tg.stone of tears-第93部分

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rs。　Had　Darken　Rahl　been　less　concerned　with　finding　the　boxes；　he　could　have　sent　greater　numbers　and　maybe　overrun　the　defenders　in　the　passes；　but　he　didn’t。　This　time；　someone　had。
　
　These　headless　men　were　a　part　of　that　outer　defensive　ring。　Backs　to　the　wall；　they　had　been　defeated　and　captured；　and　then　executed　before　the　walls　were　breached　…　apparently　as　a　demonstration　to　those　still　inside；　to　terrorize　them；　to　panic　them　into　an　ineffectual　defense。　She　knew　that　what　was　inside　the　walls　would　be　worse。　The　dead　women　they　had　been　finding　told　her　that　much。
　
　Out　of　habit；　and　without　even　realizing　it；　she　had　put　on　the　calm　face　that　showed　nothing：　the　face　of　a　Confessor；　as　her　mother　had　taught　her。
　
　‘Prindin；　Tossidin；　I　want　you　two　to　go　around　the　outside　of　the　walls。　I　want　to　know　what　else　is　on　the　outside。　I　want　to　know　everything　about　what　has　happened　here。　I　want　to　know　when　this　was　done；　where　the　attackers　came　from；　and　where　they　went　when　they　were　finished。　Chan…dalen　and　I　will　go　inside。　Meet　us　back　here　when　you　are　finished。’
　
　The　brothers　went　quickly　at　her　direction；　their　heads　close　together　as　they　whispered　to　one　another　while　pointing；　analyzing　tracks　and　signs　they　understood　with　hardly　more　than　a　glance。　Chandalen　walked　silently　at　her　side；　his　bow；　with　an　arrow　nocked　and　tension　to　the　string；　at　the　ready　as　she　stepped　over　rubble　and　moved　on　through　the　yawning　hole。
　
　None　of　the　three　men　had　objected　to　her　instructions。　They　were；　she　knew；　astonished　at　the　size　of　the　city；　but　more　than　that；　they　were　overwhelmed　at　the　enormity　of　what　had　happened　here；　they　respected　her　obligation　to　the　dead。
　
　Chandalen’s　eyes　ignored　the　bodies　that　lay　everywhere　and　watched　instead　the　shaded　openings　and　alleyways　among　the　small　daub…and…wattle　houses　that　were　homes　to　the　farmers　and　sheepherders　who　worked　the　land　closer　to　the　city。　There　were　no　fresh　prints　in　the　snow；　nothing　alive　had　been　here　recently。
　
　Kahlan　chose　the　proper　streets　and　Chandalen　stayed　close　at　her　right　shoulder；　half　a　step　behind。　She　didn’t　stop　to　inspect　the　dead　laying　everywhere。　All　looked　to　have　died　the　same　way：　killed　in　a　fierce　battle。
　
　‘These　people　were　defeated　by　great　numbers；’　Chandalen　said　in　a　quiet　tone。　‘Many　thousands；　as　you　called　it。　They　had　no　chance　to　win。’
　
　‘Why　do　you　say　that？’
　
　‘They　are　bunched　together　between　the　buildings。　This　is　a　bad　place　to　have　to　fight；　but　in　a　closed…in　place　like　this；　that　is　the　only　way。　That　is　the　way　I　would　try　to　defend　against　a　larger　number　…　by　blocking　the　enemy　from　spreading　out　behind　me　to　trap　me。　Greater　numbers　would　not　be　as　much　good　in　the　small　passageways。　I　would　try　to　keep　the　enemy　from　spreading　out；　and　e　at　them　from　all　sides　so　they　could　not　attack　as　they　wished；　but　must　be　always　in　fear　of　where　I　would　be　next。　You　must　not　meet　the　enemy　as　they　wish　you　to；　especially　when　they　greatly　outnumber　you。
　
　There　are　old　men；　and　boys；　among　the　soldiers。　Boys　and　old　men　would　not　e　to　fight　beside　Chandalen　unless　they　saw　it　was　a　war　to　the　death　and　I　was　greatly　outnumbered。　For　these　men　to　stand　and　fight　against　vastly　greater　numbers；　they　must　have　been　brave。　Old　men　and　boys　would　not　have　e　to　help　such　brave　men　if　the　enemy　were　not　so　great。’
　
　She　knew　Chandalen　was　right。　Everyone　had　seen　or　heard　the　executions　outside　the　walls。　They　knew　defeat　was　death。
　
　The　bodies　were　felled　like　reeds　before　a　great　wind。　As　they　ascended　the　rise　to　where　the　old　city　walls　had　stood；　the　dead　were　more　numerous。　It　looked　that　they　had　fallen　back；　trying　to　make　a　stand　from　higher　ground。　It　had　done　them　no　good；　they　had　been　overrun。
　
　All　the　dead　were　defenders；　none　were　the　corpses　of　attackers。　Kahlan　knew　that　some　believed　leaving　the　dead　where　they　fell　in　defeating　an　enemy　augured　ill　luck　in　future　battles；　and　further；　that　it　abandoned　their　spirits　to　retribution　by　the　spirits　of　those　defeated。　Likewise；　they　believed　that　if　they　left　their　dead　at　the　site　of　a　defeat；　the　spirits　of　their　fallen　rades　would　live　on　to　plague　their　enemies。　Whoever　had　done　this　must　have　believed　such；　and　dragged　their　own　dead　away　from　the　bodies　of　those　they　had　vanquished。　Kahlan　knew　of　several　peoples　who　believed　that　the　act　of　dying　in　battle　could　bring　about　such　thaumaturgy。　One　nation；　above　all；　sat　at　the　head　of　her　roster。
　
　As　they　skirted　an　overturned　wagon；　its　load　of　firewood　spilled　in　a　heap；　Chandalen　paused　beneath　a　small　wooden　sign　carved　with　a　leafy　plant　next　to　a　mortar　and　pestle。　With　a　hand；　he　shielded　his　eyes　from　the　sunlight　and　looked　into　the　long；　narrow　shop　set　back　a　few　feet　from　the　buildings　to　each　side。　‘What　is　this　place？’
　
　Kahlan　walked　past　him；　through　the　splintered　doorframe。　‘It’s　an　herb　shop。’　The　counter　was　covered　with　broken　glass　jars　and　dried　herbs；　all　scattered　together　in　a　useless　mess。　Only　two　glass　lids　remained　unbroken　among　the　pale　green　debris。　‘This　is　where　people　went　to　get　herbs　and　remedies。’
　
　Behind　the　counter；　the　wall　cabinet；　which　reached　from　floor　to　ceiling　and　almost　the　entire　length　of　the　narrow　shop；　had　held　hundreds　of　small　wooden　drawers；　their　patina　darkened　by　the　countless　touches　of　fingers。　The　ones　still　left　in　place　were　smashed　in　with　a　mace。　The　drawers　and　their　contents　on　the　floor　had　been　crushed　underfoot。　Chandalen　squatted　and　pulled　open　the　few　drawers　near　the　bottom　that　had　remained　untouched；　inspecting　briefly　their　stores　before　sliding　each　drawer　closed　again。
　
　‘Nissel　would　be　。。。　how　do　you　say　‘astonished’？’
　
　‘Astonished；’　Kahlan　answered。
　
　‘She　would　be　astonished；　to　see　this　many　healing　plants。　This　is　a　crime；　to　destroy　things　that　help　people。’
　
　She　watched　him　pull　open　drawers　and　then　slide　them　closed。　‘A　crime；’　she　agreed。
　
　He　pulled　open　another　drawer；　and　gasped。　He　squatted；　motionless；　for　a　moment；　before　reverently　lifting　a　bundle　of　miniature　plants；　tied　at　their　stems　with　a　bit　of　string。　The　tiny；　dry　leaves　were　a　dusky　greenish　brown　with　crimson　veining。
　
　A　low　whistle　came　from　between　his　teeth。　‘Quassin　doe；’　he　whispered。
　
　Kahlan　eyed　the　shadowed　back　of　the　shop　as　her　vision　adjusted　to　the　darkness。　She　saw　no　bodies。　The　proprietor　must　have　fled　before　he　was　killed；　or　maybe　he　was　one　who　had　stood　with　the　army　against　the　invaders。　‘What　is　Quassin　doe？’
　
　Chandalen　turned　the　bundle　over　in　his　palm；　his　eyes　fixed　unblinking　on　it。　‘Quassin　doe　can　save　your　life　if　you　take　ten…step　poison　by　mistake；　or；　if　you　are　quick　enough；　when　shot　by　an　arrow　with　the　poison　on　it。’
　
　‘How　can　you　take　it　by　mistake？’
　
　‘Many　poison　bandu　leaves　must　be　chewed；　for　a　long　time；　and　made　wet　in　your　mouth；　before　being　cooked　until　they　bee　a　thick　paste。　Sometimes；　if　you　swallow　some　of　the　wetness　in　your　mouth　by　accident；　or　chew　too　long；　it　can　make　you　sick。’
　
　He　opened　a　buckskin　waist　pouch　and　showed　her　a　small；　carved　bone；　lidded　box。　Inside　was　a　dark　paste。　This　is　ten…step　poison　we　put　on　our　arrows。　We　make　it　from　the　bandu。　If　you　ate　a　very　little　of　this；　it　would　make　you　sick。　If　you　ate　a　little　more　you　would　be　a　long　time　to　die。　If　you　ate　more；　you　would　die　quick。　But　no　one　would　eat　it　after　it　is　made　and　put　in　here。’　He　slipped　the　box　of　poison　back　in　his　pouch。
　
　‘So　you　could　take　some　of　the　quassin　doe；　and　it　would　make　you　well　if　you　accidentally　swallowed　some　of　the　bandu　when　you　were　chewing　its　leaves　to　make　the　poison？’　He　nodded　in　answer　to　her　question。　‘But　if　you　were　shot　with　a　ten…step　arrow；　wouldn’t　you　die　before　you　could　take　the　quassin　doe？’
　
　Chandalen　turned　the　bundle　of　plants　in　his　fingers。　‘Maybe。　Sometimes；　a　man　will　scratch　himself　with　his　own　ten…step　arrow；　by　not　meaning　to；　and　he　can　take　the　quassin　doe；　and　he　will　be　well　again。　If　you　are　shot　with　a　poison　arrow；　sometimes　you　will　have　time　to　save　yourself。　Ten…step　arrows　only　work　quick　if　you　are　shot　in　the　neck。
　
　Then　you　have　no　time　to　take　the　quassin　doe；　you　will　die　too　quick。　But　if　you　are　shot　in　another　place；　maybe　your　leg；　the　poison　takes　longer　to　work；　and　you　have　time　to　take　the　quassin　doe。’
　
　‘What　if　you　aren’t　near　to　Nissel；　so　she　could　give　it　to　you？　You　would　die　if　you　were　out　on　the　plains　hunting　and　you　scratched　yourself　accidentally　with　a　poison　arrow。’
　
　‘All　hunters　used　to　carry　a　few　leaves　with　them；　so　they　may　take　it　if　they　scratched　themselves；　or　were　shot　with　an　arrow　and　had　time。　If　there　is　not　much　poison　on　the　arrow；　like　if　it　has　not　much　on　it　because　it　is　used　to　hunt　small　animals；　you　have　longer。　In　times　long　ago；　when　there　was　war；　our　men　would　swallow　quassin　doe　just　before　a　battle；　so　the　enemy’s　ten…step　arrows　would　not　poison　them。’
　
　He　shook　his　head　sadly。　‘But　this　is　much　trouble　to　get。　The　last　time　we　traded　for　this　much；　every　man　in　the　village　had　to　make　three　bows；　and　two　fists　of　arrows；　and　all　the　women　had　to　make　bowls。　It　is　gone　now；　for　a　long　time。　Years。　The　people　we　traded　with　have　been　able　to　find　no　more。　Two　men　have　died　since　we　no　longer　have　it。　My　people　would　trade　much　to　have　this　much　again。’
　
　Kahlan　stood　over　him；　watching　him　gently　place　it　back　in　the　drawer。　‘Take　it；　Chandalen。　Give　it　to　your　people。　They　have　need　of　it。’
　
　He　slowly　slid　the　drawer　closed。　‘I　cannot。　It　would　be　wrong　to　take　it　from　another　people；　even　if　they　are　dead。　It　does　not　belong　to　my　people；　it　belongs　to　the　people　here。’
　
　Kahlan　squatted　down　next　to　him；　pulled　open　the　drawer；　and　lifted　out　the　little　bundle。　She　found　a　square　of　cloth　lying　on　the　floor　nearby；　used　for　packaging　purchases　and　wrapped　the　quassin　doe　plants。　Take　it。’　She　pushed　the　bundle　into　his　hand。　‘I　know　the　people　of　this　city。　I　will　repay　them　for　what　I　have　taken。　Since　I　will　pay　for　it；