sk.everythingseventual-第37节

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　　How　serious　he　did　not　ask；　and　she　was　gone　in　any　case；　seeming　to　flow　along　the　aisle　between　all　the　empty　beds；　her　skirt　caught　up　in　one　hand。　The　roses　had　fled　from　her　face；　leaving　her　cheeks　and　brow　ashy。　He　remembered　the　greedy　look　on　the　faces　of　the　others；　how　they　had　gathered　around　him　in　a　tightening　knot　。　。　。　and　the　way　their　faces　had　shimmered。
　　Six　women；　five　old　and　one　young。
　　Doctors　that　sang　and　then　crawled　away　across　the　floor　when　dismissed　by　jingling　bells。
　　And　an　improbable　hospital　ward　of　perhaps　a　hundred　beds；　a　ward　with　a　silk　roof　and　silk　walls　。　。　。
　　。　。　。　and　all　the　beds　empty　save　three。
　　Roland　didn't　understand　why　Jenna　had　taken　the　dead　boy's　medallion　from　his　pants　pocket　and　put　it　around　his　neck；　but　he　had　an　idea　that　if　they　found　out　she　had　done　so；　the　Little　Sisters　of　Eluria　might　kill　her。
　　Roland　closed　his　eyes；　and　the　soft　singing　of　the　doctor…insects　once　again　floated　him　off　into　sleep。
　　
　　IV。　A　Bowl　of　Soup。　The　Boy　in　the　Next　Bed。
　　The　Night…Nurses。
　　
　　Roland　dreamed　that　a　very　large　bug　（a　doctor…bug；　mayhap）　was　flying　around　his　head　and　banging　repeatedly　into　his　nose…collisions　which　were　annoying　rather　than　painful。　He　swiped　at　the　bug　repeatedly；　and　although　his　hands　were　eerily　fast　under　ordinary　circumstances；　he　kept　missing　it。　And　each　time　he　missed；　the　bug　giggled。
　　I'm　slow　because　I've　been　sick；　he　thought。
　　No；　ambushed。　Dragged　across　the　ground　by　slow　mutants；　saved　by　the　Little　Sisters　of　Eluria。
　　Roland　had　a　sudden；　vivid　image　of　a　man's　shadow　growing　from　the　shadow　of　an　overturned　freight　wagon；　heard　a　rough；　gleeful　voice　cry　'Booh！'
　　He　jerked　awake　hard　enough　to　set　his　body　rocking　in　its　plication　of　slings；　and　the　woman　who　had　been　standing　beside　his　head；　giggling　as　she　tapped　his　nose　lightly　with　a　wooden　spoon；　stepped　back　so　quickly　that　the　bowl　in　her　other　hand　slipped　from　her　fingers。
　　Roland's　hands　shot　out；　and　they　were　as　quick　as　ever…his　frustrated　failure　to　catch　the　bug　had　been　only　part　of　his　dream。　He　caught　the　bowl　before　more　than　a　few　drops　could　spill。　The　woman…Sister　Coquina…looked　at　him　with　round　eyes。
　　There　was　pain　all　up　and　down　his　back　from　the　sudden　movement；　but　it　was　nowhere　near　as　sharp　as　it　had　been　before；　and　there　was　no　sensation　of　movement　on　his　skin。　Perhaps　the　'doctors'　were　only　sleeping；　but　he　had　an　idea　they　were　gone。
　　He　held　out　his　hand　for　the　spoon　Coquina　had　been　teasing　him　with　（he　found　he　wasn't　surprised　at　all　that　one　of　these　would　tease　a　sick　and　sleeping　man　in　such　a　way；　it　would　have　surprised　him　only　if　it　had　been　Jenna）；　and　she　handed　it　to　him；　her　eyes　still　big。
　　'How　speedy　ye　are！'　she　said。　''Twas　like　a　magic　trick；　and　you　still　rising　from　sleep！'
　　'Remember　it；　sai；'　he　said；　and　tried　the　soup。　There　were　tiny　bits　of　chicken　floating　in　it。　He　probably　would　have　considered　it　bland　under　other　circumstances；　but　under　these；　it　seemed　ambrosial。　He　began　to　eat　greedily。
　　'What　do'ee　mean　by　that？'　she　asked。　The　light　was　very　dim　now；　the　wall　panels　across　the　way　a　pinkish　orange　that　suggested　sunset。　In　this　light；　Coquina　looked　quite　young　and　pretty　。　。　。　but　it　was　a　glamour；　Roland　was　sure；　a　sorcerous　kind　of　makeup。
　　'I　mean　nothing　in　particular。'　Roland　dismissed　the　spoon　as　too　slow；　preferring　to　tilt　the　bowl　itself　to　his　lips。　In　this　way　he　disposed　of　the　soup　in　four　large　gulps。　'You　have　been　kind　to　me…'
　　'Aye；　so　we　have！'　she　said；　rather　indignantly。
　　'…and　I　hope　your　kindness　has　no　hidden　motive。　If　it　does；　Sister；　remember　that　I'm　quick。　And；　as　for　myself；　I　have　not　always　been　kind。'
　　She　made　no　reply；　only　took　the　bowl　when　Roland　handed　it　back。　She　did　this　delicately；　perhaps　not　wanting　to　touch　his　fin…gers。　Her　eyes　dropped　to　where　the　medallion　lay；　once　more　hidden　beneath　the　breast　of　his　bed…dress。　He　said　no　more；　not　wanting　to　weaken　the　implied　threat　by　reminding　her　that　the　man　who　made　it　was　unarmed；　next　to　naked；　and　hung　in　the　air　because　his　back　couldn't　yet　bear　the　weight　of　his　body。
　　'Where's　Sister　Jenna？'　he　asked。
　　'Oooo；'　Sister　Coquina　said；　raising　her　eyebrows。　'We　like　her；　do　we？　She　makes　our　heart　go　。　。　。'　She　put　her　hand　against　the　rose　on　her　breast　and　fluttered　it　rapidly。
　　'Not　at　all；　not　at　all；'　Roland　said；　'but　she　was　kind。　I　doubt　she　would　have　teased　me　with　a　spoon；　as　some　would。'
　　Sister　Coquina's　smile　faded。　She　looked　both　angry　and　worried。　'Say　nothing　of　that　to　Mary；　if　she　es　by　later。　Ye　might　get　me　in　trouble。'
　　'Should　I　care？'
　　'I　might　get　back　at　one　who　caused　me　trouble　by　causing　little　Jenna　trouble；'　Sister　Coquina　said。　'She's　in　Big　Sister's　black　books；　just　now；　anyway。　Sister　Mary　doesn't　care　for　the　way　Jenna　spoke　to　her　about　ye　。　。　。　nor　does　she　like　it　that　Jenna　came　back　to　us　wearing　the　Dark　Bells。'
　　This　was　scarcely　out　of　her　mouth　before　Sister　Coquina　put　her　hand　over　that　frequently　imprudent　organ；　as　if　realizing　she　had　said　too　much。
　　Roland；　intrigued　by　what　she'd　said　but　not　liking　to　show　it　just　now；　only　replied；　'I'll　keep　my　mouth　shut　about　you；　if　you　keep　your　mouth　shut　to　Sister　Mary　about　Jenna。'
　　Coquina　looked　relieved。　'Aye；　that's　a　bargain。'　She　leaned　forward　confidingly。　'She's　in　Thoughtful　House。　That's　the　little　cave　in　the　hillside　where　we　have　to　go　and　meditate　when　Big　Sister　decides　we've　been　bad。　She'll　have　to　stay　and　consider　her　impudence　until　Mary　lets　her　out。'　She　paused；　then　said　abruptly；　'Who's　this　beside　ye？　Do　ye　know？'
　　Roland　turned　his　head　and　saw　that　the　young　man　was　awake；　and　had　been　listening。　His　eyes　were　as　dark　as　Jenna's。
　　'Know　him？'　Roland　asked；　with　what　he　hoped　was　the　right　touch　of　scorn。　'Should　I　not　know　my　own　brother？'
　　'Is　he；　now；　and　him　so　young　and　you　so　old？'　Another　of　the　sisters　materialized　out　of　the　darkness：　Sister　Tamra；　who　had　called　herself　one…and…twenty。　In　the　moment　before　she　reached　Roland's　bed；　her　face　was　that　of　a　hag　who　will　never　see　eighty　again　。　。　。　or　ninety。　Then　it　shimmered　and　was　once　more　the　plump；　healthy　countenance　of　a　thirty…year…old　matron。　Except　for　the　eyes。　They　remained　yellowish　in　the　corneas；　gummy　in　the　corners；　and　watchful。
　　'He's　the　youngest；　I　the　eldest；'　Roland　said。　'Betwixt　us　are　seven　others；　and　twenty　years　of　our　parents'　lives。'
　　'How　sweet！　And　if　he's　yer　brother；　then　ye'll　know　his　name；　won't　ye？　Know　it　very　well。'
　　Before　the　gunslinger　could　flounder；　the　young　man　said；　'They　think　you've　forgotten　such　a　simple　hook　as　John　Norman。　What　culleens　they　be；　eh；　Jimmy？'
　　Coquina　and　Tamra　looked　at　the　pale　boy　in　the　bed　next　to　Roland's；　clearly　angry　。　。　。　and　clearly　trumped。　For　the　time　being；　at　least。
　　'You've　fed　him　your　muck；'　the　boy　（whose　medallion　undoubtedly　proclaimed　him　John；　Loved　of　family。　Loved　of　GOD）　said。　'Why　don't　you　go；　and　let　us　have　a　natter？'
　　'Well！'　Sister　Coquina　huffed。　'I　like　the　gratitude　around　here；　so　I　do！'
　　'I'm　grateful　for　what's　given　me；'　Norman　responded；　looking　at　her　steadily；　'but　not　for　what　folk　would　take　away。'
　　Tamra　snorted　through　her　nose；　turned　violently　enough　for　her　swirling　dress　to　push　a　draught　of　air　into　Roland's　face；　and　then　took　her　leave。　Coquina　stayed　a　moment。
　　'Be　discreet；　and　mayhap　someone　ye　like　better　than　ye　like　me　will　get　out　of　hack　in　the　morning；　instead　of　a　week　from　tonight。'
　　Without　waiting　for　a　reply；　she　turned　and　followed　Sister　Tamra。
　　Roland　and　John　Norman　waited　until　they　were　both　gone；　and　then　Norman　turned　to　Roland　and　spoke　in　a　low　voice。　'My　brother。　Dead？'
　　Roland　nodded。　'The　medallion　I　took　in　case　I　should　meet　with　any　of　his　people。　It　rightly　belongs　to　you。　I'm　sorry　for　your　loss。'
　　'Thankee…sai。'　John　Norman's　lower　lip　trembled；　then　firmed。　'I　knew　the　green　men　did　for　him；　although　these　old　biddies　wouldn't　tell　me　for　sure。　They　did　for　plenty；　and　scotched　the　rest。'
　　'Perhaps　the　Sisters　didn't　know　for　sure。'
　　'They　knew。　Don't　you　doubt　it。　They　don't　say　much；　but　they　know　plenty。　The　only　one　any　different　is　Jenna。　That's　who　the　old　battle…axe　meant　when　she　said　'your　friend。'　Aye？'　Roland　nodded。　'And　she　said　something　about　the　Dark　Bells。　I'd　know　more　of　that；　if　would　were　could。'
　　'She's　something　special；　Jenna　is。　More　like　a　princess…someone　whose　place　is　made　by　bloodline　and　can't　be　refused…than　like　the　other　Sisters。　I　lie　here　and　look　like　I'm　asleep…it's　safer；　I　think…but　I've　heard　em　talking。　Jenna's　just　e　back　among　em　recently；　and　those　Dark　Bells　mean　something　special　。　。　。　but　Mary's　still　the　one　who　swings　the　weight。　I　think　the　Dark　Bells　are　only　ceremonial；　like　the　rings　the　old　Barons　used　to　hand　down　from　father　to　son。　Was　it　she　who　put　Jimmy's　medal　around　your　neck？'
　　'Yes。'
　　'Don't　take　it　off；　whatever　you　do。'　His　face　was　strained；　grim。　'I　don't　know　if　it's　the　gold　or　the　God；　but　th