tg.stone of tears-第98部分

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　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。
　
　The　queen　had　taken　them　with　her　when　she　had　traveled　to　Aydindril　to　speak　before　the　council。　Kahlan　could　not　have　failed　to　notice　them；　their　vibrancy；　their　wide…eyed　excitement　at　being　in　Aydindril。　Seeing　the　grandeur　of　Aydindril　through　their　young　eyes　had　given　Kahlan　new　vision　of　the　things　around　her；　and　brought　a　smile　to　her　lips。　She　had　longed　to　give　them　a　tour；　personally；　but　being　with　the　Mother　Confessor　would　have　frightened　them；　and　so　she　hadn’t。　But　she　had　admired　them　from　afar；　and　envied　their　lives　of　possibility。
　
　Kahlan　stopped　at　various　beds；　her　back　stiff；　her　head　held　high；　her　jaw　rigid；　as　she　reluctantly　cast　her　eyes　down　at　faces　she　knew。　Juliana；　one　of　the　youngest；　had　always　been　self…confident　and　assertive。　She　knew　what　she　wanted　and　wasn’t　timid　about　going　after　it。　She　had　always　been　smitten　with　young　men　in　uniform：　soldiers。　One　time；　it　had　brought　her　to　grief　with　her　chaperone；　Mistress　Nelda。　Kahlan　had　surreptitiously　interceded　on　her　behalf；　informing　Mistress　Nelda　that　despite　Juliana’s　dalliances；　the　Aydindril　Home　Guard　were　all　men　of　impeccable　honor；　and　would　never　lay　a　finger　on　a　queen’s　lady。　Her　wrists　were　now　tied　to　the　headpost；　and　by　the　way　they　had　bled；　looked　to　have　been　that　way　through　the　whole　of　her　ordeal。　Kahlan　silently　cursed　the　spirits　for　their　cruel　humor　in　giving　the　young　innocent　what　she　had　thought　she　wanted。
　
　Little　Elswyth　was　in　the　next　blood…soaked　bed。　Her　breasts　had　been　stabbed　countless　times；　and　her　throat　slit；　as　were　many　of　the　rest；　like　hogs　at　slaughter。　At　the　end　of　the　room；　Kahlan　stopped　at　the　foot　of　the　last　bed。　Ashley；　one　of　the　older　teenagers；　had　each　ankle　tied　to　a　footpost。　She　had　been　strangled　with　a　curtain　tieback。　Her　father　was　one　of　the　Galean　aides　to　the　ambassador　in　Aydindril。　Her　mother　had　been　thrilled　to　tears　when　Queen　Cyrilla　had　agreed　to　take　Ashley　on　as　one　of　her　ladies…in…waiting。
　
　How　would　she　ever　find　the　words　to　tell　Ashley’s　father　and　mother　what　had　happened　to　their　little　girl　while　in　the　service　of　their　queen？
　
　As　Kahlan　retraced　her　steps　through　the　length　of　the　room；　taking　a　last　look　at　each　dead　body；　at　each　face　frozen　in　horror　or　in　blank　submission；　she　idly　wondered　why　she　wasn’t　crying。　Shouldn’t　she　cry？　Shouldn’t　she　fall　to　her　knees；　scream　in　anguish；　pound　her　fists；　and　cry　until　she　drowned　in　tears？　But　she　didn’t。　She　felt　as　if　there　were　no　tears　to　be　had。
　
　Perhaps　there　were　too　many。　Perhaps　she　had　seen　so　many　that　day　that　it　had　simply　numbed　her　to　it。　Like　when　you　get　into　a　tub　of　water　for　a　bath；　and　at　first　you　feel　that　it　is　too　hot　to　stand；　that　surely　you　are　being　scalded；　but　after　a　few　minutes　it　seems　only　warm。
　
　She　softly　pulled　the　door　closed。　Chandalen　stood　in　the　exact　same　spot　she　had　left　him。　His　knuckles　were　white　on　his　bow。　Kahlan　walked　past　him；　expecting　him　to　follow。　He　didn’t。
　
　‘Most　women　would　cry；’　he　said　as　he　stared　at　the　door。
　
　She　felt　a　flush　of　heat　in　her　cheeks。　‘I　am　not　most　women。’
　
　Chandalen　didn’t　take　his　eyes　from　the　door。　‘No；　you　are　not。’
　
　His　eyes　finally　left　the　door　to　look　down　at　his　bow。　The　tension　left　his　shoulders　as　he　pulled　a　deep　breath；　as　if　it　was　the　first　he　had　taken　in　a　while。　‘I　wish　to　tell　you　a　story。’
　
　Kahlan　waited　a　few　paces　away。　‘I　do　not　wish　to　hear　a　story　right　now；　Chandalen。　Perhaps　later。’
　
　He　turned　his　fierce　brown　eyes　to　her。　‘I　wish　to　tell　you　a　story；’　he　repeated；　a　little　louder　this　time。
　
　She　sighed。　‘If　it’s　important　to　you；　then　tell　me。’
　
　Holding　her　gaze；　he　closed　the　distance　between　them。　He　was　a　scant　inch　shorter　than　she；　but　right　then　he　looked　taller　to　her。　‘When　my　grandfather　was　as　young；　and　strong’　…　he　tapped　his　puffed…up　chest　…　‘as　I　am　now；　he　already　had　a　wife；　and　two　sons。　Many　peoples　came　to　our　village　to　trade。　We　let　all　e。　We　kept　no　one　away。　All　were　wele。　The　Jocopo　were　one　of　these　people　who　came　to　trade。’
　
　‘Who　are　the　Jocopo？’　Kahlan　knew　every　people　in　the　Midlands；　but　had　never　heard　of　these。
　
　‘People　who　lived　to　the　west；　closer　to　where　the　boundary　was。’
　
　Kahlan　frowned　as　her　mind　searched　a　mental　map。　‘No　one　lives　to　the　west　of　the　Mud　People。　That　land　is　deserted。’
　
　Chandalen　watched　her　from　under　his　eyebrows。　‘The　Jocopo　were　big　people。’　He　held　his　hand　a　head　higher　than　he　was；　before　letting　it　fall　to　his　side。　‘But　they　were　always　peaceful。　Like　the　Bantak。　Like　our　people。　Then　they　made　war　on　us。　We　do　not　know　the　reason。　But　our　people　were　very　afraid。　They　would　shake　at　night；　in　the　fear　that　the　Jocopo　might　e　again　the　next　day。　They　would　e　to　our　village；　and　cut　the　men’s　throats；　and　take　women；　and　do　these　things　to　them。’　He　flicked　his　hand　selfconsciously　at　the　door。
　
　‘Rape；’　she　said　in　an　even　tone。　‘It　is　called　rape。’
　
　He　nodded。　‘The　Jocopo　would　do　this　to　our　women。　They　stole　many　women；　and　did　this　rape　to　them。’　He　glanced　at　the　door　again。　‘In　the　way　it　was　done　to　these　women。　Do　you　understand？’
　
　They　were　raped　by　many　men　and　tortured　and　murdered。’
　
　He　nodded；　relieved　that　he　didn’t　have　to　elaborate。　‘The　Mud　People　did　not　have　fighters；　like　we　do　now；　like　me。’　His　chest　swelled　again；　and　his　chin　came　up。　At　last；　the　wind　left　his　lungs。　‘We　never　had　to　fight　with　anyone。　None　of　our　people　wanted　to　fight　others。　They　thought　it　was　wrong。　But　the　Jocopo　made　us　want　to　fight。
　
　They　stole　my　grandmother。　My　grandfather’s　wife。　The　mother　to　my　father。　My　grandfather　gave　an　oath　to　send　the　Jocopo　to　the　spirit　world。　He　gathered　men　together；　men　who　had　their　wives；　or　sisters；　or　mothers　taken；　and　。。。’　He　wiped　his　forehead　as　if　he　were　sweating；　but　in　the　cold　he　was　not。
　
　Kahlan　put　a　hand　on　his　arm。　He　didn’t　flinch　this　time。　‘I　understand；　Chandalen。’
　
　‘My　grandfather　called　for　a　gathering；　and　was　visited　by　our　ancestors’　spirits。　He　wept　for　his　wife　before　the　spirits；　and　asked　if　the　ancestors’　spirits　would　teach　him　how　to　stop　the　Jocopo。　They　told　him　that　first　he　must　stop　weeping　until　after　the　fighting　was　done。’
　
　Kahlan　took　her　hand　back　and　absently　stroked　the　fur　at　her　neck。　‘My　father　taught　me　something　very　much　like　that。　He　said；　‘Don’t　shed　tears　over　those　already　in　the　ground；　until　after　you　have　brought　vengeance　to　those　who　put　them　there。　There　will　be　time　enough；　then。’’
　
　Chandalen　appraised　her　approvingly。　Then　your　father　was　a　wise　man。’
　
　Kahlan　waited　silently　until　at　last　he　seemed　to　mentally　gather　up　the　memories　of　the　stories；　and　continued。
　
　The　ancestors’　spirits　came　to　my　grandfather　every　night　in　a　gathering。　They　taught　him　what　he　must　do；　how　to　kill。　He　taught　these　men　what　he　had　learned。　He　taught　them　how　to　put　mud　on　themselves；　and　tie　grass　to　themselves；　so　not　to　be　seen。　Our　men　became　like　the　shadows。　The　Jocopo　could　not　see　them　if　they　stood　as　close　as　we　do　now。
　
　‘My　grandfather　and　his　men　made　war　with　the　Jocopo。　Not　war　the　way　the　Jocopo　made　war；　but　the　way　the　spirits　taught。　The　Jocopo　made　war　in　the　day；　because　they　were　many；　and　had　no　fear　of　us。　The　spirits　told　grandfather　that　he　must　not　fight　the　Jocopo　the　way　they　wanted；　but　must　make　them　fear　the　night；　and　the　empty　grassland；　and　every　call　of　a　bird　or　frog　or　bug。
　
　‘For　every　one　of　the　Mud　People；　there　were　five　Jocopo。　At　first；　they　were　not　afraid　of　us；　because　of　their　numbers。　We　killed　Jocopo　when　they　hunted　food；　when　they　tended　their　crops；　when　they　cared　for　their　animals；　when　they　went　for　water；　when　they　went　to　squat；　when　they　slept。　Any　Jocopo。　Every　Jocopo。　We　did　not　try　to　fight　them；　we　only　killed　them。　Until　there　were　no　more　Jocopo　in　this　world；　only　in　the　spirit　world。’
　
　She　wondered　briefly　if　he　meant　that　they　had　killed　the　children；　too；　but　she　knew　the　answer；　there　were　no　more　Jocopo。　Something　else　her　father　had　taught　her　came　to　mind：　If　war　is　brought　to　you；　then　it　is　incumbent　upon　you　to　show　no　mercy。　Surely　you　will　be　shown　none；　and　you　will　be　a　traitor　to　your　people　and　as　good　as　their　enemy　if　you　let　any　clemency　slip　its　bounds；　for　your　people　will　pay　for　your　mistake　with　their　lives。
　
　‘I　understand；　Chandalen。　Your　people　did　the　only　thing　they　could。　Your　grandfather　did　what　was　necessary　to　protect　his　people。　My　father　also　taught　me；　‘If　war　is　brought　to　you；　then　let　there　be　war　like　your　enemy　has　never　imagined　in　his　most　frightening　nightmares。　Anything　less；　and　you　hand　victory　to　your　foe。’’
　
　‘Your　father；　too；　must　know　the　spirits　of　his　ancestors。　He　did　well　to　teach　you　their　lessons。’　His　voice　lowered　sympathetically。　‘But　I　know　they　are　harsh　lessons　to　live　by；　and　can　make　you　look　hard　to　others。’
　
　‘I　know　the　truth　of　that。　Your　grandfather　brought　honor　to　the　Mud　People；　Chandalen。　I’m　sure　that　when　it　was　done；　he　shed　many　tears　for　those　of　his　people　who　were　murdered。’
　
　Chandalen　untied　the　thong　at　his　neck　and　shrugged　back　his　mantle；　letting　it　drop　to　the　floor。　He　wore　a　heavy　buckskin　tunic　and　pants。　At　each　shoulder；　held　with　a　band　made　of　woven　prairie　cotton　around　his　upper　arm；　was　a　bone　knife。　The　lower　end　was　sharpened　to　a　point；　and　the　knuckle　at　the　other　end　was　covered　with　the　same　woven　cotton　for　a　better　grip。　Black　feathers　hung　from　the　top。
　
　He　tapped　one　of　the　bones。　This　is　of　my　grandfather。’　He　touched　the　other。　This　is　of　my　father。　One　day；　when　I　have　a　strong　son；　he　will　wear　one　of　me；　and　of　my　father；　and　the　one　of　my　grandfather　will　be　put　to　rest　in　the　ground。’
　
　When　Kahlan　had　first　seen　the　bone　knives；　when　they　had　left　the　Mud　People　village；　she　had　thou