tg.wizardfirstrule-第133部分

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　She　pulled　her　cloak　around　herself；　against　the　gusts　of　cold　wind。　Her　face　had　resumed　once　more　the　calm　expression　that　showed　nothing；　except　that；　as　well　as　he　knew　her；　he　could　now　read　the　trace　of　pain　in　it。　〃It　would　have　been　easier　to　have　killed　myself。〃
　
　He　watched　as　she　turned　and　started　off；　then　followed　after　her。　If　she　had　told　him　in　the　beginning；　he　wondered；　would　he　still　be　with　her？　If　she　had　told　him　before　he　had　e　to　know　her；　would　he　have　been　too　afraid　to　be　near　her；　same　as　everyone　else？　Maybe　she　had　been　right　in　being　afraid　to　tell　him　sooner。　But　then；　if　she　had；　it　might　have　spared　him　what　he　was　feeling　now。
　
　Near　to　midday；　they　came　to　a　juncture　of　trails；　marked　with　a　stone　half　again　as　tall　as　he。　Richard　stopped；　studying　the　symbols　cut　into　the　polished　faces。
　
　〃What　do　they　mean？〃
　
　〃They　give　direction　to　different　towns　and　villages；　and　their　distances；〃　she　said；　warming　her　hands　under　her　armpits。　She　inclined　her　head　toward　a　trail。　〃If　we　want　to　avoid　people；　this　trail　is　best。〃
　
　〃How　much　farther？〃
　
　She　looked　at　the　stone　again。　〃I　usually　travel　the　roads　between　towns；　not　these　less…traveled　trails。　The　stone　does　not　give　the　distance　by　the　trail；　only　by　the　roads；　but　I　would　guess　a　few　more　days。〃
　
　Richard　drummed　his　fingers　on　the　hilt　of　his　sword。　〃Are　there　any　towns　near？〃
　
　She　nodded。　〃We　are　an　hour　or　two　from　Homers　Mill。　Why？〃
　
　〃We　could　save　ourselves　time　if　we　had　horses。〃
　
　She　looked　up　the　trail　toward　the　town；　as　if　she　could　some…　how　see　it。　〃Homers　Mill　is　a　lumber　town；　a　sawmill。　They　would　have　a　lot　of　horses；　but　it　may　not　be　a　good　idea。　I　have　heard　their　sympathies　lie　with　D'Hara。〃
　
　〃Why　don't　we　go　have　a　look；　if　we　had　horses；　it　could　save　us　a　day　at　least。　I　have　some　silver；　and　a　piece　or。　two　of　gold。　Maybe　we　could　buy　some。〃
　
　〃I　guess　if　we　are　careful；　we　could　go　have　a　look。　But　don't　you　dare　pull　out　any　of　your　silver　or　gold。　It　is　Westland　marked；　and　these　people　view　anyone　from　across　the　western　boundary　as　a　threat。　Stories　and　superstition。〃
　
　〃Well；　how　will　we　get　horses　then？　Steal　them？〃
　
　She　lifted　an　eyebrow。　〃Have　you　forgotten　so　soon？　You　are　with　the　Mother　Confessor。　I　have　but　to　ask。〃
　
　Richard　covered　his　displeasure　as　best　he　could　with　a　blank　face。　〃Let's　go　have　a　look。〃
　
　Homers　Mill　sat　hard　on　the　edge　of　the　Callisidrin　River；　drawing　both　power　for　the　sawmills　and　transportation　for　the　logs　and　lumber　from　the　muddy　brown　water。　Spillways　snaked　through　the　work　areas；　and　ramshackle　mill　buildings　loomed　over　the　other　structures。　Stickered　stacks　of　lumber　lay　row　upon　row　under　roofs　of　open　buildings；　and　even　more　lay　under　tarps；　waiting　for　either　barges　to　take　them　by　river　or　wagons　to　take　them　by　road。　Houses　squatted　close　together　on　the　hillside　above　the　mill；　looking　as　if　they　had　started　life　as　temporary　shelter　and　as　the　years　had　worn　on；　became　unfortunately　permanent。
　
　Even　from　a　distance；　Richard　and　Kahlan　both　knew　that　something　was　wrong。　The　mill　was　silent；　the　streets　empty。　The　whole　town　should　have　been　alive　with　activity。　There　should　have　been　people　at　the　shops；　on　the　docks；　at　the　mill；　and　in　the　streets；　but　there　was　no　sign　of　beast　or　man。　The　town　hunched　in　quiet；　except　for　some　tarps　flapping　in　the　wind；　and　a　few　squeaking　and　banging　tin　panels　on　the　mill　buildings。
　
　When　they　got　close　enough；　the　wind　brought　something；　other　than　flapping　tarps　and　banging　tin；　it　brought　the　putrid　smell　of　death。　Richard　checked　that　his　sword　was　loose　in　its　scabbard。
　
　Bodies；　puffy　and　swollen；　nearly　ready　to　burst；　stretched　but…　tons；　and　oozed　fluid　that　attracted　clouds　of　flies。　The　dead　lay　in　corners　and　up　against　buildings；　like　autumn　leaves　blown　into　piles。　Most　had　ghastly　wounds；　some　were　pierced　through　with　broken　lances。　The　silence　seemed　alive。　Doors；　smashed　in　and　broken；　hung　at　odd　angles　from　a　single　hinge；　or　lay　in　the　street　with　personal　belongings　and　broken　pieces　of　furniture。　Windows　in　every　building　were　shattered。　Some　of　the　buildings　were　nothing　more　than　cold；　charred　piles　of　beams　and　rubble。　Richard　and　Kahlan　both　held　their　cloaks　across　their　noses　and　mouths；　trying　to　shield　themselves　against　the　stench　as　their　eyes　were　pulled　to　the　dead。
　
　〃Rahl？〃　he　asked　her。
　
　She　studied　different　tumbled　bodies　from　a　distance。　〃No。　This　is　not　the　way　Rahl　kills。　This　was　a　battle。〃
　
　〃Looks　more　like　a　slaughter　to　me。〃
　
　She　nodded　her　agreement。　〃Remember　the　dead　among　the　Mud　People？　That　is　what　it　looks　like　when　Rahl　kills。　It　is　always　the　same。　This　is　different。〃
　
　They　walked　along　through　the　town；　staying　close　to　the　buildings；　away　from　the　center　of　the　street；　occasionally　having　to　step　over　the　gore。　Every　shop　was　looted；　and　what　wasn't　carried　off　was　destroyed。　From　one　shop；　a　bolt　of　pale　blue　cloth；　with　evenly　spaced　dark…　stains；　had　unwound　itself　across　the　road；　as　if　it　had　been　thrown　out　because　its　owner　had　ruined　it　in　death。　Kahlan　pulled　his　sleeve；　and　pointed。　On　the　wall　of　a　building　was　written　a　message…in　blood。　DEATH　TO
　
　ALL　WHO　RESIST　THE　WESTLAND。
　
　〃What　do　you　suppose　that　means？〃　she　whispered；　as　if　the　dead　might　hear　her。
　
　He　stared　at　the　dripping　words。　〃I　can't　even　imagine。〃　He　started　off　again；　turning　back　twice　to　frown　at　the　words　on　the　wall。
　
　Richard's　eye　was　caught　by　a　cart　sitting　in　front　of　a　grain　store。　The　cart　was　half　loaded　with　small　furniture　and　clothes；　the　wind　whipping　at　the　sleeves　of　little　dresses。　He　exchanged　a　glance　with　Kahlan。　Someone　was　left　alive；　and　it　looked　as　if　they　were　preparing　to　leave。
　
　He　stepped　carefully　through　the　empty　doorframe　of　the　grain　store；　Kahlan　close　at　his　back。　Streamers　of　sunlight　ing　through　the　door　and　window　sent　shafts　through　the　dust　inside　the　building；　falling　on　spilled　sacks　of　grain　and　broken　barrels。　Richard　stood　just　inside　the　doorway；　to　one　side；　with　Kahlan　to　the　other；　until　his　eyes　adjusted　to　the　dark。　There　were　fresh　footprints；　mostly　small　ones；　through　the　dust。　His　eyes　followed　them　behind　a　counter。　He　gripped　the　hilt　of　his　sword；　but　didn't　draw　it；　and　went　to　the　counter。　People　cowered　behind；　trembling。
　
　〃I'm　not　going　to　hurt　you；〃　he　said　in　a　gentle　voice；　〃e　out。〃
　
　〃Are　you　a　soldier　with　the　People's　Peace　Army；　here　to　help　us？〃　came　a　woman's　voice　from　behind　the　counter。
　
　Richard　and　Kahlan　frowned　at　each　other。　〃No；〃　she　said。　〃We　are　。　。　。　just　travelers；　passing　through。〃
　
　A　woman　with　a　dirty；　tearstained　face　and　short；　dark；　matted　hair　pushed　her　head　up。　Her　drab　brown　dress　was　ragged　and　torn。　Richard　took　his　hand　away　from　his　sword　so　as　not　to　frighten　her。　Her　lip　quivered；　and　her　hollow　eyes　blinked　at　them　in　the　dim　light　as　she　motioned　others　to　e　out。　There　were　six　children…five　girls　and　one　boy…another　woman；　and　an　old　man。　Once　they　were　out；　the　children　clinging　woodenly　to　the　two　women；　the　three　adults　glanced　at　Richard；　then　stared　openly　at　'　Kahn。　Their　eyes　were　wide；　and　they　all　shrank　back　as　one　against　the　wall。　Richard　frowned　in　confusion；　then　he　realized　what　they　were　staring　at。　Her　hair。
　
　The　three　adults　collapsed　to　their　knees；　heads　bowed；　each　with　their　eyes　to　the　floor；　the　children　buried　their　faces　silently　in　the　women's　skirts。　With　a　sideways　glance　at　Richard；　Kahlan　quickly　motioned　with　her　hands　for　them　to　get　up。　They　had　their　eyes　fixed　on　the　floor　and　couldn't　see　her　frantic　gesturing。
　
　〃Get　up；〃　she　said；　〃there　is　no　need　for　that。　Get　up。〃
　
　Their　heads　came　up；　confused。　They　looked　at　her　hands；　urging　them　to　get　to　their　feet。　With　great　reluctance；　they　plied。
　
　〃By　your　mand；　Mother　Confessor；〃　one　woman　said　in　a　shaking　voice。　〃Forgive　us；　Mother　Confessor；　we　。　。　。　did　not　recognize　you　。　。　。　by　your　clothes；　at　first。　Forgive　us；　we　are　only　human　people。　Forgive　us　for　。　。　。〃　Kahlan　gently　cut　her　off。