tg.stone of tears-第118部分

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all　the　more　inadequate。
　
　Grabbing　both　brass　levers；　she　threw　the　tall；　mahogany　doors　open　and　marched　into　the　council　chambers。
　
　A　huge　dome　capped　the　enormous　room。　At　the　far　end；　the　main　vault　was　decorated　with　an　ornate　fresco　celebrating　the　glory　of　Magda　Searus；　the　first　Mother　Confessor。　Her　fingers　were　touching　the　back　of　the　hand　of　her　wizard；　Merritt；　who　had　laid　down　his　life　to　protect　her。　Together；　now；　for　all　time　in　the　colorful　fresco；　the　two　oversaw　the　Mother　Confessors　who　followed　and　sat　in　the　First　Chair；　and　their　wizards。
　
　Between　the　colossal　gold　capitals　of　the　columns　thrusting　up　around　the　room　were　sinuous；　polished　mahogany　railings　at　the　edge　of　balconies　that　overlooked　the　elegant　chamber。　The　arched　openings；　set　at　intervals　around　the　room　and　leading　up　to　the　balconies；　were　decorated　with　sculpted　stuccos　of　heroic　scenes。　Beyond　were　windows　looking　out　over　the　courtyards。　Round　windows　around　the　lower　edge　of　the　dome　also　let　light　into　the　glistening　chamber。　At　the　far　end　was　the　semicircular　dais　where　the　councilors　sat；　behind　an　elaborate；　curved　desk。　The　opulent　First　Chair　in　the　center　was　the　tallest。
　
　A　clump　of　men　were　gathered　around　the　First　Chair。　By　the　numbers；　Kahlan　judged　about　half　the　council　to　be　present。　As　she　strode　across　long　swaths　of　sunlight　on　the　patterned　marble　floor；　the　heads　began　to　follow　her　progress。
　
　Someone　was　sitting　in　the　First　Chair。　Although　not　enforced　in　recent　times；　it　was　a　capital　offense　for　a　councilor　to　take　the　First　Chair；　as　it　was　considered　tantamount　to　a　declaration　of　revolution。　The　conversation　hushed　as　she　approached。
　
　It　was　High　Prince　Fyren；　of　Kelton；　sitting　in　the　chair。　His　feet　were　up　on　the　desk；　and　he　didn’t　take　them　down　as　he　watched　her　draw　near。　His　eyes　were　on　her；　but　he　was　listening　to　a　man　with　smoothed…down　dark　hair　and　beard；　streaked　with　a　touch　of　gray；　leaning　over　whispering　to　him。　The　man’s　hands　were　in　the　opposite　sleeves　of　his　plain　robes。　Strange；　she　thought；　for　an　advisor　to　be　dressed　so；　like　a　wizard。
　
　Prince　Fyren　lifted　his　eyebrows　in　delight。　‘Mother　Confessor！’　With　deliberate　care　he　took　his　polished　boots　down　and　came　to　his　feet。　He　put　his　hands　to　the　desk　and　leaned　over；　looking　down。　‘So　good　to　see　you！’
　
　Before；　Kahlan　had　always　had　a　wizard；　now；　she　had　none。　No　protection。　She　could　not　afford　to　appear　timid　or　vulnerable。
　
　She　glared　up　at　Prince　Fyren。　‘If　I　ever　again　catch　you　in　the　chair　of　the　Mother　Confessor；　I　will　kill　you。’
　
　He　straightened　with　a　smirk。　‘You　would　use　your　power　on　a　councilor？’
　
　‘I　will　slit　your　throat　with　my　knife；　if　I　have　to。’
　
　The　man　in　the　plain　robes　watched　her　with　unmoving　dark　eyes。　The　other　councilors　blanched。
　
　Prince　Fyren　pulled　his　dark　blue　coat　open　and　rested　a　hand　on　his　hip。　‘Mother　Confessor；　I　meant　no　offense。　You　have　been　gone　for　a　long　time。　We　all　thought　you　were　dead。　There　has　been　no　Confessor　in　the　palace　for　。。。　what？’　He　looked　to　a　few　of　the　other　men。　‘Four；　five；　six　months？’　Hand　still　on　his　hip；　he　held　his　other　out　and　gave　a　bow。　‘I　meant　no　offense；　Mother　Confessor。　Your　chair　is　returned　to　you；　of　course。’
　
　Kahlan　eyed　the　remaining　men。　‘It　is　late。　The　council　will　meet　in　full　session　first　thing　in　the　morning。　Every　councilor　will　be　present。　The　Midlands　is　at　war。’
　
　Prince　Fyren　lifted　an　eyebrow。　‘War？　On　whose　authority？　We　have　not　discussed　such　a　grave　matter。’
　
　Kahlan　swept　her　gaze　over　the　councilors；　letting　it　finally　settle　on　Prince　Fyren。　‘On　my　authority　as　the　Mother　Confessor。’　Whispering　broke　out　among　the　men。　Prince　Fyren　never　let　his　eyes　leave　hers。　When　she　glowered　at　the　men　who　were　whispering；　it　sputtered　out。　‘I　want　every　councilor　here；　first　thing　in　the　morning。　You　are　adjourned；　for　now；　gentlemen。’
　
　Kahlan　turned　on　her　heel　and　marched　from　the　room。
　
　She　didn’t　recognize　any　of　the　guards　she　saw　throughout　the　palace；　but　then　she　wouldn’t；　Zedd　had　told　her　before　how　most　of　the　Home　Guard　had　been　killed　in　the　fall　of　Aydindril　to　D’Hara。　She　missed　the　old　faces。
　
　The　center　of　the　Confessors’　Palace　in　Aydindril　was　dominated　by　a　monumental　eight…branched　staircase；　lit；　from　four　stories　overhead；　by　natural　light　that　came　through　the　glass　roof。　The　vast　square　was　surrounded　at　midlevel　by　arcaded　corridors；　their　arched　openings　separated　by　polished　columns　of　wildly　variegated　gold　and　green　marble　standing　on　square　plinth　blocks；　each　decorated　with　a　medallion　of　a　past　ruler　of　one　of　the　lands　of　the　Midlands。　The　hundreds　upon　hundreds　of　glistening；　vase…shaped　balusters　had　been　turned　from　a　mellow　yellow　stone　that　seemed　to　glow　from　within。　The　square　newels；　made　of　a　dusky　brown　granite；　were　nearly　as　tall　as　she；　and　each　was　capped　with　a　gold…leafed　lamp。　Florid　carvings　in　stone　covered　expansive　panels　under　the　plex　bands　of　dentil　moldings　that　ran　in　mitered　bands　over　the　tops　of　the　capitals。　The　center　landing　held　statues　of　eight　Mother　Confessors。　Kahlan　had　seen　modest　palaces　that　would　fit　within　the　space　the　staircase　occupied。
　
　The　monumental　staircase　and　the　room　that　held　it　had　taken　forty　years　to　build；　the　expense　borne　entirely　by　Kelton；　in　partial　repense　for　their　opposition　to　the　joining　of　the　lands　into　the　Midlands；　and　the　war　it　spawned。　It　was　also　decreed　that　no　leader　of　Kelton　could　ever　be　honored　with　a　medallion　at　the　base　of　the　columns。　The　staircase　was　dedicated　to　the　people　of　the　Midlands；　and　was　to　honor　them；　not　those　who　built　it　as　penalty。　Kelton　was　now　a　powerful　land　of　the　Midlands　in　good　standing；　and　Kahlan　thought　it　foolish　to　rebuke　a　people　for　something　their　ancestors　had　done　centuries　ago。
　
　As　she　reached　the　central　landing　and　turned　up　the　second　flight　toward　her　room；　she　saw　a　phalanx　of　servants　waiting　at　the　top　of　the　stairs。　They　all　bowed　as　one　when　her　eyes　fell　on　them。　She　thought　it　must　look　absurd　…nearly　thirty　sparkling；　bed　and　buffed　people　in　clean；　crisp　uniforms；　all　bowing　to　a　filthy　woman　in　wolf　hides；　carrying　a　bow　and　heavy　pack。　Well；　this　could　only　mean　one　thing：　word　of　her　arrival　had　swept　through　the　whole　of　the　palace　already。　There　wasn’t　likely　to　be　a　gardener　in　the　farthest　greenhouse　that　didn’t　by　now　know　the　Mother　Confessor　was　home。
　
　‘Rise；　my　children；’　Kahlan　said　when　she　reached　the　top　of　the　stairs。　They　moved　back　to　make　way　for　her。
　
　And　then　it　started。　Would　the　Mother　Confessor　like　a　bath；　would　the　Mother　Confessor　like　a　massage；　would　the　Mother　Confessor　like　her　hair　washed　and　brushed；　would　the　Mother　Confessor　like　her　nails　buffed；　would　the　Mother　Confessor　care　to　take　any　petitioners；　would　the　Mother　Confessor　like　to　see　any　advisors；　would　the　Mother　Confessor　like　any　letters　written；　would　the　Mother　Confessor　like；　wish；　want；　need；　or　require　a　whole　list　of　things。
　
　Kahlan　addressed　the　mistress　of　the　maidservants。　‘Berna…dette；　I　would　like　a　bath。　Nothing　else。　Just　a　bath。’
　
　Two　women　rushed　off　to　see　to　the　bath。
　
　Mistress　Bernadette’s　eyes　made　an　involuntary　flick　down　at　Kahlan’s　attire。　‘Would　the　Mother　Confessor　like　to　have　any　of　her　clothes　mended；　or　cleaned？’
　
　Kahlan　thought　about　the　blue　dress　in　her　pack。　‘I　guess　I　have　a　few　things　that　need　cleaning。’　She　thought　about　all　the　rest　of　her　clothes；　most　soaked　with　blood　from　one　battle　or　another。　‘I　guess　I　have　a　lot　of　things　that　need　to　be　washed。’
　
　‘Yes；　Mother　Confessor。　And　would　you　like　me　to　lay　out　your　white　dress　for　tonight？’
　
　‘Tonight？’
　
　Mistress　Bernadette　reddened。　‘Runners　have　already　been　sent　to　Kings　Row；　Mother　Confessor。　Everyone　will　want　to　wele　the　Mother　Confessor　home。’
　
　Kahlan　groaned。　She　was　dead　tired。　She　didn’t　want　to　greet　people；　just　to　tell　women　how　fine　their　hair　looked　all　pinned　and　decorated；　or　men　how　fine　the　cut　of　their　coat　was；　or　to　listen　patiently　to　supplications　that　invariably　involved　the　distribution　of　funds　and　always　sought　to　prove　that　the　appellant　was　in　no　way　seeking　advantage；　but　only　relief　from　the　inequitable　situation　in　which　he　was　mired。
　
　Mistress　Bernadette　gave　her　a　corrective　look；　as　she　had　done　when　Kahlan　was　little；　as　if　to　say；　‘Look　here；　young　lady；　you　have　obligations；　and　I　expect　no　trouble　about　it。’
　
　What　she　said；　though；　was　‘Everyone　has　been　fraught　with　concern　over　the　safe　return　of　the　Mother　Confessor。　It　would　do　their　hearts　good　to　see　you　safe　and　well。’
　
　Kahlan　doubted　that。　What　Mistress　Bernadette　really　meant　was　that　it　would　do　Kahlan　good　to　remind　people　that　the　Mother　Confessor　was　still　alive　and　in　charge。　Kahlan　sighed。　‘Of　course；　Bernadette。　Thank　you　for　reminding　me　people　have　kept　me　in　their　hearts　and　been　worried。’
　
　Mistress　Bernadette　smiled　as　she　bowed　her　head。　‘Yes；　Mother　Confessor。’
　
　As　the　rest　of　the　servants　rushed　off；　Kahlan　leaned　toward　Mistress　Bernadette。　‘I　remember　when　you　would　have　added　a　swat　on　my　behind　for　having　to　remind　me　of　things。’
　
　Mistress　Bernadette’s　smile　returned。　‘I　think　you　are　too　smart；　now；　for　that；　Mother　Confessor。’　She　rubbed　an　invisible　spot　from　the　back　of　her　hand。　‘Mother　Confessor　。。。　did　you　bring　any　of　the　other　Confessors　home　with　you？　Will　any　of　the　others　be　returning；　soon？’
　
　Kahlan’s　features　slid　into　her　Confessor’s　face；　as　her　mother　had　taught　her。　‘I’m　sorry；　Bernadette；　I　thought　you　knew。　They　are　all　dead。　I　am　the　last　living　Confessor。’
　
　Mistress　Bernadette’s　eyes　filled　with　tears　as　she　whispered　a　prayer。　‘May　the　good　spirits　be　with　them　always。’
　
　‘Why　should　they　mence　now；’　Kahlan　said　tersely。　They　didn’t　bother　to　be　with　Dennee　the　day　the　quad　caught　her。’
　
　The　fireplaces　in　her　rooms　were　all　blazing；　as　she　had　known　they　would　be；　and　would　have　been　every　day　she　had　been　away；　month　after　month。　The　fires　in　the　Mother　Confessor’s　rooms　would　never　be　allowed　to　go　out　in　the　winter；　in　case　she　returned。　There　was　a　silver　tray　on　a　table；　with　a　fresh　loaf　of　bread；　a　pot　of　tea；　and　a　steaming　bowl　of　spice　soup。　Mistress　Sanderholt　knew　spice　soup　was　her　favorite。
　
　Spice　soup　reminded　Kahlan　of　Richard；　now。　She　remembered　making　it　for　him；　and　he　for　her。
　
　After　dropping　her　pack　and　bow　to　the　floor；　Kahlan　crossed　the　plush　carpets　and　went　into　the　next　room。　She　stood；　idly　rubbing　her　fingers　on　one　of　the　great；　polished　posts　at　the　foot　of　her　bed；　staring；　remembering　that　she　was　supposed　to　be　here　with　Richard。　The　day　they　arrived　in　Aydindril　they　were　to　already　have　been　wed。　She　had　promised　him　this　big　bed。
　
　Kahlan　remembered　the　joy　in　her　heart　the　day　they　talked　about　being　wed　and　ing　to　Aydindril　as　husband　and　wife。　She　felt　a　tear　roll　down　her　cheek。　She　gasped　a　deep　breath　against　the　hot　pain　that　burned　through　her　chest；　and　wiped　the　tear　away　with　her　fingertips。
　
　Kahlan　went　to　the　glassed　doors；　opening　them　out　onto　the　expansive　balcony。　She　put　her　trembling　fingers　to　the　broad；　icy　railing　and　stood　in　the　cold　air；　looking　up　the　mountainside　to　the　Wizard’s　Keep；　its　dark　stone　walls　standing　out　in　the　last　golden　rays　of　the　sunset。
　
　‘Where　are　you；　Zedd？’　she　whispered。　‘I　need　you。’
　
　
　He　came　awake　with　a　gasp　as　he　slid　and　thumped　his　head。　He　sat　up；　blinking。　An　old　woman　with　straight；　black　and　white；　jaw…length　hair　was　sitting　opposite　him；　cowering　in　a　corner。　The　two　of　them　were　inside　a　coach。　It　rolled　abruptly；　sliding　him　across　to　the　other　side。　The　woman　was　staring　in　his　direction。　He　blinked　in　surprise　at　her。　Her　eyes　were　pletely　white。
　
　‘Who　are　you？’　he　asked。
　
　‘Who　be　you？’　she　asked　right　back。
　
　‘I　asked　first。’
　
　‘I　。。。’　She　drew　her　cloak　around　her　fine；　green　dress。　‘I　don’t　know　who　I　be。　Who　be　you？’
　
　He　held　a　finger　skyward。　‘I’m　。。。　I’m　。。。’　He　let　out　a　thin　sigh。　‘I’m　afraid　I　don’t　know　who　I　am；　either。　Don’t　I　look　like　anyone　you　recognize？’
　
　She　pulled　her　cloak　a　little　tighter。　‘I　do　not　know。　I　be　blind。　I　cannot　see　what　you　look　like。’
　
　‘Blind？　Oh。　Well；　I’m　sorry。’
　
　He　rubbed　his　head　where　he　had　hit　it　on　the　side　of　the　coach。　Looking　down；　he　saw　that　he　was　wearing　fine　clothes；　a　maroon　robe　with　black　sleeves　that　had　three　rows　of　silver　brocade　around　them。　Well；　he　thought；　at　least　I　must　be　wealthy。
　
　He　picked　a　black　cane　off　the　floor；　giving　its　fine　silver…work　a　look。　He　turned　and　thumped　it　against　the　roof；　in　the　direction　of　where　the　driver　must　be　sitting；　up　top。　The　old　woman　jumped　with　a　fright。
　
　‘What　be　that　noise！’
　
　‘Oh；　sorry。　I　was　trying　to　get　the　driver’s　attention。’
　
　The　driver　must　have　heard。　The　coach　slid　to　a　stop；　and　then　rocked　as　someone　climbed　down。　When　the　door　drew　open　and　he　saw　the　size　of　the　man　in　a　longcoat　sticking　his　windburned　face　in；　he　clutched　his　cane　and　slid　back。
　
　‘Who　are　you？’　he　asked；　brandishing　the　cane。
　
　‘Me？　I’m　just　a　big　fool；’　the　big　man　growled。　His　deeply　creased　face　softened　into　a　little　smile。　‘Name’s　Ahern。’
　
　‘Well；　Ahern；　what　are　you　doing　with　us？　Have　you　kidnapped　us？　Are　we　being　held　for　ransom？’
　
　Ahern　chuckled。　‘More　like　the　other　way　around；　I’d　say。’
　
　‘What　do　you　mean？　How　long　have　we　been　asleep？　And　who　are　we？’
　
　Ahern　looked　to　the　sky。　‘Dear　spirits；　how　do　I　get　myself　into　these　things？’　He　let　out　a　sigh。　‘You’ve　both　been　asleep　since　late　yesterday。　You’ve　slept　last　night；　and　all　day　today。　Your　name　is　Ruben。　Ruben　Rybnik。’
　
　‘Ruben？’　He　harrumphed。　‘Ruben。　Well；　that’s　a　fine　name。’
　
　And　who　be　I？’　the　woman　asked。
　
　‘You　are　Elda　Rybnik。’
　
　‘Her　name　is　Rybnik；　too？’　Ruben　asked。　Are　we　related？’
　
　Ahern　hesitated。　‘Yes　and　no。　You　two　are　husband　and　wife。　Sort　of。’
　
　Ruben　leaned　toward　the　big　man。　‘I　think　that　needs　explaining。’
　
　Ahern　gave　a　sigh；　and　a　nod。　‘Your　name’s　Ruben；　and　hers　is　Elda。　But　that’s　not　your　real　names。　You　told　me　that　for　now；　it　would　be　best　if　I　not　tell　you　your　real　names。’
　
　‘You　have　kidnapped　us！　You’ve　knocked　us　on　the　head　and　spirited　us　away！’
　
　‘Just　calm　down；　and　I’ll　explain。’
　
　‘Then　explain；　before　I　give　you　a　thrashing　with　my　cane。’
　
　‘It　isn’t　worth　it；’　Ahern　mumbled　to　himself。　‘How　did　I　ever　get　into　this？　Gold；　that’s　how；’　he　answered　himself。
　
　Ahern　pushed　into　the　coach；　sitting　next　to　Ruben。　He　pulled　the　door　closed　against　the　flying　snow。
　
　‘Well；　just　invite　yourself　right　in；’　Ruben　said。
　
　Ahern　cleared　his　throat。　All　right；　now；　you　two　listen　to　me。　You　both　were　sick。　You　had　me　take　you　to　see　three　women。’　He　leaned　closer　to　Ruben　and　scowled。　Three　sorceresses。’
　
　‘Sorceresses！’　Ruben　yelped。　‘No　wonder　we　don’