"Jordan, Robert - Wheel of Time 10 - crossroads of twilight" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jordan Robert)

longsword. There was a faint creak of leather and metal as others
eased their weapons. For the rest, silence. The forest was as still as
a frozen tomb. Only a limb breaking under the weight of snow.
After a moment, he let himself relax--as much as he had relaxed
since the tales came north of the Dragon Reborn appearing in the
sky at Palme. Perhaps the man really was the Dragon Reborn, per-
haps he really had appeared in the sky, but whatever the truth,
those tales had set Arad Doman on fire.
Ituralde was sure he could have put out that fire, given a freer
hand. It was not boasting to think so. He knew what he could do,
with a battle, a campaign, or a war. But ever since the Council had
decided the King would be safer smuggled out of Bandar Eban,
Alsalam seemed to have taken into his head that he was the rebirth
of Artur Hawkwing. His signature and seal had marked scores of
battle orders since, flooding out from wherever the Council had
him hidden. They would not say where that was, even to Ituralde
himself. Every woman on the Council that he confronted went flat-
eyed and evasive at any mention of the King. He could almost
believe they did not know where Alsalam was. A ridiculous
thought, of course. The Council kept an unblinking eye on the
King. Ituralde had always believed the merchant Houses interfered
too much, yet he wished they would interfere now. Why they

i8 C R O S S R O A D S OF T W I L I G H T


remained silent was a mystery, for a king who damaged trade did
not remain long on the throne.
He was loyal to his oaths, and Alsalam was a friend, besides,
but the orders the King sent could not have been better written to
achieve chaos. Nor could they be ignored. Alsalam was the King.
But he had commanded Ituralde to march north with all possible
speed against a great gathering of Dragonsworn that Alsalam sup-
posedly knew of from secret spies, then ten days later, with no
Dragonsworn yet in sight, an order came to move south again,
with all possible speed, against another gathering that never mate-
rialized. He had been commanded to concentrate his forces to
defend Bandar Eban when a three-pronged attack might have
ended it all and to divide them when a hammer blow could have
done the same, to harry ground he knew the Dragonsworn had
abandoned, and to march away from where he knew they camped.
Worse, Alsalam's orders often had gone directly to the powerful
nobles who were supposed to be following Ituralde, sending
Machir in this direction, Teacal in that, Rahman in a third. Four
times, pitched battles had resulted from parts of the army blunder-
ing into one another in the night while moving to the King's
express command and expecting none but enemies ahead. And all
the while the Dragonsworn gained numbers, and confidence. Itu-
ralde had had his triumphs--at Solanje and Maseen, at Lake Somal
and Kandelmar--the Lords of Katar had learned not to sell the