sk.thegunslinger-第16节

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〃Cuthbert　was　with　you；〃　his　father　said。　〃He　will　have　told　his　father　by　now。〃
〃Yes。〃
〃He　fed　both　of　you　when　Cort　　〃
〃Yes。〃
〃And　Cuthbert。　Does　it　prey　on　him；　do　you　think？〃
〃I　don't　know。〃　Such　an　avenue　of　parison　did　not　really　interest　him。　He　was　not　concerned　with　how　his　feelings　pared　with　those　of　others。
〃It　preys　on　you　because　you　feel　you've　killed？〃
Roland　shrugged　unwillingly；　all　at　once　not　content　with　this　probing　of　his　motivations。
〃Yet　you　told。　Why？〃
The　boy's　eyes　widened。　〃How　could　I　not？　Treason　was　　〃
His　father　waved　a　hand　curtly。　〃If　you　did　it　for　something　as　cheap　as　a　schoolbook　idea；　you　did　it　unworthily。　I　would　rather　see　all　of　Farson　poisoned。〃
〃I　didn't！〃　The　words　jerked　out　of　him　violently。　〃I　wanted　to　kill　him　　both　of　them！　Liars！　Snakes！　They　〃Go　ahead。〃
〃They　hurt　me；〃　he　finished；　defiant。　〃They　did　something　to　me。　Changed　something。　I　wanted　to　kill　them　for　it。〃
His　father　nodded。　〃That　is　worthy。　Not　moral；　but　it　is　not　your　place　to　be　moral。　In　fact。。。　〃　He　peered　at　his　son。　〃Morals　may　always　be　beyond　you。　You　are　not　quick；　like　Cuthbert　or　Wheeler's　boy。　It　will　make　you　formidable。〃
The　boy；　impatient　before　this；　felt　both　pleased　and　troubled。　〃He　will　　〃
〃Hang。〃
The　boy　nodded。　〃I　want　to　see　it。〃
Roland　the　elder　threw　his　head　back　and　roared　laughter。　〃Not　as　formidable　as　I　thought。。。　or　perhaps　just　stupid。〃　He　closed　his　mouth　abruptly。　An　arm　shot　out　like　a　bolt　of　lightning　and　grabbed　the　boy's　upper　arm　painfully。　He　grimaced　but　did　not　flinch。　His　father　peered　at　him　steadily；　and　the　boy　looked　back；　although　it　was　more　difficult　than　hooding　the　hawk　had　been。
〃All　right；〃　he　said；　and　turned　abruptly　to　go。
〃Father？〃
〃What？〃
〃Do　you　know　who　they　were　talking　about？　Do　you　know　who　the　good　man　is？〃
His　father　turned　back　and　looked　at　him　speculatively。　〃Yes。　I　think　I　do。〃
〃If　you　caught　him；〃　Roland　said　in　his　thoughtful；　near…plodding　way；　〃no　one　else　like　Cook　would　have　to　。　。　。　have　to　be　neck…popped。〃
His　father　smiled　thinly。　〃Perhaps　not　for　a　while。　But　in　the　end；　someone　always　has　to　have　his　or　her　neck　popped；　as　you　so　quaintly　put　it。　The　people　demand　it。　Sooner　or　later；　if　there　isn't　a　turncoat；　the　people　make　one。〃
〃Yes；〃　Roland　said；　grasping　the　concept　instantly　it　was　one　he　never　forgot。　〃But　if　you　got　him　　〃
〃No；〃　his　father　said　flatly。
〃Why？〃
For　a　moment　his　father　seemed　on　the　verge　of　saying　why；　but　he　bit　it　back。　〃We've　talked　enough　for　now；　I　think。　Go　out　from　me。　〃
He　wanted　to　tell　his　father　not　to　forget　his　promise　when　the　time　came　for　Hax　to　step　through　the　trap；　but　he　was　sensitive　to　his　father's　moods。　He　suspected　his　father　wanted　to　fuck。　He　closed　that　door　quickly。　He　was　aware　that　his　mother　and　father　did　that　。　。　。　that　thing　together；　and　he　was　reasonably　well　informed　as　to　what　that　act　was；　but　the　mental　picture　that　always　condensed　with　the　thought　made　him　feel　both　uneasy　and　oddly　guilty。　Some　years　later；　Susan　would　tell　him　the　story　of　Oedipus；　and　he　would　absorb　it　in　quiet　thoughtfulness；　thinking　of　the　odd　and　bloody　triangle　formed　by　his　father；　his　mother；　and　by　Marten　　known　in　some　quarters　as　the　good　man。　Or　perhaps　it　was　a　quadrangle；　if　one　wished　to　add　himself。
〃Good　night；　father；〃　Roland　said。
〃Good　night；　son；〃　his　father　said　absently；　and　began　unbuttoning　his　shirt　In　his　mind；　the　boy　was　already　gone。　Like　father；　like　son。
Gallows　Hill　was　on　the　Farson　Road；　which　was　nicely　poetic　　Cuthbert　might　have　appreciated　this；　but　Roland　did　not。　He　did　appreciate　the　splendidly　ominous　scaffold　which　climbed　into　the　brilliantly　blue　sky；　a　black　and　angular　silhouette　which　overhung　the　coach　road。
The　two　boys　had　been　let　out　of　Morning　Exercises　Cort　had　read　the　notes　from　their　fathers　laboriously；　lips　moving；　nodding　here　and　there。　When　he　finished　with　them　both；　he　had　looked　up　at　the　blue…violet　dawn　sky　and　had　nodded　again。
〃Wait　here；〃　he　said；　and　went　toward　the　leaning　stone　hut　that　was　his　living　quarters。　He　came　back　with　a　slice　of　rough；　unleavened　bread；　broke　it　in　two；　and　gave　half　to　each。
〃When　it's　over；　each　of　you　will　put　this　beneath　his　shoes。　Mind　you　do　exactly　as　I　say；　or　I'll　clout　you　into　next　week。〃
They　had　not　understood　until　they　arrived；　riding　double　on　Cuthbert's　gelding。　They　were　the　first；　fully　two　hours　ahead　of　anyone　else　and　four　hours　before　the　hanging；　and　Gallows　Hill　stood　deserted　　except　for　the　rooks　and　ravens。　The　birds　were　everywhere；　and　of　course　they　were　all　black。　They　roosted　noisily　on　the　hard；　jutting　bar　that　overhung　the　trap　　the　armature　of　death。　They　sat　in　a　row　along　the　edge　of　the　platform；　they　jostled　for　position　on　the　stairs。
〃They　leave　them；〃　Cuthbert　muttered。　〃For　the　birds。〃
〃Let's　go　up；〃　Roland　said。
Cuthbert　looked　at　him　with　something　like　horror。　〃Do　you　think　　〃
Roland　cut　him　off　with　a　gesture　of　his　hands。　〃We're　years　early。　No　one　will　e。〃
〃All　right。〃
They　walked　slowly　toward　the　gibbet；　and　the　birds　took　indignant　wing；　cawing　and　circling　like　a　mob　of　angry　dispossessed　peasants。　Their　bodies　were　flat　and　black　against　the　pure　dawnlight　of　the　sky。
For　the　first　time　Roland　felt　the　enormity　of　his　responsibility　in　the　matter；　this　wood　was　not　noble；　not　part　of　the　awesome　machine　of　Civilization；　but　merely　warped　pine　covered　with　splattered　white　bird　droppings。　It　was　splashed　everywhere　　stairs；　railing；　platform　　and　it　stank。
The　boy　turned　to　Cuthbert　with　startled；　terrified　eyes　and　saw　Cuthbert　looking　back　at　him　with　the　same　expression。
〃I　can't；〃　Cuthbert　whispered。　〃I　can't　watch　it。〃
Roland　shook　his　head　slowly。　There　was　a　lesson　here；　he　realized；　not　a　shining　thing　but　something　that　was　old　and　rusty　and　misshapen。　It　was　why　their　fathers　had　let　them　e。　And　with　his　usual　stubborn　and　inarticulate　doggedness；　Roland　laid　mental　hands　on　whatever　it　was。
〃You　can；　Bert。〃
〃I　won't　sleep　tonight〃
〃Then　you　won't；〃　Roland　said；　not　seeing　what　that　had　to　do　with　it
Cuthbert　suddenly　seized　Roland's　hand　and　looked　at　him　with　such　mute　agony　that　Roland's　own　doubt　came　back；　and　he　wished　sickly　that　they　had　never　gone　to　the　west　kitchen　that　night　His　father　had　been　right　Better　every　man；　woman；　and　child　in　Farson　than　this。
But　whatever　the　lesson　was；　rusty；　half…buried　thing；　he　would　not　let　it　go　or　give　up　his　grip　on　it
〃Let's　not　go　up；〃　Cuthbert　said。　〃We've　seen　everything。〃
And　Roland　nodded　reluctantly；　feeling　his　grip　on　that　thing　　whatever　it　was　　weaken。　Cort；　he　knew；　would　have　knocked　them　both　sprawling　and　then　forced　them　up　to　the　platform　step　by　cursing　step　。　。　。　and　sniffing　fresh　blood　back　up　their　noses　as　they　went　Cort　would　probably　have　looped　new　hemp　over　the　yardarm　itself　and　put　the　noose　around　each　of　their　necks　in　turn；　would　have　made　them　stand　on　the　trap　to　feel　it；　and　Cort　would　have　been　ready　to　strike　them　again　if　either　wept　or　lost　control　of　his　bladder。　And　Cort；　of　course；　would　have　been　right　For　the　first　time　in　his　life；　Roland　found　himself　hating　his　own　childhood。　He　wished　for　the　size　and　calluses　and　sureness　of　age。
He　deliberately　pried　a　splinter　from　the　railing　and　placed　it　in　his　breast　pocket　before　turning　away。
〃Why　did　you　do　that？〃　Cuthbert　asked。
He　wished　to　answer　something　swaggering：　Oh；　the　luck　of　the　gallows　。　。　。　but　he　only　looked　at　Cuthbert　and　shook　his　head。　〃Just　so　I'll　have　it；〃　he　said。　〃Always　have　it〃
They　walked　away　from　the　gallows；　sat　down；　and　waited。　In　an　hour　or　so　the　first　of　them　began　to　gather；　mostly　families　who　had　e　in　broken…down　wagons　and　shays；　carrying　their　breakfasts　with　them　　hampers　of　cold　pancakes　folded　over　fillings　of　wild　strawberry　jam。　Roland　felt　his　stomach　growl　hungrily　and　wondered　again；　with　despair；　where　the　honor　and　the　nobility　of　it　was。　It　seemed　to　him　that　Hax　in　his　dirty　whites；　walk…king　around　and　around　his　steaming；　subterranean　kitchen；　had　more　honor　than　this。　He　fingered　the　splinter　from　the　gallows　tree　with　sick　bewilderment　Cuthbert　lay　beside　him　with　his　face　made　impassive。
In　the　end　it　was　not　so　much；　and　Roland　was　glad。　Hax　was　carried　in　an　open　cart；　but　only　his　huge　girth　gave　him　away；　he　had　been　blindfolded　with　a　wide　black　cloth　that　hung　down　over　his　face。　A　few　threw　stones；　but　most　merely　continued　with　their　breakfasts。
A　gunslinger　whom　the　boy　did　not　know　（he　was　glad　his　father　had　not　drawn　the　lot）　led　the　fat　cook　carefully　up　the　steps。　Two　Guards　of　the　Watch　had　gone　ahead　and　stood　on　either　side　of　the　trap。　When　Hax　and　the　gunslinger　reached　the　top；　the　gunslinger　threw　the　noosed　rope　over　the　crosstree　and　then　put　it　over　the　cook's　head；　dropping　the　knot　until　it　lay　just　below　the　left　ear。　The　birds　had　all　flown；　but　Roland　knew　they　were　waiting。
〃Do　you　wish　to　make　confession？〃　the　gunslinger　asked。
〃I　have　nothing　to　confess；〃　Hax　said。　His　words　carried　well；　and　his　voice　was　oddly　dignified　in　spite　of　the　muffle　of　cloth　which　hung　over　his　lips。　The　cloth　ruffled　slightly　in　the　faint；　pleasant　breeze　that　had　blown　up。