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！
In an instant he ducked into the shadowy corner where one building stuck out further than the next。 It seemed the best he could do for the moment。 Gripping the quarterstaff nervously； he waited。
A man appeared from back the way he had e； crouching as he eased himself ahead one slow step at a time； and then another man。 Each carried a knife in his hand and moved as if stalking。
Mat tensed。 If they came just a few steps closer before they noticed him hiding in the deeper shadows of the corner； he could take them by surprise。 He wished his stomach would stop fluttering。 Those knives were a great deal shorter than the practice swords； but they were steel； not wood。
One of the men squinted toward the far end of the narrow street and suddenly straightened； shouting； 〃Didn't he e your way； then？〃
〃I have seen nothing but the shadows；〃 came the answer in a heavy accent。 〃I wish to be out of this。 There are the strange things moving this night。〃
Not four paces from Mat； the two men exchanged looks； sheathed their knives； and trotted back the way they had e。
He let out a long； slow breath。 Luck。 Burn me if it's not good for more than dice。
He could no longer see the men at the mouth of the street； but he knew they were still out on the next street somewhere。 And more behind him the other way。
One of the buildings he was crouched against stood only a single story high here； and the roof looked flat enough。 And a white stone frieze carved in huge grape leaves ran up the joining of the two buildings。
Easing his quarterstaff up till one end rested on the edge of the roof； he gave it a hard shove。 It landed with a clatter on the roof tiles。 Not waiting to see if anyone had heard； he scrambled up the frieze； the big leaves giving easy toeholds even for a man in boots。 In seconds he had the staff back in hand and was trotting across the roof； trusting to luck for his footing。
Three more times he climbed； each time gaining one story。 The slightly sloping； tiled roofs ran some distance at that level； and there was a breeze at that height； prickling the hair on the back of his neck with its chill and almost making him think he was being followed。 Stop that； fool！ They're three streets away by now； looking for somebody else with a fat purse； and bad luck to them。
His boots slipped on the tiles； and he decided it might be a good idea to think about getting back down into the street himself。 Cautiously； he moved to the edge of the roof and peered down。 An empty street lay a good forty feet or more below him； with three taverns and an inn spilling light and music onto the cobblestones。 But off to his right was a stone bridge running from the top floor of his building to the one on the other side。
The bridge looked awfully narrow； running through darkness untouched by the tavern lights； arcing over a long fall to hard cobblestones； but he tossed the quarterstaff down and made himself follow before he could think about it too much。 His boots thumped onto the bridge； and he let himself roll the way he had as a boy falling out of a tree。 He fetched up against the waist…high railing。
〃Bad habits pay off in the long run；〃 he told himself as he got to his feet and picked up the staff。
The window at the other end of the bridge was tightly shuttered and lightless。 He did not think whoever lived in there would appreciate a stranger appearing in the middle of the night。 He could see lots of stonework； but if there was as much as a fingerhold in reach of the bridge； the night hid it。 Well； stranger or no stranger； inside I go。
He turned from the railing and suddenly became aware of a man sharing the bridge with him。 A man with a dagger in his hand。
Mat grabbed at the hand as the knife darted toward his throat。 He barely caught the fellow's wrist with his fingers； and then the quarterstaff between them tangled itself in his legs； tripping him to fall back against the railing； to fall half over it pulling the other man on top of him。 Balanced there on the small of his back； teetering with his assailant's bared teeth in his face； he was as aware of the long drop under his head as he was of the blade catching faint moonlight as it edged toward his throat。 His finger grip on the man's wrist was slipping； and his other hand was caught with the quarterstaff between their bodies。 Only seconds had passed since he first saw the man； and in seconds more； he was going die with a knife in his throat。
〃Time to toss the dice；〃 he said。 He thought the other man looked confused for an instant； but an instant was all he had。 With a heave of his legs； Mat flipped them both off into the empty air。
For a stretched…out moment he seemed to have no weight。 Air whistled past his ears and ruffled his hair。 He thought he heard the other man scream； or start to。 The impact knocked all the air out of his lungs and made silver…black flecks dance across his blurring vision。
When he could breathe again … and see … he realized he was lying on top of the man who had attacked him； his fall cushioned by the other's body。 〃Luck；〃 he whispered。 Slowly he climbed to his feet； cursing the bruise the quarterstaff had put across his ribs。
He expected the other man to be dead … not many could survive a thirty…foot fall to cobblestones with another's weight on top of him … but what he had not expected was to see the fellow's dagger driven to the hilt into his own heart。 Such an ordinary…looking man to have tried to kill him。 Mat did not think he would even have noticed him in a crowded room。
〃You had bad luck； fellow；〃 he told the corpse shakily。
Suddenly； everything that had happened rushed back in on him。 The footpads in the twisting street。 The scramble over the rooftops。 This fellow。 The fall。 His eyes rose to the bridge overhead； and a fit of trembling hit him。 I must have been crazy。 A little adventure is one thing； but Rogosh Eagle…eye wouldn't ask for this。
He realized he was standing over a dead man with a dagger in his chest； just waiting for someone to e along and run shouting for city guards with the Flame of Tar Valon on their chests。 The Amyrlin's paper might get him away from them； but maybe not before she found out。 He could still end up back in the White Tower； without that paper； and possibly not even allowed outside the Tower grounds。
He knew he should be on his way to the docks right then； and on the first vessel sailing if it was a rotten tub full of old fish； but his knees were shaking hard enough in reaction that he could hardly walk。 What he wanted was to sit down for just a minute。 Just a minute to steady his knees； and then he was headed for the docks。
The taverns were closer； but he started toward the inn。 The mon room of an inn was a friendly place； where a man could rest a minute and not worry about who might be sneaking up behind him。 Enough light came out through the windows for him to make out the sign。 A woman with her hair in braids； holding what he thought was an olive branch； and the words 〃The Woman of Tanchico。〃
Chapter 31
（Harp）
The Woman of Tanc