sk.everythingseventual-第34部分

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　the　moment　before　she　reached　Roland's　bed；　her　face　was　that　of　a　hag　who　will　never　see　eighty　again　。　。　。　or　ninety。　Then　it　shimmered　and　was　once　more　the　plump；　healthy　countenance　of　a　thirty…year…old　matron。　Except　for　the　eyes。　They　remained　yellowish　in　the　corneas；　gummy　in　the　corners；　and　watchful。
　　'He's　the　youngest；　I　the　eldest；'　Roland　said。　'Betwixt　us　are　seven　others；　and　twenty　years　of　our　parents'　lives。'
　　'How　sweet！　And　if　he's　yer　brother；　then　ye'll　know　his　name；　won't　ye？　Know　it　very　well。'
　　Before　the　gunslinger　could　flounder；　the　young　man　said；　'They　think　you've　forgotten　such　a　simple　hook　as　John　Norman。　What　culleens　they　be；　eh；　Jimmy？'
　　Coquina　and　Tamra　looked　at　the　pale　boy　in　the　bed　next　to　Roland's；　clearly　angry　。　。　。　and　clearly　trumped。　For　the　time　being；　at　least。
　　'You've　fed　him　your　muck；'　the　boy　（whose　medallion　undoubtedly　proclaimed　him　John；　Loved　of　family。　Loved　of　GOD）　said。　'Why　don't　you　go；　and　let　us　have　a　natter？'
　　'Well！'　Sister　Coquina　huffed。　'I　like　the　gratitude　around　here；　so　I　do！'
　　'I'm　grateful　for　what's　given　me；'　Norman　responded；　looking　at　her　steadily；　'but　not　for　what　folk　would　take　away。'
　　Tamra　snorted　through　her　nose；　turned　violently　enough　for　her　swirling　dress　to　push　a　draught　of　air　into　Roland's　face；　and　then　took　her　leave。　Coquina　stayed　a　moment。
　　'Be　discreet；　and　mayhap　someone　ye　like　better　than　ye　like　me　will　get　out　of　hack　in　the　morning；　instead　of　a　week　from　tonight。'
　　Without　waiting　for　a　reply；　she　turned　and　followed　Sister　Tamra。
　　Roland　and　John　Norman　waited　until　they　were　both　gone；　and　then　Norman　turned　to　Roland　and　spoke　in　a　low　voice。　'My　brother。　Dead？'
　　Roland　nodded。　'The　medallion　I　took　in　case　I　should　meet　with　any　of　his　people。　It　rightly　belongs　to　you。　I'm　sorry　for　your　loss。'
　　'Thankee…sai。'　John　Norman's　lower　lip　trembled；　then　firmed。　'I　knew　the　green　men　did　for　him；　although　these　old　biddies　wouldn't　tell　me　for　sure。　They　did　for　plenty；　and　scotched　the　rest。'
　　'Perhaps　the　Sisters　didn't　know　for　sure。'
　　'They　knew。　Don't　you　doubt　it。　They　don't　say　much；　but　they　know　plenty。　The　only　one　any　different　is　Jenna。　That's　who　the　old　battle…axe　meant　when　she　said　'your　friend。'　Aye？'　Roland　nodded。　'And　she　said　something　about　the　Dark　Bells。　I'd　know　more　of　that；　if　would　were　could。'
　　'She's　something　special；　Jenna　is。　More　like　a　princess…someone　whose　place　is　made　by　bloodline　and　can't　be　refused…than　like　the　other　Sisters。　I　lie　here　and　look　like　I'm　asleep…it's　safer；　I　think…but　I've　heard　em　talking。　Jenna's　just　e　back　among　em　recently；　and　those　Dark　Bells　mean　something　special　。　。　。　but　Mary's　still　the　one　who　swings　the　weight。　I　think　the　Dark　Bells　are　only　ceremonial；　like　the　rings　the　old　Barons　used　to　hand　down　from　father　to　son。　Was　it　she　who　put　Jimmy's　medal　around　your　neck？'
　　'Yes。'
　　'Don't　take　it　off；　whatever　you　do。'　His　face　was　strained；　grim。　'I　don't　know　if　it's　the　gold　or　the　God；　but　they　don't　like　to　get　too　close。　I　think　that's　the　only　reason　I'm　still　here。'　Now　his　voice　dropped　all　the　way　to　a　whisper。　'They　ain't　human。'
　　'Well；　perhaps　a　bit　fey　and　magical；　but　。　。　。'
　　'No！'　With　what　was　clearly　an　effort；　the　boy　got　up　on　one　elbow。　He　looked　at　Roland　earnestly。　'You're　thinking　about　hubberwomen；　or　witches。　These　ain't　hubbers；　nor　witches；　either。
　　They　ain't　human！'
　　'Then　what　are　they？'
　　'Don't　know。'
　　'How　came　you　here；　John？'
　　Speaking　in　a　low　voice；　John　Norman　told　Roland　what　he　knew　of　what　had　happened　to　him。　He；　his　brother；　and　four　other　young　men　who　were　quick　and　owned　good　horses　had　been　hired　as　scouts；　riding　drogue…and…forward；　protecting　a　long…haul　caravan　of　seven　freight　wagons　taking　goods…seeds；　food；　tools；　mail；　and　four　ordered　brides…to　an　unincorporated　township　called　Tejuas　some　two　hundred　miles　farther　west　of　Eluria。　The　scouts　rode　fore　and　aft　of　the　goods…train　in　turn…and…turn…about　fashion；　one　brother　rode　with　each　party　because；　Norman　explained；　when　they　were　together　they　fought　like　。　。　。　well　。　。　。
　　'Like　brothers；'　Roland　suggested。
　　John　Norman　managed　a　brief；　pained　smile。　'Aye；'　he　said。
　　The　trio　of　which　John　was　a　part　had　been　riding　drogue；　about　two　miles　behind　the　freight　wagons；　when　the　green　mutants　had　sprung　an　ambush　in　Eluria。
　　'How　many　wagons　did　you　see　when　you　got　there？'　he　asked　Roland。
　　'Only　one。　Overturned。'
　　'How　many　bodies？'
　　'Only　your　brother's。'
　　John　Norman　nodded　grimly。　'They　wouldn't　take　him　because　of　the　medallion；　I　think。'
　　'The　muties？'
　　'The　Sisters。　The　muties　care　nothing　for　gold　or　God。　These　bitches；　though　。　。　。'　He　looked　into　the　dark；　which　was　now　almost　plete。　Roland　felt　lethargy　creeping　over　him　again；　but　it　wasn't　until　later　that　he　realized　the　soup　had　been　drugged。
　　'The　other　wagons？'　Roland　asked。　'The　ones　not　overturned？'
　　'The　muties　would　have　taken　them；　and　the　goods；　as　well；'　Nor…man　said。　'They　don't　care　for　gold　or　God；　the　Sisters　don't　care　for　goods。　Like　as　not　they　have　their　own　foodstuffs；　something　I'd　as　soon　not　think　of。　Nasty　stuff　。　。　。　like　those　bugs。'
　　He　and　the　other　drogue　riders　galloped　into　Eluria；　but　the　fight　was　over　by　the　time　they　got　there。　Men　had　been　lying　about；　some　dead　but　many　more　still　alive。　At　least　two　of　the　ordered　brides　had　still　been　alive；　as　well。　Survivors　able　to　walk　were　being　herded　together　by　the　green　folk…John　Norman　remembered　the　one　in　the　bowler　hat　very　well；　and　the　woman　in　the　ragged　red　vest。
　　Norman　and　the　other　two　had　tried　to　fight。　He　had　seen　one　of　his　pards　gutshot　by　an　arrow；　and　then　he　saw　no　more…someone　had　cracked　him　over　the　head　from　behind；　and　the　lights　had　gone　out。
　　Roland　wondered　if　the　ambusher　had　cried　'Booh！'　before　he　had　struck；　but　didn't　ask。
　　'When　I　woke　up　again；　I　was　here；'　Norman　said。　'I　saw　that　some　of　the　others…most　of　them…had　those　cursed　bugs　on　them。'
　　'Others？'　Roland　looked　at　the　empty　beds。　In　the　growing　darkness；　they　glimmered　like　white　islands。　'How　many　were　brought　here？'
　　'At　least　twenty。　They　healed　the　bugs　healed　em　。　。　。　and　then；　one　by　one；　they　disappeared。　You'd　go　to　sleep；　and　when　you　woke　up　there'd　be　one　more　empty　bed。　One　by　one　they　went；　until　only　me　and　that　one　down　yonder　was　left。'
　　He　looked　at　Roland　solemnly。
　　'And　now　you。'
　　'Norman；'　Roland's　head　was　swimming。　'I…'
　　'I　reckon　I　know　what's　wrong　with　you；'　Norman　said。　He　seemed　to　speak　from　far　away　perhaps　from　all　the　way　around　the　curve　of　the　earth。　'It's　the　soup。　But　a　man　has　to　eat。　A　woman；　too。　If　she's　a　natural　woman；　anyway。　These　ones　ain't　natural。　Even　Sister　Jenna's　not　natural。　Nice　don't　mean　natural。'　Farther　and　farther　away。　'And　she'll　be　like　them　in　the　end。　Mark　me　well。'
　　'Can't　move。'　Saying　even　that　required　a　huge　effort。　It　was　like　moving　boulders。
　　'No。'　Norman　suddenly　laughed。　It　was　a　shocking　sound；　and　echoed　in　the　growing　blackness　which　filled　Roland's　head。　'It　ain't　just　sleep　medicine　they　put　in　their　soup；　it's　can't…move　medicine；　too。　There's　nothing　much　wrong　with　me；　brother　。　。　。　so　why　do　you　think　I'm　still　here？'
　　Norman　was　now　speaking　not　from　around　the　curve　of　the　earth　but　perhaps　from　the　moon。　He　said：　'I　don't　think　either　of　us　is　ever　going　to　see　the　sun　shining　on　a　flat　piece　of　ground　again。'
　　You're　wrong　about　that；　Roland　tried　to　reply；　and　more　in　that　vein；　as　well；　but　nothing　came　out。　He　sailed　around　to　the　black　side　of　the　moon；　losing　all　his　words　in　the　void　he　found　there。
　　Yet　he　never　quite　lost　awareness　of　himself。　Perhaps　the　dose　of　'medicine'　in　Sister　Coquina's　soup　had　been　badly　calculated；　or　perhaps　it　was　just　that　they　had　never　had　a　gunslinger　to　work　their　mischief　on；　and　did　not　know　they　had　one　now。
　　Except；　of　course；　for　Sister　Jenna…she　knew。
　　At　some　point　in　the　night；　whispering；　giggling　voices　and　lightly　chiming　bells　brought　him　back　from　the　darkness　where　he　had　been　biding；　not　quite　asleep　or　unconscious。　Around　him；　so　constant　he　now　barely　heard　it；　were　the　singing　'doctors。'
　　Roland　opened　his　eyes。　He　saw　pale　and　chancy　light　dancing　in　the　black　air。　The　giggles　and　whispers　were　closer。　Roland　tried　to　turn　his　head　and　at　first　couldn't。　He　rested；　gathered　his　will　into　a　hard　blue　ball；　and　tried　again。　This　time　his　head　did　turn。　Only　a　little；　but　a　little　was　enough。
　　It　was　five　of　the　Little　Sisters…Mary；　Louise；　Tamra；　Coquina；　Michela。　They　came　up　the　long　aisle　of　the　black　infirmary；　laughing　together　like　children　out　on　a　prank；　carrying　long　tapers　in　silver　holders；　the　bells　lining　the　forehead…bands　of　their　wimples　chiming　little　silver　runs　of　sound。　They　gathered　about　the　bed　of　the　bearded　man。　From　within　their　circle；　candleglow　rose　in　a　shimmery　column　that　died　before　it　got　halfway　to　the　silken　ceiling。
　　Sister　Mary　spoke　briefly。　Roland　recognized　her　voice；　but　not　the　words…it　was　neither　low　speech　nor　the　High；　but　some　other　language　entirely。　One　phrase　stood　out…can　de　lach；　mi　him　en　tow…and　he　had　no　idea　what　it　might　mean。
　　He　realized　that　now　he　could　hear　only　the　tinkle　of　bells…the　doctor…bugs　had　stilled。
　　'Ras　me！　On！　On！'　Sister　Mary　cried　in　a　harsh；　powerful　voice。　The　candles　went　out。　The　light　that　had　shone　through　the　wings　of　their　wimples　as　they　gathered　around　the　bearded　man's　bed　vanished；　and　all　was　darkness　once　more。
　　Roland　waited　for　what　might　happen　next；　his　skin　cold。　He　tried　to　flex　his　hands　or　feet；　and　could　not。　He　had　been　able　to　move　his　head　perhaps　fifteen　degrees；　otherwise　he　was　as　paralyzed　as　a　fly　neatly　wrapped　up　and　hung　in　a　spider's　web。
　　The　low　jingling　of　bells　in　the　black　。　。　。　and　then　sucking　sounds。　As　soon　as　he　heard　them；　Roland　knew　he'd　been　waiting　for　them。　Some　part　of　him　had　known　what　the　Little　Sisters　of　Eluria　were；　all　along。
　　If　Roland　could　have　raised　his　hands；　he　would　have　put　them　to　hi