tg.stone of tears-第14章

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ter。　I　thought　it　should　be　up　to　a　Sister；　not　me；　to　decide　if　the　Prelate　was　to　be　awakened　in　the　middle　of　the　night。’
　
　‘Good　thinking。’
　
　‘Now　that　you’re　here；　Sister；　we　should　be　off　to　check　the　others。’　His　expression　darkened　again。　To　make　sure　no　one　heard　anything。’
　
　She　nodded。　‘And　you　had　better　hope　Swordsman　An…dellmere　is　careful　and　doesn’t　fall　off　a　wall　and　break　his　neck；　or　I　will　e　looking　for　you。’　He　gave　an　annoyed　grunt。　‘But　if　you　hear　him　repeat　so　much　as　a　single　word　of　what　he　heard　tonight；　you　find　a　Sister　before　you　stop　to　take　another　breath。’
　
　Through　the　door　and　halfway　down　the　inner　hall；　she　stopped　and　felt　the　shields。　She　held　the　book　to　her　breast　in　both　arms　as　she　concentrated；　searching　for　the　breach。　She　smiled　when　she　found　it：　a　tiny　twist　in　the　weave。　He　had　probably　been　picking　at　it　for　years。　She　closed　her　eyes　and　wove　the　breach　together；　binding　it　with　a　barb　of　power　that　would　thwart　him　if　he　tried　the　same　thing　again。　She　was　ruefully　impressed　by　his　ingenuity；　and　his　persistence。　Well；　she　sighed　to　herself；　what　else　had　he　to　do？
　
　Inside　his　spacious　apartments　the　lamps　were　lit。　Tapestries　hung　on　one　of　the　walls；　and　the　floors　were　generously　covered　with　the　local　colorful；　blue　and　yellow　carpets。　The　bookshelves　were　half　empty。　Books　that　belonged　on　them　lay　open　everywhere；　some　on　the　chairs　and　couches；　some　facedown　on　pillows　on　the　floor；　and　some　stacked　in　disheveled　piles　next　to　his　favorite　chair　beside　the　cold　hearth。
　
　Sister　Margaret　went　to　the　elegant；　polished　rosewood　writing　table　to　the　side　of　the　room。　She　sat　at　the　padded　chair　and；　opening　the　book　on　the　desktop；　flipped　through　it　until　she　came　to　a　clean　page　at　the　end　of　the　writing。　She　didn’t　see　the　Prophet　anywhere。　He　was　probably　in　the　garden。　The　double　doors　to　the　small　garden　were　open；　letting　in　a　gentle　breath　of　warm　air。　From　a　drawer　in　the　desk　she　took　an　ink　bottle；　pen；　and　a　small　sprinkle　box　of　fine　sand；　setting　them　beside　the　open　book　of　prophecies。
　
　When　she　looked　up；　he　was　standing　in　the　half　light　in　the　doorway　to　the　garden；　watching　her。　He　was　in　black　robes　with　the　hood　drawn　up。　He　stood　motionless；　his　hands　in　the　sleeves　of　the　opposite　arms。　He　filled　the　doorway　not　just　with　his　size；　but　with　his　presence。
　
　She　wiggled　the　stopper　from　the　ink　bottle。　‘Good　evening；　Nathan。’
　
　He　took　three　strong；　slow　strides　out　of　the　shadows　and　into　the　lamplight；　pushing　back　the　black　hood　to　uncover　his　full　head　of　long；　straight；　white　hair　that　touched　his　broad　shoulders。　The　top　of　the　metal　collar　just　barely　showed　at　the　neck　of　his　robes。　The　muscles　in　his　strong；　clean…shaven　jaw　tightened。　White　eyebrows　hooded　his　deep；　dark；　azure　eyes。　He　was　a　ruggedly　handsome　man；　despite　being　the　oldest　man　she　had　ever　known。
　
　And；　he　was　quite　mad。　Or　he　was　quite　clever；　and　wanted　everyone　to　think　he　was　mad。　She　wasn’t　sure　which　was　true。　No　one　was。
　
　Either　way；　he　was　probably　the　most　dangerous　man　alive。
　
　‘Where　is　the　Prelate？’　he　asked　in　a　deep；　menacing　voice。
　
　She　picked　up　the　pen。　‘It　is　the　middle　of　the　night；　Nathan。　We　are　not　going　to　wake　the　Prelate　simply　because　you　throw　a　fit；　demanding　she　e。　Any　Sister　can　write　down　a　prophecy。　Why　don’t　you　sit　down　and　we　can　begin。’
　
　He　came　to　the　desk；　opposite　her；　towering　over　her。　‘Don’t　test　me；　Sister　Margaret。　This　is　important。’
　
　She　glowered　up　at　him。　‘And　don’t　you　test　me；　Nathan。　Need　I　remind　you　that　you　will　lose？　Now　that　you　have　gotten　me　out　of　my　bed　in　the　middle　of　the　night；　let’s　get　this　over　so　I　may　return　to　it　and　try　to　salvage　a　part　of　a　night’s　sleep。’
　
　‘I　asked　for　the　Prelate。　This　is　important。’
　
　‘Nathan；　we　have　yet　to　decipher　prophecies　you　gave　us　years　ago。　It　could　not　possibly　make　any　difference　if　you　give　this　one　to　me　and　she　reads　it　in　the　morning；　or　next　week；　or　next　year　for　that　matter。’
　
　‘I　have　no　prophecy　to　give。’
　
　Her　anger　rose。　‘You　have　called　me　from　my　bed　for　pany？’
　
　A　broad　smile　spread　on　his　lips。　‘Would　you　object？　It’s　a　beautiful　night。　You　are　a　handsome　enough　woman；　if　a　little　tightly　wound。’　He　cocked　his　head　to　the　side。　‘No？　Well；　since　you　have　e；　and　must　have　a　prophecy；　would　you　like　me　to　tell　you　of　your　death？’
　
　The　Creator　will　take　me　when　He　chooses。　I　will　leave　it　to　Him。’
　
　He　nodded；　staring　off　over　her　head。　‘Sister　Margaret；　would　you　have　a　woman　sent　to　visit　me？　I　find　I　am　lonely　of　late。’
　
　‘It　is　not　the　task　of　the　Sisters　to　procure　harlots　for　you。’
　
　‘But　they　have　seen　to　a　courtesan　for　me　in　the　past；　when　I　have　given　prophecies。’
　
　With　deliberate　care；　she　set　the　pen　on　the　desk。　‘And　the　last　one　left　before　we　could　talk　to　her。　She　ran　back　half　naked　and　half　mad。　How　she　got　through　the　guards；　we　still　don’t　know。
　
　‘You　promised　not　to　speak　prophecies　to　her。　You　promised；　Nathan。　Before　we　could　find　her　she　had　repeated　what　you　had　told　her。　It　spread　like　a　wild　fire。　It　started　a　civil　war。　Nearly　six　thousand　people　died　because　of　what　you　told　that　young　woman。’
　
　His　worried；　white　eyebrows　went　up。　‘Really？　I　never　knew。’
　
　She　took　a　deep　breath　and　spoke　in　a　soft　voice　to　control　her　anger。　‘Nathan；　I　myself　have　told　you　this　three　times　now。’
　
　He　looked　down　with　sad　eyes。　‘I’m　sorry；　Margaret。’
　
　‘Sister　Margaret。’
　
　‘Sister？　You？　You　are　far　too　young　and　attractive　to　be　a　Sister。　Surely　you　are　but　a　novice。’
　
　She　stood。　‘Good　night；　Nathan。’　She　closed　the　cover　on　the　book　and　started　to　pick　it　up。
　
　‘Sit　down；　Sister　Margaret；’　came　his　voice；　again　full　of　power　and　menace。
　
　‘You　have　nothing　to　tell　me。　I　am　returning　to　my　bed。’
　
　‘I　did　not　say　I　had　nothing　to　tell　you。　I　said　I　had　no　prophecy　to　give。’
　
　‘If　you　have　had　no　vision　and　have　no　prophecy；　what　could　you　possibly　have　to　tell　me？’
　
　He　withdrew　his　hands　from　his　sleeves　and　placed　his　knuckles　on　the　desk；　leaning　close　to　her　face。　‘Sit　down；　or　I　won’t　tell　you。’
　
　Margaret　contemplated　using　her　power；　but　decided　that　it　was　easier；　and　quicker；　to　simply　make　him　happy　and　sit　down。　‘All　right；　I’m　sitting。　What　is　it？’
　
　He　leaned　over　even　more；　his　eyes　going　wide。　There　has　been　a　fork　in　the　prophecies；’　he　whispered。
　
　She　felt　herself　rising　out　of　the　chair。　‘When？’
　
　‘Just　today。　This　very　day。’
　
　Then　why　have　you　called　me　in　the　middle　of　the　night？’
　
　‘I　called　out　as　soon　as　it　came　to　me。’
　
　‘And　why　have　you　not　waited　until　the　morning　to　tell　us　this？　There　have　been　forks　before。’
　
　He　slowly　shook　his　head　as　he　smiled。　‘Not　like　this　one。’
　
　She　didn’t　relish　telling　the　others。　No　one　was　going　to　be　happy　about　this。　No　one　but　Warren；　that　is。　He　would　be　in　a　state　of　glee　to　have　a　piece　to　fit　into　the　puzzle　of　the　prophecies。　The　others；　though；　would　not　be　pleased。　This　meant　years　of　work。
　
　Some　prophecies　were　‘if　and　‘then’　prophecies；　bifurcating　into　several　possibilities。　There　were　prophecies　that　followed　each　branch；　prophecies　to　foretell　events　of　each　fork；　since　not　even　the　prophecies　always　knew　which　events　would　e　to　pass。
　
　Once　one　of　these　kind　of　prophecies　came　to　pass　and　resolved　which　fork　was　to　be　true；　and　one　of　the　alternatives　took　place；　a　prophecy　had　forked；　as　it　was　called。　All　the　prophecies　that　followed　down　the　path　that　had　been　voided　now　became　false　prophecies。　These　themselves　multiplied；　like　the　branches　of　a　tree；　clogging　the　sacred　prophecies　with　confusing；　contradicting；　and　false　information。　Once　a　fork　had　occurred；　the　prophecies　they　now　knew　to　be　false　had　to　be　followed　as　far　as　could　be　traced；　and　pulled　out。
　
　It　was　a　formidable　task。　The　further　the　event　in　question　was　from　the　fork；　the　more　difficult　it　was　to　know　if　it　was　of　the　false　fork；　or　of　the　true。　Worse；　it　wa