tg.stone of tears-第97部分

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　closer　to　him。　‘You　must　stay　close　to　me；　keep　going。　You　must　ignore　any　desire　you　have；　both　fear　and　longing；　to　do　otherwise。　Do　you　understand？’
　
　Richard　finally　nodded。　Sister　Verna　returned　her　gaze　to　the　shimmering　forms。　She　sat　motionless；　watching。　In　the　distance；　beyond　the　wavering　light；　he　thought　he　saw　thun…derheads；　dark　and　ominous；　drifting　across　the　horizon。　He　felt　more　than　heard　their　thunder。　Somehow；　he　knew　it　wasn’t　clouds；　but　magic。　When　Bonnie　tossed　her　head；　Richard　gave　her　a　reassuring　pat　on　her　neck。
　
　After　watching　awhile；　he　looked　over　to　the　Sister。　She　sat　still　and　tense。
　
　‘What　are　you　waiting　for；　Sister？　Courage？’
　
　She　answered　without　moving。　‘Exactly。　I　am　waiting　for　courage；　child。’
　
　He　felt　no　anger　this　time　at　her　calling　him　‘child；’　but　rather　that　it　might　be　an　appropriate　characterization；　as　far　as　his　abilities　were　concerned。
　
　In　a　whisper；　and　still　without　looking　away　from　the　sunbaked　inferno　ahead；　she　went　on。　‘You　were　still　in　swaddling　clothes　when　I　came　through；　but　I　remember　every　detail　as　if　it　happened　yesterday。　Yes；　I　am　waiting　for　courage。’
　
　He　gave　Bonnie　a　squeeze　with　his　legs；　urging　her　ahead。　‘The　sooner　we　start；　the　sooner　we’re　through。’
　
　‘Or　lost。’　She　walked　her　horse　after　him。　‘So　anxious　to　be　lost；　Richard？’
　
　‘I’m　already　lost；　Sister。’
　
　
　CHAPTER　29
　
　They　were　confronted　by　steps；　twenty　strides　wide；　that　revealed　themselves　for　what　they　were　only　at　the　far　right；　where　the　wind　had　funneled　down　next　to　the　sweeping；　pink　marble　balustrade　and　kept　the　snow　clear。　Pausing　for　only　a　moment　as　she　realized　they　had　reached　her　destination；　Kahlan　set　her　snowshoes　firmly　into　the　snowdrift　that　covered　the　steps；　and　ascended　to　the　portico；　its　fascia　decorated　with　a　row　of　statues　swathed　in　cut　stone　that　mimicked　the　drape　of　cloth　so　well　it　seemed　as　if　it　might　move　in　the　light　breeze。　Ten　white　columns　to　each　side　held　the　massive　entablature　at　a　dizzying　height　above　the　arched　entrance。　Bodies　fallen　in　a　desperate　battle　were　sprawled　atop　one　another　all　over　the　snow…covered　lawns；　and　sat　as　if　in　repose　against　the　walls　of　the　domed　exterior　entrance　hall。
　
　The　ornate　doors；　displaying　delicately　carved　royal　shields　of　the　House　of　Amnell；　held　aloft　by　twin　mountain　lions；　lay　in　splinters　on　the　floor　of　the　vestibule。　Flanking　the　rope…carved　stone　arch　at　the　far　end　stood　life…size　statues　of　Queen　Bernadine　and　King　Wyborn；　each　holding　a　spear　and　shield　in　one　hand；　the　queen　a　sheaf　of　wheat　in　the　other；　and　the　king　a　lamb。　The　queen’s　breasts　were　broken　away；　flakes　of　stone　and　stone　dust　littered　the　rust　colored　marble　tiles。　Both　statues　were　without　their　heads。
　
　With　nearly　numb　fingers；　Kahlan　untied　the　bindings　of　her　snowshoes　and　leaned　them　against　the　queen’s　statue。　Chandalen　followed　her　example　before　following　her　into　the　reception　hall　lined　with　broken　mirrors　and　torn　tapestries。　She　pulled　her　mantle　tight　around　herself　as　clouds　of　their　breath　rose　lazily　into　dead　still　air　that　was　somehow　much　colder　than　that　outside。
　
　‘What　is　this　place　used　for？’　Chandalen　asked　in　a　whisper；　as　if　afraid　he　might　wake　the　spirits　of　the　dead。
　
　She　had　to　force　herself　not　to　whisper。　‘It　is　the　home　of　the　queen　of　this　land。　Her　name　is　Cyrilla。’
　
　His　doubting　voice　echoed　down　the　stone　hall。　‘One　person　lives　in　a　place　such　as　this？’
　
　‘Many　people　live　here。　There　are　advisors；　much　like　the　elders　among　your　people；　and　others　that　are　responsible　for　governing　the　needs　of　the　land；　and　people　who　tend　to　their　needs　so　they　may　perform　their　duties。　Many　people　call　this　their　home；　but　the　queen　is　the　head　of　the　household；　as　she　is　the　head　of　her　land。　She　is　above　them　all。’
　
　Chandalen　followed　silently　as　she　began　to　search　the　palace。　His　eyes　slid　from　one　wondrous　object　to　another；　from　elaborately　carved　furniture　that　now　lay　everywhere　in　splinters；　to　the　heavy　red；　blue；　gold；　or　green　draperies　that　adorned　the　ten…foot…tall；　square…top　windows；　all　broken　now。
　
　She　descended　a　flight　of　stairs　to　the　lower　rooms；　the　oak　treads　creaking　with　every　step　in　the　cold。　He　insisted　on　entering　each　room　first；　pushing　doors　open　with　a　foot　and　gliding　in　behind　a　fully　drawn　ten…step　arrow；　before　allowing　her　to　search　inside。
　
　They　found　only　the　dead。　In　a　few　of　the　rooms　they　found　some　of　the　staff；　who　had　been　lined　up　against　a　wall　and　pincushioned　with　arrows。　In　the　kitchens　it　looked　as　if　after　executing　the　cooks；　cook’s　helpers；　wine　stewards；　assistants；　dishwashers；　potboys；　spit　boys；　and　scullions；　the　invaders　had　sat　down　and　had　a　drunken　feast。　The　ale　and　wine　casks　were　empty。　It　appeared　they　had　thrown　more　food　at　the　walls　than　they　had　eaten。
　
　While　Chandalen　checked　the　ransacked　larder；　Kahlan’s　eye　was　caught　by　the　bodies　of　two　young　women；　kitchen　help；　on　the　floor　behind　a　long　chopping　block。　One　was　pletely　naked；　and　the　other　had　but　one　brown；　woolen　stocking；　bunched　down　around　her　thin　ankle。　Her　first　assumption　had　been　wrong。　Not　all　the　help　had　been　killed　before　the　drunken　feast。
　
　Her　face　as　still　as　those　of　the　dead　women；　she　turned　and　strode　from　the　kitchen　and　started　up　the　servants’　stairs　to　check　the　upper　floors。　Chandalen’s　thumping　footfalls　came　charging　up　behind　as　he　took　three　steps　at　a　time　to　catch　her。
　
　She　knew　he　didn’t　like　it　that　she　had　left　without　him；　but　he　didn’t　voice　it。　There　is　salted　meat。　Maybe　we　could　take　a　little？　I　do　not　think　these　people　would　think　it　wrong　for　us　to　do　so。　They　would　not　deny　us　a　little　food。’
　
　Kahlan　put　her　hand　to　the　railing　as　she　climbed　with　a　steady　cadence；　but　then　pulled　the　hand　back　inside　her　mantle；　because　the　polished　maple　was　so　cold　to　the　touch　it　stung　her　fingers。　‘If　you　eat　the　meat；　you　will　die。　They　will　have　poisoned　it；　so　that　if　any　of　the　dead’s　countrymen　return　to　this　place　and　eat　any　of　the　food　here；　they；　too；　will　die。’
　
　They　found　the　main　floor　clear　of　bodies。　It　looked　to　have　been　used　as　an　army　headquarters。　Empty　barrels　of　wine　and　rum　lay　about　the　ballroom　floor。　Food　scraps；　mugs　and　cups；　broken　dishes；　pipe　ashes；　bloody　bandages；　oily　rags；　broken　or　bent　swords；　spears　and　maces；　dark　wood　shavings　from　a　walnut　table　leg　someone　had　whittled　away　until　it　was　nothing　but　a　stub；　basins　of　frozen　water；　dirty　linen；　bedsheets　ripped　into　strips；　and　filthy；　quilted　bedcovers　of　every　color　littered　the　carpeted　floor。　Dirty　bootprints　were　everywhere；　even　on　the　tabletops。　By　the　swirling　scratches；　it　looked　as　if　men　had　danced　atop　them。
　
　Chandalen　walked　through　the　rubble；　inspecting　various　bits。　‘Two；　maybe　three　days　they　were　here。’
　
　She　nodded　her　agreement　as　her　eyes　cast　about。　‘It　looks　that　way。’
　
　He　rolled　a　wine　barrel　back　and　forth　with　his　foot；　testing　if　it　was　empty。　It　was。　‘I　wonder　why　they　stayed　so　long？　Just　to　drink；　and　dance？’
　
　Kahlan　sighed。　‘I　don’t　know。　Maybe　they　were　resting　and　tending　to　their　wounded。　Maybe　they　just　went　on　a　drunken　binge　to　celebrate　their　victory　over　these　people。’
　
　He　looked　up　sharply。　‘Killing　is　not　a　thing　to　celebrate。’
　
　‘It　is；　for　the　people　who　did　this　killing。’
　
　Reluctantly；　Kahlan　at　last　climbed　the　stairs　to　the　top　floor。　She　didn’t　want　to　look　up　there。　That　was　where　the　bedchambers　were。
　
　They　checked　the　west　wing　first：　the　men’s　apartments。　They　looked　to　have　been　used　by　the　troops　as　sleeping　quarters。　With　an　army　of　as　many　men　as　had　to　have　done　this；　they　would　have　had　many　men　of　rank。　The　officers　probably　stayed　here；　in　the　fine　rooms。　The　soldiers　under　their　mand　would　have　used　the　inns　and　more　mon　houses。
　
　With　a　deep　breath　to　strengthen　her　resolve；　she　set　her　jaw　and　crossed　the　central　hall；　with　its　balcony　that　overlooked　the　grand　staircase；　to　the　east…wing　rooms。　Chandalen；　close　at　her　heels；　wanted　to　open　the　doors　for　her　and　check　the　rooms　first；　but　here　she　wouldn’t　allow　it。　Her　hand　paused　for　a　moment　on　the　doorknob；　then　finally　opened　the　first　door。　She　stood　for　a　time；　staring　at　the　scene　inside。　She　went　to　the　next　door　and　flung　it　open；　and　then　to　the　next。
　
　All　the　rooms　were　occupied。　Each　bedchamber　had　women　in　it；　none　clothed。　Room　after　room　after　room　were　all　the　same。　By　the　filthy　condition　of　the　carpets；　there　looked　to　have　been　a　steady　stream　of　traffic。　Wood　shavings　lay　in　little　piles　about　the　floor；　where　a　man　had　passed　the　time　whittling　on　whatever　was　handy　while　he　waited　his　turn。
　
　‘Now　we　know　why　they　spent　several　days　here；’　Kahlan　said　without　meeting　Chandalen’s　eyes。　He　remained　silent。　She　couldn’t　bring　forth　more　than　a　whisper。　‘So　they　could　do　this。’
　
　Those　few　days　had　undoubtedly　been　the　longest　of　these　women’s　lives。　Kahlan　prayed　that　their　spirits　were　at　peace；　now。
　
　She　reached　the　door　at　the　end；　the　door　to　the　room　the　younger　women　shared。　Slowly；　she　opened　it；　and　stood　looking　in；　Chandalen　close　behind　her　looking　past　her　shoulder。
　
　Stifling　a　gasp；　she　turned　and　put　a　hand　to　his　chest。　‘Please；　Chandalen；　wait　here。’
　
　He　nodded　as　he　furiously　studied　his　boots。
　
　Kahlan　closed　the　door　behind　herself　and　stood　with　her　back　against　it　for　a　time。　One　hand　at　her　side；　and　the　other　covering　her　mouth；　she　skirted　an　overturned；　wrecked　wardrobe；　and　walked　the　length　of　the　frigid　room；　between　the　rows　of　beds；　looking　from　one　side　to　the　other。　The　precious　hand　mirrors；　brushes；　bs；　and　pins　that　at　one　time　had　been　arranged　with　loving　care　on　tables　between　the　beds　now　lay　scattered　about　the　floor。　The　blue　moire　curtains　billowed　slightly　in　the　icy　air　ing　through　the　broken　windows。
　
　These　were　the　queen’s　ladies…in…waiting。　Young　women　of　fourteen；　fifteen；　and　sixteen；　a　few　a　little　older。　These　were　not　just　nameless　corpses；　Kahlan　knew　many　of　these　young　women。