sk.everythingseventual-第34章

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　　Roland　lay　in　the　dark；　muscles　shivering；　heart　pounding；　listening　to　the　harpies　as　they　fed　on　the　boy　lying　in　the　bed　next　to　his　own。　It　seemed　to　go　on　forever；　but　at　last　they　had　done　with　him。　The　Sisters　relit　their　candles　and　left；　murmuring。
　　When　the　drug　in　the　soup　once　more　got　the　better　of　the　drug　in　the　reeds；　Roland　was　grateful　。　。　。　yet　for　the　first　time　since　he'd　e　here；　his　sleep　was　haunted。
　　In　his　dream　he　stood　looking　down　at　the　bloated　body　in　the　town　trough；　thinking　of　a　line　in　the　book　marked　REGISTRY　OF　MISDEEDS　AND　REDRESS。　Green　folk　sent　hence；　it　had　read；　and　perhaps　the　green　folk　had　been　sent　hence；　but　then　a　worse　tribe　had　e。　The　Little　Sisters　of　Eluria；　they　called　themselves。　And　a　year　hence；　they　might　be　the　Little　Sisters　of　Tejuas；　or　of　Kambero；　or　some　other　far　western　village。　They　came　with　their　bells　and　their　bugs　。　。　。　from　where？　Who　knew？　Did　it　matter？
　　A　shadow　fell　beside　his　on　the　scummy　water　of　the　trough。　Roland　tried　to　turn　and　face　it。　He　couldn't；　he　was　frozen　in　place。　Then　a　green　hand　grasped　his　shoulder　and　whirled　him　about。　It　was　Ralph。　His　bowler　hat　was　cocked　back　on　his　head；　John　Nor…man's　medallion；　now　red　with　blood；　hung　around　his　neck。
　　'Booh！'　cried　Ralph；　his　lips　stretching　in　a　toothless　grin。　He　raised　a　big　revolver　with　worn　sandalwood　grips。　He　thumbed　the　hammer　back　…
　　…　and　Roland　jerked　awake；　shivering　all　over；　dressed　in　skin　both　wet　and　icy　cold。　He　looked　at　the　bed　on　his　left。　It　was　empty；　the　sheet　pulled　up　and　tucked　about　neatly；　the　pillow　resting　above　it　in　its　snowy　sleeve。　Of　John　Norman　there　was　no　sign。　It　might　have　been　empty　for　years；　that　bed。
　　Roland　was　alone　now。　Gods　help　him；　he　was　the　last　patient　of　the　Little　Sisters　of　Eluria；　those　sweet　and　patient　hospitalers。　The　last　human　being　still　alive　in　this　terrible　place；　the　last　with　warm　blood　flowing　in　his　veins。
　　Roland；　lying　suspended；　gripped　the　gold　medallion　in　his　fist　and　looked　across　the　aisle　at　the　long　row　of　empty　beds。　After　a　little　while；　he　brought　one　of　the　reeds　out　from　beneath　his　pillow　and　nibbled　at　it。
　　When　Mary　came　fifteen　minutes　later；　the　gunslinger　took　the　bowl　she　brought　with　a　show　of　weakness　he　didn't　really　feel。　Porridge　instead　of　soup　this　time　。　。　。　but　he　had　no　doubt　the　basic　ingredient　was　still　the　same。
　　'How　well　ye　look　this　morning；　sai；'　Big　Sister　said。　She　looked　well　herself…there　were　no　shimmers　to　give　away　the　ancient　wampir　hiding　inside　her。　She　had　supped　well；　and　her　meal　had　firmed　her　up。　Roland's　stomach　rolled　over　at　the　thought。　'Ye'll　be　on　yer　pins　in　no　time；　I'll　warrant。'
　　'That's　shit；'　Roland　said；　speaking　in　an　ill…natured　growl。　'Put　me　on　my　pins　and　you'd　be　picking　me　up　off　the　floor　directly　after。　I've　started　to　wonder　if　you're　not　putting　something　in　the　food。'
　　She　laughed　merrily　at　that。　'La；　you　lads！　Always　eager　to　blame　yer　weakness　on　a　scheming　woman！　How　scared　of　us　ye　are…aye；　way　down　in　yer　little　boys'　hearts；　how　scared　ye　are！'
　　'Where's　my　brother？　I　dreamed　there　was　a　motion　about　him　in　the　night；　and　now　I　see　his　bed's　empty。'
　　Her　smile　narrowed。　Her　eyes　glittered。　'He　came　over　fevery　and　pitched　a　fit。　We've　taken　him　to　Thoughtful　House；　which　has　been　home　to　contagion　more　than　once　in　its　time。'
　　To　the　grave　is　where　you've　taken　him；　Roland　thought。　Mayhap　that　is　a　Thoughtful　House；　but　little　would　you　know　it；　sai；　one　way　or　another。
　　'I　know　ye're　no　brother　to　that　boy；'　Mary　said；　watching　him　eat。　Already　Roland　could　feel　the　stuff　hidden　in　the　porridge　draining　his　strength　once　more。　'Sigul　or　no　sigul；　I　know　ye're　no　brother　to　him。　Why　do　you　lie？　'Tis　a　sin　against　God。'
　　'What　gives　you　such　an　idea；　sai？'　Roland　asked；　curious　to　see　if　she　would　mention　the　guns。
　　'Big　Sister　knows　what　she　knows。　Why　not　'fess　up；　Jimmy？　Confession's　good　for　the　soul；　they　say。'
　　'Send　me　Jenna　to　pass　the　time；　and　perhaps　I'd　tell　you　much；'　Roland　said。
　　The　narrow　bone　of　smile　on　Sister　Mary's　face　disappeared　like　chalk…writing　in　a　rainstorm。　'Why　would　ye　talk　to　such　as　her？'
　　'She's　passing　fair；'　Roland　said。　'Unlike　some。'
　　Her　lips　pulled　back　from　her　overlarge　teeth。　'Ye'll　see　her　no　more；　cully。　Ye've　stirred　her　up；　so　you　have；　and　I　won't　have　that。'
　　She　turned　to　go。　Still　trying　to　appear　weak　and　hoping　he　would　not　overdo　it　（acting　was　never　his　forte）；　Roland　held　out　the　empty　porridge　bowl。　'Do　you　not　want　to　take　this？'
　　'Put　it　on　your　head　and　wear　it　as　a　nightcap；　for　all　of　me。　Or　stick　it　in　your　ass。　You'll　talk　before　I'm　done　with　ye；　cully…talk　till　I　bid　you　shut　up　and　then　beg　to　talk　some　more！'
　　On　this　note　she　swept　regally　away；　hands　lifting　the　front　of　her　skirt　off　the　floor。　Roland　had　heard　that　such　as　she　couldn't　go　about　in　daylight；　and　that　part　of　the　old　tales　was　surely　a　lie。　Yet　another　part　was　almost　true；　it　seemed：　a　fuzzy；　amorphous　shape　kept　pace　with　her；　running　along　the　row　of　empty　beds　to　her　right；　but　she　cast　no　real　shadow　at　all。
　　
　　
　　VI。　Jenna。　Sister　Coquina。　Tamra；
　　Michela；　Louise。　The　Cross…Dog。
　　What　Happened　in　the　Sage。
　　
　　That　was　one　of　the　longest　days　of　Roland's　life。　He　dozed；　but　never　deeply；　the　reeds　were　doing　their　work；　and　he　had　begun　to　believe　that　he　might；　with　Jenna's　help；　actually　get　out　of　here。　And　there　was　the　matter　of　his　guns；　as　well…perhaps　she　might　be　able　to　help　there；　too。
　　He　passed　the　slow　hours　thinking　of　old　times…of　Gilead　and　his　friends；　of　the　riddling　he　had　almost　won　at　one　Wide　Earth　Fair。　In　the　end　another　had　taken　the　goose；　but　he'd　had　his　chance；　aye。　He　thought　of　his　mother　and　father；　he　thought　of　Abel　Vannay；　who　had　limped　his　way　through　a　life　of　gentle　goodness；　and　Eldred　Jonas；　who　had　limped　his　way　through　a　life　of　evil　。　。　。　until　Roland　had　blown　him　loose　of　his　saddle；　one　fine　desert　day。
　　He　thought；　as　always；　of　Susan。
　　If　you　love　me；　then　love　me；　she'd　said　。　。　。　and　so　he　had。
　　So　he　had。
　　In　this　way　the　time　passed。　At　rough　hourly　intervals；　he　took　one　of　the　reeds　from　beneath　his　pillow　and　nibbled　it。　Now　his　muscles　didn't　tremble　so　badly　as　the　stuff　passed　into　his　system；　nor　his　heart　pound　so　fiercely。　The　medicine　in　the　reeds　no　longer　had　to　battle　the　Sisters'　medicine　so　fiercely；　Roland　thought；　the　reeds　were　winning。
　　The　diffused　brightness　of　the　sun　moved　across　the　white　silk　ceiling　of　the　ward；　and　at　last　the　dimness　which　always　seemed　to　hover　at　bed…level　began　to　rise。　The　long　room's　western　wall　bloomed　with　the　rose…melting…to…orange　shades　of　sunset。
　　It　was　Sister　Tamra　who　brought　him　his　dinner　that　night…soup　and　another　popkin。　She　also　laid　a　desert　lily　beside　his　hand。　She　smiled　as　she　did　it。　Her　cheeks　were　bright　with　color。　All　of　them　were　bright　with　color　today；　like　leeches　that　had　gorged　until　they　were　full　almost　to　bursting。
　　'From　your　admirer；　Jimmy；'　she　said。　'She's　so　sweet　on　ye！　The　lily　means　'Do　not　forget　my　promise。'　What　has　she　promised　ye；　Jimmy；　brother　of　Johnny？'
　　'That　she'd　see　me　again；　and　we'd　talk。'
　　Tamra　laughed　so　hard　that　the　bells　lining　her　forehead　jingled。　She　clasped　her　hands　together　in　a　perfect　ecstasy　of　glee。　'Sweet　as　honey！　Oh；　yes！'　She　bent　her　smiling　gaze　on　Roland。　'It's　sad　such　a　promise　can　never　be　kept。　Ye'll　never　see　her　again；　pretty　man。'　She　took　the　bowl。　'Big　Sister　has　decided。'　She　stood　up；　still　smiling。　'Why　not　take　that　ugly　gold　sigul　off？'
　　'I　think　not。'
　　'Yer　brother　took　his　off…look！'　She　pointed；　and　Roland　spied　the　gold　medallion　lying　far　down　the　aisle；　where　it　had　landed　when　Ralph　threw　it。
　　Sister　Tamra　looked　at　him；　still　smiling。
　　'He　decided　it　was　part　of　what　was　making　him　sick；　and　cast　it　away。　Ye'd　do　the　same；　were　ye　wise。'
　　Roland　repeated；　'I　think　not。'
　　'So；'　she　said　dismissively；　and　left　him　alone　with　the　empty　beds　glimmering　in　the　thickening　shadows。
　　Roland　hung　on；　in　spite　of　growing　sleepiness；　until　the　hot　colors　bleeding　across　the　infirmary's　western　wall　had　cooled　to　ashes。　Then　he　nibbled　one　of　the　reeds　and　felt　strength…real　strength；　not　a　jittery；　heart…thudding　substitute…bloom　in　his　body。　He　looked　toward　where　the　castaway　medallion　gleamed　in　the　last　light　and　made　a　silent　promise　to　John　Norman：　he　would　take　it　with　the　other　one　to　Norman's　kin；　if　ka　chanced　that　he　should　encounter　them　in　his　travels。
　　Feeling　pletely　easy　in　his　mind　for　the　first　time　that　day；　the　gunslinger　dozed。　When　he　awoke　it　was　full　dark。　The　doctor…bugs　were　singing　with　extraordinary　shrillness。　He　had　taken　one　of　the　reeds　out　from　under　the　pillow　and　had　begun　to　nibble　on　it　when　a　cold　voice　said；　'So…Big　Sister　was　right。　Ye've　been　keeping　secrets。'
　　Roland's　heart　seemed　to　stop　dead　in　his　chest。　He　looked　around　and　saw　Sister　Coquina　getting　to　her　feet。　She　had　crept　in　while　he　was　dozing　and　hidden　under　the　bed　on　his　right　side　to　watch　him。
　　'Where　did　ye　get　that？'　she　asked。　'Was　it…'
　　'He　got　it　from　me。'
　　Coquina　whirled　about。　Jenna　was　walking　down　the　aisle　toward　them。　Her　habit　was　gone。　She　still　wore　her　wimple　with　its　forehead…fringe　of　bells；　but　its　hem　rested　on　the　shoulders　of　a　simple　checkered　shirt。　Below　this　she　wore　jeans　and　scuffed　desert　boots。　She　had　something　in　her　hands。　It　was　too　dark　for　Roland　to　be　sure；　but　he　thought　…
　　'You；'　Sister　Coquina　whispered　with　infinite　hate。　'When　I　tell　Big　Sister…'
　　'You'll　tell　no　one　anything；'　Roland　said。
　　If　he　had　planned　his　escape　from　the　slings　that　entangled　him；　he　no　doubt　would　have　made　a　bad　business　of　it；　but；　as　always；　the　gunslinger　did　best　when　he　thought　least。　His　arms　were　free　in　a　moment；　so　was　his　left　leg。　His　right　caught　at　the　ankle；　however；　twisting；　hanging　him　up　with　his　shoulders　on　the　bed　and　his　leg　in　the　air。
　　Coquina　turned　on　him；　hissing　like　a　cat。　Her　lips　pulled　back　from　teeth　that　were　needle…sharp。　She　rushed　at　him；　her　fingers　splayed。　The　nails　at　the　ends　of　them　looked　sharp　and　ragged。
　　Roland　clasped　the　medallion　and　shoved　it　out　toward　her。　She　recoiled　from　it；　still　hissing；　and　whirled　back　to　Sister　Jenna　in　a　flare　of　white　skirt。　'I'll　do　for　ye；　ye　interfering　trull！'　she　cried　in　a　low；　harsh　voice。
　　Roland　struggled　to　free　his　leg　and　couldn't。　It　was　firmly　caught；　the　shitting　sling　actually　wrapped　around　the　ankle　somehow；　like　a　noose。
　　Jenna　raised　her　hands；　and　he　saw　he　had　been　right：　it　was　his　revolvers　she　had　brought；　holstered　and　hanging　from　the　two　old　gunbelts　he　had　worn　out　of　Gilead　after　the　last　burning。
　　'Shoot　her；　Jenna！　Shoot　her！'
　　Instead；　still　holding　the　holstered　guns　up；　Jenna　shook　her　head　as　she　had　on　the　day　when　Roland　had　persuaded　her　to　push　back　her　wimple　so　he　could　see　her　hair。　The　bells　rang　with　a　sharpness　that　seemed　to　go　into　the　gunslinger's　head　like　a　spike。
　　The　Dark　Bells。　The　sigul　of　their　ka…tet。　What　…