tg.stone of tears-第112部分

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　CHAPTER　54
　
　In　the　core　of　the　Palace　of　the　Prophets；　they　began　their　descent　down　into　the　vaults。　The　stairways　on　the　upper　levels　were　elegant。　Lower　down；　the　stairs　became　utilitarian　stone；　with　their　leading　edges　worn　round　and　smooth。　The　maidservants　he　had　seen　on　the　upper　levels　were　nowhere　to　be　seen。
　
　Paneled　walls　gave　way　to　stone。　In　some　places　he　had　to　duck　under　huge　beams。　Lamps　were　no　longer　stationed　on　the　walls；　but；　instead；　widely　spaced　torches　lit　the　way。　Sounds　of　palace　life　were　left　far　behind；　to　be　replaced　by　dead　silence。　Some　of　the　hallways　were　wet　with　leaking　water。
　
　‘What’s　in　these　vaults？’　Richard　asked。
　
　‘The　books　of　prophecy。　Books　of　history；　and　records　of　the　palace　are　also　kept　there。’
　
　‘Why　are　they　way　down　here？’
　
　‘For　protection。　Prophecies　are　dangerous　to　the　untrained　mind。　All　novices　study　books　of　prophecy；　but　only　certain　Sisters　are　permitted　to　read　them　all；　and　work　with　them。　Young　wizards　who　show　that　their　gift　gives　them　an　aptitude　for　prophecy　are　taught　by　these　Sisters。
　
　‘There　are　a　few　young　men　who　work　and　study　in　the　vaults；　but　Warren　is　to　the　vaults　what　Jedidiah　is　to　other　forms　of　magic。　Every　wizard　has　a　specialty。　We　will　work　with　you　to　discover　what　your　innate　ability　is。　Until　we　can　learn　this；　it　will　be　hard　to　take　your　training　very　far。’
　
　‘Sister　Verna　told　me　something　about　that。　So；　what　do　you　think　my　talent　is？’
　
　‘Usually；　we　can　tell　by　the　personality　of　the　boy。　Some　like　to　work　with　their　hands；　and　end　up　making　things　of　magic。　Some　like　to　help　the　sick　or　injured；　and　bee　healers。　Things　like　that。　We　can　usually　tell。’
　
　‘So　what　about　me？’
　
　She　glanced　briefly　in　his　direction。　‘None　of　us　has　ever　seen　anyone　like　you　before。　We　have　no　idea；　yet。’　Pasha’s　face　brightened。　‘But　we　will。’
　
　A　huge；　round　stone　door；　as　thick　as　Richard　was　tall；　stood　open　in　the　gloom。　Beyond　it　were　rooms　carved　from　the　bedrock　that　the　palace　sat　atop。　Lamps　did　little　to　brighten　the　place。　There　were　a　number　of　long；　timeworn　tables　with　books　and　papers　scattered　about　on　them；　and　shelves　in　rows　that　extended　into　the　distance　to　each　side。　Two　women　sat　at　the　tables；　taking　notes　as　they　read　by　the　light　of　candles　set　close。
　
　One　of　them　peered　up　and　addressed　Pasha。　‘What　are　you　doing　down　here；　child？’
　
　Pasha　curtsied。　‘We　came　to　see　Warren；　Sister。’
　
　‘Warren？　Why？’
　
　Just　then；　Warren　came　scurrying　out　of　the　darkness。　‘It’s　all　right；　Sister　Becky。　I　asked　them　to　e。’
　
　‘Well；　the　next　time；　please　let　someone　know　in　advance。’
　
　‘Yes；　Sister；　I　will。’
　
　Warren　burrowed　between　the　two　of　them　and　took　their　arms；　leading　them　into　the　shelves。　When　he　realized　he　was　touching　Pasha　he　jerked　his　hand　away　and　turned　red。
　
　‘You　look　。。。　dazzling；　Pasha。’
　
　‘Why；　thank　you；　Mole。’　She　flushed　red　herself。　She　put　a　hand　to　his　shoulder。　‘I’m　sorry；　Warren　。。。　I　didn’t　mean　anything　by　that。　I　meant　to　call　you　Warren。’
　
　He　smiled。　‘It’s　all　right；　Pasha。　I　know　people　call　me　the　Mole。　They　think　it　a　pejorative；　but　I　take　it　as　a　pliment。　You　see；　a　mole　can　find　its　way　in　the　dark；　where　others　are　blind。　That　is　much　like　what　I　do；　I　find　the　way　where　others　see　nothing。’
　
　Pasha　sighed　in　relief。　‘I’m　glad；　Warren。　Mole；　did　you　hear　that　Jedidiah　fell　down　a　flight　of　stairs　and　broke　his　leg？’
　
　‘Really？’　He　searched　her　eyes。　‘Maybe　the　Creator　was　trying　to　teach　him　that　when　you　hold　your　nose　so　high　in　the　air；　you　can’t　see　where　you　are　going。’
　
　‘I　don’t　think　Jedidiah　paid　any　heed　to　the　Creator’s　lessons；’　Pasha　said。　‘I　heard　tell　that　he　was　so　angry　he　burned　a　prized　carpet　to　ash。’
　
　Warren　still　held　her　eyes。　‘You　are　the　one　who　should　be　angry；　not　Jedidiah。　He　said　cruel　things　to　you。　No　one　should　say　cruel　things　to　you。’
　
　‘He　is　usually　kind　to　me；　but　I　admit；　I　did　look　a　mess。’
　
　‘Some　of　these　books　look　a　mess　to　people；　but　it　is　what’s　inside　that　matters；　not　the　dust　on　their　covers。’
　
　Pasha　blushed。　‘Why；　thank　you；　Mole　。。。　I　think。’
　
　Warren　looked　to　Richard。　‘I　didn’t　know　if　you　would　really　e。　Most　people　say　they　will；　but　they　never　do。　I’m　so　pleased　you　did。　e　this　way。　Pasha；　I’m　afraid　you　must　wait　here。’
　
　‘What！’　She　leaned　forward；　and　Richard　thought　that　maybe　her　breasts　might　spill　out　if　she　didn’t　straighten　up。　‘I’m　going；　too。’
　
　Warren’s　eyes　widened。　‘But　I　must　take　him　into　one　of　the　back　rooms。　You　are　a　novice。　Novices　are　not　allowed。’
　
　She　smiled　warmly　as　she　did　straighten　up。　‘Mole；　if　a　novice　is　not　allowed；　how　could　a　new　student　be　allowed？’
　
　Warren’s　eyes　narrowed。　‘He　is　in　the　prophecies。　If　the　prophets　saw　fit　to　write　about　him；　they　could　hardly　intend　he　not　see　it。’
　
　Warren　seemed　considerably　more　confident　down　here　in　his　element　than　he　had　been　up　in　the　palace。　He　stood　his　ground　with　confidence。　Pasha　rubbed　his　shoulder。　He　glanced　down　at　the　hand。
　
　‘Warren；　you’re　the　Mole；　you　show　others　the　way。　I’m　the　one　in　charge　of　Richard；　I　show　him　the　way。　I　would　be　neglecting　my　duty　if　I　allowed　him　to　go　somewhere　without　me　this　soon。　I’m　sure　you　can　make　an　exception　for　me。　Can’t　you；　Warren？　It’s　to　help　Richard；　to　help　understand　the　prophecy　and　how　he　is　to　serve　the　Creator。　Isn’t　that　what’s　important？’
　
　Warren　finally　took　his　eyes　from　her　and　told　them　to　wait。　He　went　off　to　the　two　Sisters　and　spoke　with　them　in　hushed　tones。　He　finally　came　back　wearing　a　smile。
　
　‘Sister　Becky　said　it　would　be　permitted。　I　told　her　you　understand　a　bit　of　High　D’Haran。　In　case　she　asks；　say　you　do。’
　
　‘What’s　High　D’Haran？　Warren；　you　want　me　to　lie　to　a　Sister！’
　
　‘I’m　sure　she　will　not　ask。’　Warren　turned　his　face　away。　‘I　told　the　lie　for　you；　Pasha；　so　you　would　not　have　to。’
　
　She　leaned　closer　to　him。　‘Warren；　if　you’re　caught　telling　lies　about　such　things；　you　know　what　they　will　do。’
　
　He　gave　her　a　small；　haunted　smile。　‘I　know。’
　
　‘What　will　they　do？’　Richard　asked；　suddenly　suspicious。
　
　Warren　waved　impatiently。　‘Never　mind。　You　two　e　along。’
　
　They　had　to　hurry　after　him　as　he　scurried　off　into　the　darkness。　They　went　past　rows　of　shelves　placed　tight　together；　ing　at　last　to　a　solid　wall　of　rock。　Warren　put　his　hand　to　a　metal　plate；　and　part　of　the　wall　moved　away；　revealing　another　chamber　beyond。　Inside　the　small　room　sat　a　table　and　maybe　a　dozen　rows　of　shelves。　Four　lamps　made　it　seem　bright　inside；　by　parison。
　
　Inside；　Warren　touched　another　plate　and　the　section　of　wall　slid　closed；　entombing　them　in　stone　and　silence。　He　pulled　out　a　chair　for　Pasha　and　had　Richard　sit　to　her　right。　Finally；　he　pulled　a　leatherbound　book　from　the　shelves　and　carefully　placed　it　before　Richard。
　
　‘Please　don’t　touch　it；’　Warren　said。　‘It’s　very　old　and　fragile。　Of　late；　it　has　been　getting　more　use　than　usual。　Let　me　turn　the　pages。’
　
　‘Who’s　been　using　it？’　Richard　asked。
　
　‘The　Prelate。’　A　smile　twitched　across　Warren’s　lips。　‘Whenever　she　is　to　e　down　here；　her　two　big　guards　e　first　and　make　everyone　leave。　They　clear　the　vaults；　so　the　Prelate　can　have　the　place　to　herself；　and　people　won’t　know　what　she　reads。’
　
　‘Her　big　guards？’　Pasha　asked。　‘You　mean　the　two　Sisters　in　her　outer　office？’
　
　‘Yes；’　Warren　said。　‘Sister　Ulicia；　and　Sister　Finella。’
　
　‘We　saw　them　today；’　Richard　said。　They　didn’t　look　that　big　to　me。’
　
　Warren　lowered　his　voice　meaningfully。　‘If　you　ever　cross　them；　you　will　think　otherwise。　They　will　seem　very　big；　indeed。’
　
　Richard　took　pause　at　Warren’s　expression。　‘If　the　place　is　cleared　out；　how　do　you　know　she　has　been　reading　this　book？’
　
　‘I　know。’　He　turned　to　the　book　on　the　table。　‘I　know。　She　has　been　doing　most　of　her　reading　in　this　room；　of　late。　I　live　with　these　books。　When　someone　touches　them；　I　can　tell。　You　see　this　smudge　in　the　dust？　It’s　not　mine。　It’s　the　Prelate’s。’
　
　Warren　carefully　lifted　open　the　cover　and；　with　both　hands　giving　support；　turned　the　yellowed　pages。　Richard　didn’t　recognize　any　of　the　words；　or　some　of　the　letters　for　that　matter。　On　one　of　the　pages　that　Warren　flipped；　Richard　thought　he　recognized　something：　a　drawing。　It　sparked　a　deep　memory。　Warren　flipped　over　more　pages；　finally　stopping。　He　leaned　over　Richard’s　shoulder；　pointing。
　
　‘This　is　the　prophecy　you　spoke　of。’　Warren　moved　around　to　the　right　side　of　the　table。　This　is　the　original；　in　the　prophet’s　own　hand。　Few　have　ever　seen　it。　Do　you　understand　High　D’Haran？’
　
　‘No。　It　just　looks　like　scribbling　to　me。’　Richard　glanced　over　the　meaningless　writing。　‘You　said　there　was　argument　over　its　meaning。’
　
　Warren’s　eyes　had　an　intense　gleam。　There　is。　You　see；　this　is　a　very　old　prophecy；　perhaps　as　old　as　the　palace；　maybe　older。　This　is　the　original　prophecy。　It’s　in　High　D’Haran；　as　is　everything　in　this　room。　Very　few　people　understand　High　D’Haran。’
　
　Richard　nodded。　‘So　people　have　only　read　the　translations；　and　there　is　reason　to　believe　that　those　translations　may　not　be　accurate。’
　
　‘You　understand；’　Warren　whispered。　His　movements　became　more　lively。　‘Yes；　yes；　you　see　the　problem。　Most　don’t。　Most　think　one　thing　in　one　language　must　mean　a　certain　thing　in　another。　In　order　to　plete　the　translation；　they　settle　on　an　interpretation　that　fits　their　view　of　the　meaning；　but　in　so　doing；　they　create　a　conspectus　that　may　or　may　not　be　the　meaning　of　the　prophecy。’
　
　‘But　that　doesn’t　take　into　account　possible　different　meanings；’　Richard　said。　‘So　when　they　translate　it；　they　give　it　only　one　version。　They　can’t　translate　its　ambiguity。’
　
　Warren　thrust　himself　forward　in　excitement。　‘Yes！　You　have　it！　That’s　what　they　can’t　understand；　and　so　they　argue　over　the　various　translations；　as　if　there　is　a　right　way　and　a　wrong　way　to　do　it。　But　this　is　High　D’Haran　。。。’
　
　Warren’s　words　trailed　off。　Richard　was　staring　at　the　page。　The　images　there　were　drawing　him　in。　It　was　almost　as　if　they　were　murmuring　to　him。　He　had　never　seen　such　words　before；　but　somehow　they　resonated　with　something　deep　within　him。
　
　His　hand　slowly　reached　out；　drawn　to　one　of　the　words。　His　finger　came　to　rest　on　it。
　
　‘This　one；’　Richard　whispered；　as　if　from　a　trance。　The　strokes　of　the　letters　seemed　to　lift　from　the　page；　as　if　alive；　and　coil　around　his　finger；　the　dark　lines　caressing；　fondling；　with　intimate　familiarity。　Before　his　eyes；　too；　floated　the　image　of　the　Sword　of　Truth。
　
　Warren’s　white　face　came　up　from　the　book。　‘Drauka；’　he　whispered。　That’s　the　word　that　is　the　center　of　the　controversy。　Fuer　grissa　ost　drauka　…　the　bnnger　of　death。’
　
　Pasha　leaned　over。　‘So　what’s　the　controversy？　You　mean　those　words　can　be　translated　differently？’
　
　Warren　made　a　vague　gesture　with　his　hand。　‘Well；　yes；　and　no。　That’s　the　literal　translation　of　the　words。　It’s　their　meaning　that　is　in　dispute。’
　
　Richard　pulled　his　hand　back。　He　banished　the　image　of　the　sword。　‘Death。　It　has　different　meanings。’
　
　Warren　practically　laid　on　the　table　as　he　leaned　over。　‘Yes！　You　understand！’
　
　‘Death　is　plain　as　pie；’　Pasha　said。
　
　Warren　straightened　and　rubbed　his　hands　together。　‘No；　Pasha。　Not　in　High　D’Haran。　The　weapon　the　Sisters　carry；　the　dacra；　its　name　es　from　this　word。　Drauka　means　death；　as　in　dead；　like　if　I　were　to　say　‘the　mriswith　Richard　killed　is　dead。’　Drauka。　Dead。　But　it　has　other　meanings；　too。　Drauka　also　is　a　word　that　represents　the　souls　of　the　dead。’
　
　Pasha　leaned　forward　with　a　frown。　‘Are　you　saying　that　drauka；　in　that　sense；　can　make　it　mean　‘the　bringer　of　souls’？’
　
　‘No；’　Richard　said。　He　whispered　the　second　meaning　of　the　word。　‘Spirits。　The　bringer　of　spirits。’
　
　‘Yes；’　Warren　said　in　a　quiet　voice。　That　is　the　second　interpretation。’
　
　‘How　many　of　these　different　meanings　to　drauka　are　there？’　Pasha　asked。
　
　Three；　Richard　thought。
　
　Three；’　Warren　said。
　
　Richard　knew　the　third。　The　underworld；’　he　whispered　as　he　stared　at　the　word　drauka　on　the　page。　The　place　of　the　dead。　That’s　the　third　meaning　of　drauka。’
　
　Pale　as　a　spirit；　Warren　leaned　toward　him。　‘But　you　Won’t　understand　D’Haran？’　Richard　slowly　shook　his　mead；　his　eyes　fixed　on　the　page。　Warren’s　tongue　darted　out　to　wet　his　lips。　‘Please　tell　me　you　don’t　have　D’Haran　blood。’
　
　‘My　father　was　Darken　Rahl；’　Richard　said　softly。　‘He　was　the　wizard　who　ruled　D’Hara；　and　before　him；　my　grand…father；　Panis。’
　
　‘Dear　Creator；’　Warren　whispered。
　
　Pasha　put　a　hand　to　Richard’s　arm　as　she　leaned　toward　them　both。　‘Underworld？　How　could　it　mean　underworld？’
　
　‘Because；’　Warren　said；　‘the　underworld　is　the　world　of　the　dead。’
　
　Her　brow　knit　tighter。　‘But　how　could　it　mean　‘the　bringer　of　the　underworld’？　How　can　you　bring　the　underworld？’
　
　Richard　stared　blankly　ahead。　‘You　tear　the　veil。’　The　silence　echoed　around　the　stone　room。　Pasha　looked　from　one　face　to　the　other。　She　finally　broke　the　silence。　‘But　I　was　taught　that　for　a　foreign　word　in　a　prophecy　that　had　different　shades　of　meaning；　you　had　only　to　inter…pret　it　in　context。　It　should　be　a　simple　matter　of　seeing　how　it　is　used　to　decipher　its　meaning。’
　
　Warren　lifted　an　eyebrow。　That’s　what　the　argument　is　about。　You　see；　in　this　prophecy；　it　speaks　of　things　that　could　pertain　to　each　of　the　three　possible　meanings　of　the　word　drauka。　Depending　on　which　meaning　was　intended；　it　changes　the　meaning　of　the　prophecy。　That　is　why　it　cannot　be　interpreted　with　surety。　It’s　like　a　dog　chasing　his　tail。　The　more　you　try；　the　more　you　just　end　up　going　round　and　round。
　
　This　is　why　I’m　so　anxious　to　know　the　intended　meaning　of　the　word　drauka。　If　I　could　know　that；　then　I　might　be　able　to　decipher　the　rest　of　the　prophecy　accurately　for　the　first　time。　I　would　be　the　first　in　three　thousand　years　to　understand　it。’
　
　Richard　pushed　his　chair　away　from　the　table。　‘Well；　as　I　said；　I’m　not　very　good　with　riddles。’　He　forced　himself　to　smile。　‘But　I　promise　to　think　on　it。’
　
　Warren　brightened。　‘Would　you？　I　would　be　so　appreciative　if　you　would　be　able　to　help　me。’
　
　Richard　squeezed　Warren’s　shoulder。　‘You　have　my　word。’
　
　Pasha　rose。　‘Well；　I　guess　we　better　get　to　Richard’s　lesson。　It’s　getting　late。’
　
　‘Thank　you　both　for　ing。　I　rarely　have　visitors。’
　
　Pasha　leading；　the　three　of　them　went　toward　the　door。
　
　As　she　passed　through　the　doorway；　Richard　slapped　his　hand　to　the　metal　plate　on　the　wall。
　
　The　door　grated　closed。　Pasha　beat　her　fists　to　the　stone；　as　the　slit　had　bee　too　small　for　her　to　e　back　through。　She　shouted　for　them　to　open　the　door。　As　the　stone　sealed　closed；　her　words　were　cut　off；　leaving　Richard　and　Warren　in　silence。
　
　Warren　stared