tg.stone of tears-第119章

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air　of　tailor’s　scissors　jutted　from　her　back。
　
　In　the　gloom　at　the　far　end　of　the　room　stood　another　mannequin；　in　a　fine　man’s　coat。　The　front　of　the　dark　coat　was　shredded　with　hundreds　of　small　cuts。　The　soldiers　had　evidently　used　the　mannequin　as　a　target　for　knife　throwing　while　they　waited　their　turn　on　the　woman。　Apparently；　when　they　were　finished　with　her；　they　stabbed　her　to　death　with　her　scissors。
　
　Kahlan　twisted　away　from　the　shop　to　find　herself　face…to…face　with　Chandalen。　His　was　red。　There　was　menace　in　his　eyes。
　
　‘Not　all　men　are　the　same。　I　would　cut　the　throat　of　any　man　of　mine　if　he　did　such　a　thing。’
　
　Kahlan　had　no　answer　for　him；　and　suddenly　wasn’t　in　the　mood　to　talk。　As　she　started　off　again；　she　loosened　the　mantle　at　her　neck；　needing　the　feel　of　cold　air。
　
　In　silence；　but　for　the　low；　baleful　moan　of　the　breeze　between　the　buildings；　they　slogged　past　stables　of　horses；　their　throats　all　cut；　and　past　inns　and　grand　houses；　their　cornices　high　overhead　shading　them　from　the　bright；　slanting　sunlight。　Fluted；　wooden　columns　to　each　side　of　one　door　had　been　hacked　at　with　a　sword；　seemingly　for　no　purpose　but　to　deface　the　elegance　of　the　home。
　
　It　was　colder　in　the　shade；　but　she　didn’t　care。　They　stepped　over　corpses　that　lay　facedown　in　the　snow　with　wounds　in　their　backs；　and　around　overturned　wagons　and　coaches　and　dead　horses　and　dead　dogs。　It　all　melted　into　a　meaningless　madness　of　destruction。
　
　Eyes　cast　to　the　ground　before　her；　she　trudged　on　through　the　snow。　The　cold　air　bit　into　her　flesh；　and　she　pulled　her　mantle　closed　once　more。　The　cold　was　sapping　her　of　not　only　warmth；　but　strength。　With　grim　determination　she　put　one　foot　in　front　of　the　other；　continuing　on　toward　her　destination；　hoping；　somehow；　that　she　would　never　reach　it。
　
　With　the　frozen　dead　of　Ebinissia　all　about；　she　filled　her　crushing　loneliness　with　a　silent　prayer。
　
　Please；　dear　spirits；　keep　Richard　warm。
　
　
　CHAPTER　28
　
　Naked　under　the　sun’s　fury；　the　parched；　dead　flat　ground　stretched　endlessly　before　them；　in　the　distance　offering　up　shimmering　images　to　waver　and　dance　in　the　sun’s　furnace　glare；　like　phantom　hostages　surrendered　to　an　omnipotent　foe。　Behind；　the　fractured　hills　ended　in　a　bank　of　rocky　rubble。　The　silence　was　as　oppressive　as　the　heat。
　
　Richard　wiped　sweat　from　his　brow　on　the　back　of　his　sleeve。　The　leather　of　his　saddle　creaked　as　he　shifted　his　weight　while　he　waited。　Bonnie　and　the　other　two　horses　waited；　too；　their　ears　pricked　ahead；　as　they　occasionally　pawed　the　cracked；　dry　earth　and　voiced　apprehensive　snorts。
　
　Sister　Verna　sat　motionless　atop　Jessup；　scrutinizing　the　nothingness　of　the　distance　as　if　viewing　an　event　of　great　import。　Except　for　the　way　her　brown　curls　hung　limp；　she　didn’t　appear　to　be　affected　by　the　heat。
　
　‘I　don’t　understand　this　weather。　It’s　winter；　I’ve　never　heard　of　it　being　hot　like　this　in　winter。’
　
　‘The　weather　is　different　in　different　places；’　she　murmured。
　
　‘No　it’s　not。　When　it’s　winter；　it’s　cold。　It’s　only　hot　like　this　in　high　summer。’
　
　‘Have　you　ever　seen　snow　on　mountaintops　in　the　summer？’
　
　Richard　reversed　the　positions　of　his　hands　resting　on　the　pommel。　‘Yes。　But　that’s　just　on　mountaintops。　The　air　is　colder　up　there。　We’re　not　on　a　mountaintop。’
　
　Still　she　did　not　move。　‘Not　just　mountaintops　have　different　weather。　In　the　south　the　weather　is　not　so　cold　as　it　is　in　the　north。　But　this　place　is　different　still。　It’s　like　an　inexhaustible　well　of　heat。’
　
　‘And　just　what　is　this　place？’
　
　‘The　Valley　of　the　Lost；’　she　whispered。
　
　‘Who　was　lost　in　it？’
　
　‘Those　who　created　it；　and　whoever　enters。’　At　last　she　turned　a　bit　to　peer　at　him。　‘It’s　the　end　of　the　world。　Your　world；　anyway。’
　
　He　shifted　his　weight　to　the　other　side　when　Bonnie　did　the　same。　‘If　it’s　the　end　of　the　world；　why　are　we　here？’
　
　Sister　Verna　held　her　hand　up　to　the　land　behind。　‘Just　as　there　is　Westland；　where　you　were　born；　separated　from　the　Midlands；　and　the　Midlands　from　D’Hara；　so；　too；　are　those　lands　separated　from　what　lies　on　the　far　side　of　this　place。’
　
　Richard　frowned。　‘And　what　lies　on　the　other　side　of　here？’
　
　She　turned　back　to　the　expanse　before　them。　‘You　lived　in　the　New　World。　Across　this　valley　lies　the　Old　World。’
　
　The　Old　World？　I　never　heard　of　the　Old　World。’
　
　‘Few　in　the　New　World　have。　It　has　been　sealed　away　and　forgotten。　This　valley；　the　Valley　of　the　Lost；　separates　them；　much　the　same　way　the　boundary　used　to　separate　the　three　lands　of　the　New　World。　The　last　of　the　country　we　have　been　crossing　has　been　inhospitable；　a　desert　wasteland。　Anyone　venturing　through　it　and　into　this　valley　never　returns。　People　think　there　is　nothing　beyond；　that　this　is　the　southern　end　of　the　Midlands　and　D’Hara；　with　nothing　beyond　but　what　you　see　here：　an　endless　waste；　where　one　could　die　of　thirst　and　hunger　and　you　could　have　your　bones　baked　by　the　heat　of　the　sun。’
　
　Richard　eased　Bonnie　up　next　to　the　Sister。　‘So；　what　is　beyond？　And　why　can’t　anyone　cross？　And　if　no　one　can　cross；　how　can　we？’
　
　She　looked　over　out　of　the　corner　of　her　eye。　‘Simple　questions；　but　not　simply　answered。’　She　relaxed　back　in　her　saddle　a　little。　‘The　land　between　the　New　and　the　Old　Worlds　narrows　somewhat；　with　the　sea　to　each　side。’
　
　‘The　sea？’
　
　‘You　have　never　seen　the　ocean？’
　
　Richard　shook　his　head。　‘In　Westland；　it　lies　far　to　the　south；　and　people　don’t　live　there。　Or；　so　I’ve　been　told。　I’ve　heard　others　speak　of　the　ocean；　but　I’ve　never　seen　it。　They　say　it’s　more　vast　than　any　lake　ever　imagined。’
　
　Sister　Verna　gave　him　a　little　smile。　They　speak　true。’　She　turned　ahead；　pointing　off　to　the　right。　‘Some　distance　that　way　lies　the　sea。’　She　pointed　left；　to　the　southeast。　‘Off　even　farther　in　that　direction　is　also　the　sea。　Though　the　land　is　vast　between　them；　it　is　still　the　narrowest　place　between　the　New　and　the　Old　Worlds。　Because　of　that；　a　war　was　fought　here。　A　war　between　wizards。’
　
　Richard　straightened　in　his　saddle。　‘Wizards？　What　war？’
　
　‘Yes；　wizards。　It　was　ages　ago；　when　there　were　many　wizards。　What　you　see　before　you　is　the　result　of　that　war。　It’s　all　that　remains；　as　a　reminder；　of　what　wizards　who　have　more　power　than　wisdom　can　conjure。’
　
　He　didn’t　like　the　accusing　look　she　gave　him。　‘Who　won？’
　
　At　last　she　folded　her　hands　over　the　pommel　of　her　saddle　and　let　her　shoulders　relax　a　bit。　‘No　one。　The　two　sides　were　separated　by　this　land　between　the　seas。　Though　the　fighting　may　have　stopped；　no　one　prevailed。’
　
　Richard　leaned　around　for　a　waterskin。　‘How　about　a　drink？’
　
　With　a　small　smile；　she　took　the　skin　as　he　handed　it　over　and　took　a　long　draw。　‘This　valley　is　an　example　of　what　can　happen　when　your　heart；　rather　than　your　head；　rules　your　magic。’　Her　smile　evaporated。　‘Because　of　what　they　did；　the　peoples　of　the　two　worlds　are　separated　for　all　time。　It　is　one　reason　the　Sisters　of　the　Light　work　to　teach　those　with　the　gift　…　so　they　will　not　act　out　of　foolishness。’
　
　‘What　were　they　fighting　about？’
　
　‘What　do　wizards　ever　fight　about？　They　fought　over　which　wizards　should　rule。’
　
　‘I　was　told　something　about　a　wizard’s　war　over　whether　or　not　wizards　should　rule　at　all。’
　
　She　handed　back　the　waterskin　and　wiped　her　lips　with　one　finger。　‘That　was　a　different　war；　yet　part　of　the　same。　After　this　place　separated　the　two　sides；　some　of　each　camp　were　trapped　on　the　New　World　side。　Both　groups　had　gone　to　enforce　their　rule　on　those　who　had　traveled　to　live　in　the　New　World；　and　on　those　who　had　always　lived　there。
　
　‘Once　trapped；　one　side　went　into　hiding　for　centuries　and　worked　to　build　their　strength　before　they　attempted　to　seize　power　over　all　the　New　World。　The　war　that　had　burned　long　ago　flared　again；　until　their　force　was　defeated；　except　for　a　few　who　fled　into　their　stronghold　in　D’Hara。’　She　lifted　an　eyebrow　to　him。　‘Kin　of　yours；　I　believe。’