tg.stone of tears-第138部分

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　Richard　squirmed　in　his　saddle。　‘Will　we　see　any　of　the　towers　when　we　cross？’
　
　There’s　no　way　to　tell。　The　gaps　shift　constantly。　Occasionally；　on　the　way　through；　the　openings　take　you　close　to　a　tower。　I　saw　one　on　my　first　journey　through。　Some　Sisters　never　saw　one。　I　hope　never　to　see　another。’
　
　Richard　realized　he　was　gripping　the　hilt　of　his　sword　with　his　left　hand。　The　raised　letters　of　the　word　TRUTH　bit　into　his　flesh。　He　relaxed　his　hand；　releasing　the　hilt。
　
　‘So；　what　can　we　expect　to　see？’
　
　Sister　Verna　broke　her　gaze　into　the　distance　and　redirected　it　to　him。　‘There　are　spells　of　every　sort。　Some　are　spells　of　despair。　To　be　snared　in　one　is　to　have　your　soul　wander　in　despair　for　all　time。　Some　are　spells　of　joy　and　delight；　in　which　one　is　lost　in　enchantment　for　all　time。　Some　are　pure　destruction；　and　will　tear　you　apart。　Some　will　show　you　things　you　fear；　to　make　you　run　into　the　clutches　of　things　that　lurk　behind。　Some　tempt　with　things　you　hope　for。　If　you　give　in　to　the　desire　。。。’　She　leaned　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　thi