sk.everythingseventual-第48部分

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　　'Thanks　to　you。'　How　long　he　would　stay　strong　Roland　didn't　know　。　。　。　and　right　now　it　wasn't　a　question　that　mattered。　He　saw　Jenna　snatch　up　two　of　the　reeds…in　his　struggle　to　escape　the　slings；　they　had　scattered　all　over　the　head　of　the　bed…and　then　they　were　hurrying　up　the　aisle；　away　from　the　bugs　and　from　Sister　Coquina；　whose　cries　were　now　failing。
　　Roland　buckled　on　his　guns　and　tied　them　down　without　breaking　stride。
　　They　passed　only　three　beds　on　each　side　before　reaching　the　flap　of　the　tent　。　。　。　and　it　was　a　tent；　he　saw；　not　a　vast　pavilion。　The　silk　walls　and　ceiling　were　fraying　canvas；　thin　enough　to　let　in　the　light　of　a　three…quarters　Kissing　Moon。　And　the　beds　weren't　beds　at　all；　but　only　a　double　row　of　shabby　cots。
　　He　turned　and　saw　a　black；　writhing　hump　on　the　floor　where　Sister　Coquina　had　been。　At　the　sight　of　her；　Roland　was　struck　by　an　unpleasant　thought。
　　'I　forgot　John　Norman's　medallion！'　A　keen　sense　of　regret…almost　of　mourning…went　through　him　like　wind。
　　Jenna　reached　into　the　pocket　of　her　jeans　and　brought　it　out。　It　glimmered　in　the　moonlight。
　　'I　picked　it　up　off　the　floor。'
　　He　didn't　know　which　made　him　gladder…the　sight　of　the　medallion　or　the　sight　of　it　in　her　hand。　It　meant　she　wasn't　like　the　others。
　　Then；　as　if　to　dispel　that　notion　before　it　got　too　firm　a　hold　on　him；　she　said；　'Take　it；　Roland…I　can　hold　it　no　more。'　And；　as　he　took　it；　he　saw　unmistakable　marks　of　charring　on　her　fingers。
　　He　took　her　hand　and　kissed　each　burn。
　　'Thankee…sai；'　she　said；　and　he　saw　she　was　crying。　'Thankee；　dear。　To　be　kissed　so　is　lovely；　worth　every　pain。　Now　。　。　。'
　　Roland　saw　her　eyes　shift；　and　followed　them。　Here　were　bobbing　lights　descending　a　rocky　path。　Beyond　them　he　saw　the　building　where　the　Little　Sisters　had　been　living…not　a　convent　but　a　ruined　hacienda　that　looked　a　thousand　years　old。　There　were　three　candles；　as　they　drew　closer；　Roland　saw　that　there　were　only　three　sisters。　Mary　wasn't　among　them。
　　He　drew　his　guns。
　　'Oooo；　it's　a　gunslinger…man　he　is！'　Louise。
　　'A　scary　man！'　Michela。
　　'And　he's　found　his　ladylove　as　well　as　his　shooters！'　Tamra。
　　'His　slut…whore！'　Louise。
　　Laughing　angrily。　Not　afraid　。　。　。　at　least；　not　of　his　weapons。
　　'Put　them　away；'　Jenna　told　him；　and　when　she　looked；　saw　that　he　already　had。
　　The　others；　meanwhile；　had　drawn　closer。
　　'Ooo；　see；　she　cries！'　Tamra。
　　'Doffed　her　habit；　she　has！'　Michela。　'Perhaps　it's　her　broken　vows　she　cries　for。'
　　'Why　such　tears；　pretty？'　Louise。
　　'Because　he　kissed　my　fingers　where　they　were　burned；'　Jenna　said。　'I've　never　been　kissed　before。　It　made　me　cry。'
　　'Ooooo！'
　　'Luv…ly！'
　　'Next　he'll　stick　his　thing　in　her！　Even　luv…lier！'
　　Jenna　bore　their　japes　with　no　sign　of　anger。　When　they　were　done；　she　said；　'I'm　going　with　him。　Stand　aside。'　They　gaped　at　her；　counterfeit　laughter　disappearing　in　shock。
　　'No！'　Louise　whispered。　'Are　ye　mad？　Ye　know　what'll　happen！'
　　'No；　and　neither　do　you；'　Jenna　said。　'Besides；　I　care　not。'　She　half…turned　and　held　her　hand　out　to　the　mouth　of　the　ancient　hospital　tent。　It　was　a　faded　olive…drab　in　the　moonlight；　with　an　old　red　cross　drawn　on　its　roof。　Roland　wondered　how　many　towns　the　Sisters　had　been　to　with　this　tent；　which　was　so　small　and　plain　on　the　outside；　so　huge　and　gloriously　dim　on　the　inside。　How　many　towns　and　over　how　many　years。
　　Now；　cramming　the　mouth　of　it　in　a　black；　shiny　tongue；　were　the　doctor…bugs。　They　had　stopped　their　singing。　Their　silence　was　terrible。
　　'Stand　aside　or　I'll　have　them　on　ye；'　Jenna　said。
　　'Ye　never　would！'　Sister　Michela　cried　in　a　low；　horrified　voice。
　　'Aye。　I've　already　set　them　on　Sister　Coquina。　She's　a　part　of　their　medicine；　now。'
　　Their　gasp　was　like　cold　wind　passing　through　dead　trees。　Nor　was　all　of　that　dismay　directed　toward　their　own　precious　hides。　What　Jenna　had　done　was　clearly　far　outside　their　reckoning。
　　'Then　you're　damned；'　Sister　Tamra　said。
　　'Such　ones　to　speak　of　damnation！　Stand　aside。'
　　They　did。　Roland　walked　past　them　and　they　shrank　away　from　him　。　。　。　but　they　shrank　from　her　more。
　　'Damned？'　he　asked　after　they　had　skirted　the　hacienda　and　reached　the　path　beyond　it。　The　Kissing　Moon　glimmered　above　a　tumbled　scree　of　rocks。　In　its　light　Roland　could　see　a　small　black　opening　low　on　the　scarp。　He　guessed　it　was　the　cave　the　Sisters　called　Thoughtful　House。　'What　did　they　mean；　damned？'
　　'Never　mind。　All　we　have　to　worry　about　now　is　Sister　Mary。　I　like　it　not　that　we　haven't　seen　her。'
　　She　tried　to　walk　faster；　but　he　grasped　her　arm　and　turned　her　about。　He　could　still　hear　the　singing　of　the　bugs；　but　faintly；　they　were　leaving　the　place　of　the　Sisters　behind。　Eluria；　too；　if　the　pass　in　his　head　was　still　working；　he　thought　the　town　was　in　the　other　direction。　The　husk　of　the　town；　he　amended。
　　'Tell　me　what　they　meant。'
　　'Perhaps　nothing。　Ask　me　not；　Roland…what　good　is　it？　'Tis　done；　the　bridge　burned。　I　can't　go　back。　Nor　would　if　I　could。'　She　looked　down；　biting　her　lip；　and　when　she　looked　up　again；　Roland　saw　fresh　tears　falling　on　her　cheeks。　'I　have　supped　with　them。　There　were　times　when　I　couldn't　help　it；　no　more　than　you　could　help　drinking　their　wretched　soup；　no　matter　if　you　knew　what　was　in　it。'
　　Roland　remembered　John　Norman　saying　A　man　has　to　eat　。　。　。　a　woman；　too。　He　nodded。
　　'I'd　go　no　farther　down　that　road。　If　there's　to　be　damnation；　let　it　be　of　my　choosing；　not　theirs。　My　mother　meant　well　by　bringing　me　back　to　them；　but　she　was　wrong。'　She　looked　at　him　shyly　and　fearfully　。　。　。　but　met　his　eyes。　'I'd　go　beside　ye　on　yer　road；　Roland　of　Gilead。　For　as　long　as　I　may；　or　as　long　as　ye'd　have　me。'
　　'You're　wele　to　your　share　of　my　way；'　he　said。　'And　I　am…'
　　Blessed　by　your　pany；　he　would　have　finished；　but　before　he　could；　a　voice　spoke　from　the　tangle　of　moonshadow　ahead　of　them；　where　the　path　at　last　climbed　out　of　the　rocky；　sterile　valley　in　which　the　Little　Sisters　had　practiced　their　glamours。
　　'It's　a　sad　duty　to　stop　such　a　pretty　elopement；　but　stop　it　I　must。'
　　Sister　Mary　came　from　the　shadows。　Her　fine　white　habit　with　its　bright　red　rose　had　reverted　to　what　it　really　was：　the　shroud　of　a　corpse。　Caught；　hooded　in　its　grimy　folds；　was　a　wrinkled；　sagging　face　from　which　two　black　eyes　stared。　They　looked　like　rotted　dates。　Below　them；　exposed　by　the　thing's　smile；　four　great　incisors　gleamed。
　　Upon　the　stretched　skin　of　Sister　Mary's　forehead；　bells　tinkled　。　。　。　but　not　the　Dark　Bells；　Roland　thought。　There　was　that。
　　'Stand　clear；'　Jenna　said。　'Or　I'll　bring　the　can　tam　on　ye。'
　　'No；'　Sister　Mary　said；　stepping　closer；　'ye　won't。　They'll　not　stray　so　far　from　the　others。　Shake　your　head　and　ring　those　damned　bells　until　the　clappers　fall　out；　and　still　they'll　never　e。'
　　Jenna　did　as　bid；　shaking　her　head　furiously　from　side　to　side。　The　Dark　Bells　rang　piercingly；　but　without　that　extra；　almost　psychic　tone…quality　that　had　gone　through　Roland's　head　like　a　spike。　And　the　doctor…bugs…what　Jenna　had　called　the　can　tam…did　not　e。
　　Smiling　ever　more　broadly　（Roland　had　an　idea　Mary　herself　hadn't　been　pletely　sure　they　wouldn't　e　until　the　experiment　was　made）；　the　corpse…woman　closed　in　on　them；　seeming　to　float　above　the　ground。　Her　eyes　flicked　toward　him。　'And　put　that　away；'　she　said。
　　Roland　looked　down　and　saw　that　one　of　his　guns　was　in　his　hand。　He　had　no　memory　of　drawing　it。
　　'Unless　'tis　been　blessed　or　dipped　in　some　sect's　holy　wet…blood；　water；　semen…it　can't　harm　such　as　me；　gunslinger。　For　I　am　more　shade　than　substance　。　。　。　yet　still　the　equal　to　such　as　yerself；　for　all　that。'
　　She　thought　he　would　try　shooting　her；　anyway；　he　saw　it　in　her　eyes。　Those　shooters　are　all　ye　have；　her　eyes　said。　Without　em；　you　might　as　well　be　back　in　the　tent　we　dreamed　around　ye；　caught　up　in　our　slings　and　awaiting　our　pleasure。
　　Instead　of　shooting；　he　dropped　the　revolver　back　into　its　holster　and　launched　himself　at　her　with　his　hands　out。　Sister　Mary　uttered　a　scream　that　was　mostly　surprise；　but　it　was　not　a　lo