tg.stone of tears-第121章

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agic　would　。。。　I　didn't　think　Confessors　could　。。。　marry。'
　
　'They　can't。　But　Richard　is　special。　He　has　the　gift；　and　my　power　cannot　harm　him。'
　
　Captain　Ryan　smiled　at　last。　'I'm　glad。　I'm　happy　for　you；　Mother　Confessor。'
　
　Kahlan　lifted　an　eyebrow。　'But　if　you　ever　meet　him；　don't　you　dare　tell　him　about　this　。。。　pretending　to　be　a　spirit　business。　He　has　rather　fusty　views　about　such　things。　If　you　told　him　you　let　me　run　around　naked　with　a　thousand　of　your　men；　he　would　probably　take　your　head　off。'
　
　Kahlan　laughed　at　the　alarmed　look　on　the　captain's　face。
　
　'Captain；　I　need　a　sword。'
　
　'A　sword！　Now　you're　going　to　fight；　too！'
　
　Kahlan　leaned　toward　him。　'Captain；　if　I'm　sitting　there　naked；　and　a　D'Haran　wishes　to　despoil　my　honor；　how　am　I　to　defend　myself　unless　I　have　a　sword？'
　
　'Oh。　Well；　I　see　your　point。'
　
　He　thought　a　moment。　An　idea　brightened　his　face　and　he　withdrew　his　own　sword　from　its　scabbard。　He　held　the　weapon　out　in　both　hands。　It　was　an　old　sword；　with　a　blade　pattern　wielded　in　the　old　fashion　and　acid　etched　in　the　fuller　to　display　the　wavy　folds　of　steel。
　
　This　blade　was　given　to　me　by　Prince　Harold　when　I　became　an　officer。　He　said　it　was　his　father's；　that　it　was　one　that　belonged　to　King　Wyborn　himself。　He　said　King　Wyborn　held　it　once　in　battle。'　He　shrugged　self…consciously。　'Of　course；　a　king　has　many　swords；　and　holds　many　of　them　in　battle　at　least　once；　so　they　will　be　said　to　have　been　wielded　by　a　king　in　defense　of　his　kingdom。　So　it's　not　really　valuable；　or　anything。'　He　looked　up　expectantly。　'But　I　would　be　honored　if　you　took　it　as　yours。　It　seems　only　right　that；　well；　since　you're　King　Wyborn's　daughter；　I　guess；　that　you　should　wield　his　sword　in　battle。　Maybe　it　has　magic；　or　something；　and　will　help　protect　your　life。'
　
　Kahlan　carefully　lifted　the　sword　from　his　hands。
　
　Thank　you；　Bradley。　This　means　a　lot　to　me。　You　are　wrong；　it　is　valuable。　I　will　carry　it　with　honor。　But　I　will　not　keep　it。　When　I'm　finished；　and　leave　for　Aydindril　in　a　couple　of　days；　then　I　will　return　it；　and　you　will　have　a　sword　wielded　not　only　by　a　king；　but　by　the　Mother　Confessor；　too。'
　
　He　grinned　with　the　idea　of　that。
　
　'Now；　would　you　please　post　a　guard　outside　this　tent？　And　then　see　to　the　swordsmen？'
　
　He　smiled　a　little　smile　and　brought　his　fist　to　his　heart。　'Of　course；　Mother　Confessor。'
　
　As　Kahlan　went　inside　the　warm　tent；　he　was　already　returning　with　three　men。　He　had　a　scowl　on　his　face　as　serious　as　any　scowl　she　had　ever　seen　on　any　officer's　face。
　
　'And　while　the　Mother　Confessor　is　in　her　bath；　you　will　keep　your　back　to　the　tent；　and　not　let　anyone　near。　Is　that　clear！'
　
　'Yes；　Captain；'　the　three　wide…eyed　soldiers　said　together。
　
　Inside；　in　the　warmth；　Kahlan　leaned　the　sword　against　the　tub；　slipped　off　the　fur　mantle；　and　then　her　clothes。　She　was　so　tired　she　felt　sick。　Her　stomach　felt　as　if　it　were　rising　and　falling　in　waves。　Her　head　spun　so　that　she　had　to　fight　nausea　that　swelled　in　bouts。
　
　She　dragged　her　hand　through　the　whitewash。　It　was　hot；　like　a　wonderful　bath。　But　this　was　no　bath。　She　lifted　her　legs　over　the　edge　one　at　a　time；　and　eased　herself　down　into　the　silky…smooth　white　water。　Her　breasts　felt　buoyant　in　the　milky　pool。　For　a　few　minutes；　she　draped　her　arms　over　the　sides　of　the　tub；　closed　her　eyes；　and　pretended　it　was　a　hot　bath。　She　wished　so　much　that　it　could　be　a　bath。　But　it　wasn't。
　
　It　was　something　she　did　to　keep　some　men　alive；　and　to　kill　others。　She　would　wear　white　as　the　Mother　Confessor　always　did；　but　it　would　not　be　her　dress；　as　always　before。
　
　Kahlan　lifted　her　father's　sword　and　held　the　hilt　between　her　breasts；　with　the　length　of　the　blade　running　down　her　body；　against　her　belly；　and　between　her　legs。　She　crossed　her　ankles　and　kept　her　legs　apart　so　as　not　to　slice　her　thighs　on　the　weapon。　She　held　her　nose　closed　with　her　other　hand；　squeezed　her　eyes　shut　tight；　took　a　deep　breath；　and　then　submerged　herself。
　
　
　CHAPTER　42
　
　Richard　and　Sister　Verna　continued　on；　through　a　dark　and　humid；　dank　and　stifling　tunnel　of　green；　ascending　the　gently　sloping　road　toward　the　humming；　haunting　sound　of　distant　flutes。　Branches　holding　not　only　their　own　leaves；　but　vines　of　every　sort　spiraling　around　and　over　them；　and　pale　moss　hanging　in　wispy　curtains；　filled　the　gaps　between　trunks　to　the　sides；　and　nearly　closed　off　the　light　from　above。
　
　Short　walls　to　each　side；　looking　to　have　been　built　in　an　attempt　to　hold　back　the　tangled　growth；　were　instead　being　snared　by　it　and　slowly　enfolded　into　the　creeping；　leafy　mat　of　life　they　sought　to　retain。　From　joints　in　the　stone　block；　vines　sprouted；　surrounding　and　smothering　whole　sections　of　wall；　bulging　it　in　other　places；　pushing　the　occasional　stone　out　to　hang　at　a　drunken　angle；　unable　to　fall　to　the　ground　because　of　the　net　of　tendrils。　The　walls　looked　as　if　they　were　prey；　being　swallowed　by　a　ponderous　predator。
　
　Only　one　part　of　the　walls　was　untouched　by　the　forest　life　…　the　human　skulls。　Atop　the　walls　to　each　side；　they　were　spaced　at　intervals　of　no　more　than　three　feet；　each　sitting　on　its　own　square　of　lichen…splotched　stone；　each　clean　of　growth；　looking　like　so　many　finials　with　eye　sockets　and　toothy　grins。　Richard　had　lost　count　of　the　number　of　skulls。
　
　His　curiosity；　his　dread；　failed　to　overe　his　stubborn　silence。　He　and　the　Sister　had　not　spoken　since　their　last　argument。　He　had　not　even　slept　in　camp　with　her；　preferring　instead　to　spend　his　watch；　and　the　rest　of　the　night；　hunting　and　sleeping　with　Gratch。　Sister　Verna's　angry　silence　was；　at　last；　no　match　for　his。　He　had　no　intention；　this　time；　of　being　the　one　to　make　amends。　They　both　contented　themselves　with　looking　at　anything　but　each　other。
　
　Opening　into　sunlight；　the　road　widened；　splitting　in　the　distance　around　a　striated　pyramid。　Richard　frowned；　trying　to　see　what　made　it　look　the　way　it　did　…　a　dotted；　pale　tan；　with　darker　bands　at　evenly　spaced　intervals　up　its　sides。　He　judged　its　height　at　three　times　his　eye　level　from　where　he　sat　atop　Bonnie。
　
　As　they　approached；　he　realized　the　mound　was　constructed　entirely　of　bones。　Human　bones。　The　dotted　tan　parts　were　skulls；　and　the　bands　were　leg　and　arm　bones　placed　end…out　in　layers。　He　guessed　there　must　be　tens　of　thousands　of　skulls　in　the　orderly　heap。　He　stared　as　they　rode　past；　Sister　Verna　didn't　seem　to　take　notice。
　
　Beyond　the　bone　pile；　the　wide　road　led　into　a　plaza　of　a　dark　and　hazy　city　in　the　middle　of　the　thick　forest。　The　flat　hilltop　had　been　cleared　of　every　tree；　as　had　the　terraced　fields　they　had　passed　not　an　hour　before。
　
　The　fields　looked　to　be　in　preparation　for　planting。　The　ground　was　freshly　turned；　and　there　were　stick　people　to　scare　away　the　birds　when　the　seed　was　planted。　It　was　winter；　yet　here；　in　this　place；　people　planted。　Richard　thought　it　a　wonder。
　
　Rather　than　feeling　open；　this　vast　city；　cleared　of　every　bit　of　green　that　surrounded　it；　seemed　even　more　closed　and　dark　than　the　tunneled　road。　Buildings　were　square；　with　flat　roofs；　and　faced　with　dingy　plaster　the　color　of　bark。　Near　the　roofs；　and　at　each　floor　level；　the　ends　of　support　logs　stuck　from　the　plastered　walls。　Windows　were　small；　with　never　more　than　one　in　a　wall。　The　buildings　varied　in　height；　but　most　were　attached　into　irregular　blocks。　The　tallest　must　have　had　four　floors。　None　had　the　slightest　variation　in　style；　other　than　their　height。
　
　Haze　and　woodsmoke　obscured　the　sky　and　the　buildings　in　the　distance。　The　plaza　seemed　simply　an　open　place　around　a　well　in　the　center；　and　was　the　only　open　area　of　any　size。　It　quickly　terminated　in　narrow；　dark　streets　with　smooth　walls　rising　up　to　each　side；　creating　man…made　chasms。　Overhead；　many　of　the　blocky　buildings　bridged　the　streets；　making　them　dark　tunnels；　and　where　there　were　none　of　the　bridging　buildings　overhead；　wash　hung　on　lines　between　opposing　windows。　Some　streets　were　cobblestone；　but　most　were　mud；　running　with　fetid　water。
　
　People　in　drab；　loose…fitting　clothes　filled　the　narrow　streets；　walked　barefoot　through　the　mud；　stood　with　their　arms　folded；　watching；　or　sat　in　groups　in　doorways。　Women　carrying　clay　water　jugs　on　their　heads；　balanced　with　the　aid　of　a　single　hand；　moved　tight　against　the　walls　to　make　room　for　the　three　horses。　They　made　their　way　to　and　from　the　well　in　indifferent　silence　as　Richard　and　Sister　Verna　passed。
　
　A　few　older　men　sat　in　wide　doorways；　or　leaned　against　walls。　The　men　wore　brimless；　straight…sided；　round；　dark；　flat…topped　hats；　with　strange　markings　in　light　colors　that　looked　to　have　been　painted　on　with　fingers。　Many　of　the　men　smoked　thin…stemmed　pipes。　Conversation　fell　silent　as　Richard　and　Sister　Verna　passed；　and　all　watched　the　two　strangers　and　three　horses　moving　by。　Some　idly　tugged　on　the　long；　dangling　earrings　they　wore　in　their　left　ears。
　
　Sister　Verna　led　the　way　through　the　narrow　streets；　taking　them　deeper　into　the　maze　of　drab　buildings。　When　they　at　last　reached　a　wider　cobblestone　street；　she　halted；　turned　to　him；　and　spoke　in　quiet　warning。
　
　'These　people　are　the　Majendie。　Their　land　is　a　vast；　crescent…shaped　swath　of　forests。　We　must　travel　the　length　of　their　land；　all　the　way　to　the　point　of　the　horn　of　their　land。　They　worship　spirits。　Those　skulls　we　saw　back　there　were　sacrifices　to　their　spirits。
　
　'Though　they　hold　foolish　beliefs　which　are　reprehensible；　we　do　not　have　the　power　to　change　them。　We　need　to　pass　through　their　land。　You　will　do　as　they　ask；　or　our　skulls　will　end　up　with　all　the　others　on　that　pile。'
　
　Richard　refused　to　give　her　the　satisfaction　of　an　answer　or　an　argument。　He　sat　with　his　hands　folded　over　the　pommel　of　his　saddle　and　without　emotion　watched　her　until　she　finally　turned　away　and　started　out　once　more。
　
　After　passing　under　a　low　bridge　building；　they　entered　a　slightly　dished；　open　square。　Perhaps　a　thousand　men　milled　about　or　clustered　in　small　groups。　Like　the　other　men　he　had　seen；　these　all　wore　the　one　long；　dangling　earring；　though　on　the　right　side　instead　of　the　left。　They　also　all　wore　short　swords　and　black　sashes。　Unlike　the　other　men；　none　of　these　wore　hats　on　their　shaved　heads。
　
　Off　in　the　center；　a　raised　platform　held　a　circle　of　men　sitting　cross…legged；　facing　inward；　around　a　thick　pole。　Here　was　the　source　of　the　eerie　melody。　A　circle　of　women　in　black　sat　in　a　ring；　facing　outward；　around　the　men。
　
　Standing　with　her　back　against　the　pole；　a　big　woman　in　a　billowing　black　outfit　slid　the　back　of　her　hand　up　the　pole　and　took　hold　of　a　knot　in　the　end　of　a　rope　hanging　from　a　bell。　As　she　watched　Richard　and　the　Sister　ride　into　the　square；　she　rang　the　bell　once。　The　Sister　brought　them　to　an　abrupt　halt　as　the　piercing　peal　drifted　across　the　square；　hushing　the　men；　and　urging　the　flute　players　into　faster　strains。
　
　That　is　a　warning；'　Sister　Verna　said。　'A　warning　to　the　spirits　of　their　enemies。　The　bell　is　also　a　call　to　the　warriors　present。　Those　are　these　men　here　in　the　square。　T