； Verin stuck her head out of the tent。 Coram and Mendan stopped their game of cat's cradle once more； there was no sign that either had listened； but she would not wager her life on it。 She told them that she was finished with Beldeine and； after a moment's thought； added that she needed another pitcher of water since Beldeine had overturned hers。 Both men's faces darkened beneath their tans。 That would be passed along to the Wise One who came for Beldeine。 It would serve as something more to help her reach her decision。
The sun still had a long way to fall to the horizon； but the ache in her back told her it was time to stop for the day。 She could still do one more sister； but if she did； by morning she would feel it in every muscle。 Her eyes fell on Irgain； now with the women carrying baskets to the handmills。 How would her life have gone if she had not been so curious； Verin wondered。 For one thing； she would have married Eadwin and remained in Far Madding instead of going to the White Tower。 She would be long dead； for another； and the children she had never had； and her grandchildren； too。
With a sigh； she turned back to Coram。 〃When Mendan returns； would you go tell Colinda that I would like to see Irgain Fatamed？〃 The pain in her muscles tomorrow would be a small penance for Beldeine's suffering over that spilled water； but that was not why she did it； or even her curiosity； really。 She still had a task。 Somehow； she had to keep young Rand alive until it was time for him to die。
The room might have been in a grand palace； except that it had neither windows nor doors。 The fire on a golden marble hearth gave no heat； and the flames did not consume the logs。 The man seated at a table with gilded legs； centered on a silk carpet woven with glittering threads of gold and silver； cared little for the trappings of this Age。 They were necessary to impress； no more。 Not that he really needed more than himself to overawe the stiffest pride。 He called himself Moridi