LE Modesitt Recluce 12 Wellspring of Chaos (v1.5)

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Two of the armsmen tied her wrists together, behind her back.
I didn t do it- Charee s words were faint but clear. I didn t. She was
dead-
Enough. The burly hangman pulled a heavy black bag over Charee s head, then
put the noose in place.
An off-tempo drumroll echoed through the courtyard, although Kharl could not
see the drummer.
The hangman stepped back and pulled a lever. The trap dropped.
Kharl winced.
Within moments, Charee s body hung limply.
Begin the flogging! snapped Egen.
Kharl didn t feel the lash for the first stroke, and not much for the second.
He lost track after ten, and he didn t feel the last ones, either. That was
because he felt nothing at all.
XII
At some point, Kharl recalled being dragged into a cart, facedown. But each
time the cart rolled over something, his back turned from a mass of pain into
lightning strikes of agony, followed by blackness. About the time when he
struggled into wakefulness again, despite the searing pain across his back,
several people carried him somewhere, saying things he should have recalled,
but didn t.
When he woke, thin knives of pain slashed down his back.
Ohh&
I know. It has to hurt. But they flogged your tunic and undertunic into your
skin, and if I don t clean it out, it will fester, and you will die.
Kharl knew he should recognize the woman s voice, but the pain washed over him
so frequently that he could not concentrate. Go ahead, he mumbled, his
fingers digging into something.
Another strip of pain lanced down his back.
I m sorry, but the cloth, some of it, is matted into your flesh, and there s
even salt they poured in some places. The voice trembled for a moment.
In a moment of clarity, Kharl recognized the speaker. Sanyle?
Yes. Father asked if I d help. I ve been cooking for the boys and watching
over you.
Thank& you&
Just try to lie still. I m mostly finished. Then I can clean out the rest of
the wounds. Father gave me something that will help numb your back when I m
done.
Go& on&
Agony alternated with blackness until he finally succumbed totally to the
darkness. Even then, the darkness was filled with unseen flame.
When Kharl woke again, he was lying facedown on his own bed-the bed he and
Charee had shared for so many years. He swallowed, thinking, for there had
been good times, if few in recent years. The thoughts of what had happened so
suddenly and for so little reason swirled through his mind. At the same time,
his back was still a mass of pain, and even the slightest movement intensified
the agony.
Between the two kinds of pain, it was a while before he realized someone else
was in the small bedchamber. Even so, he had to squint to make out the figure
sitting on the stool opposite the side of the bed his head faced.
Warrl? Kharl croaked the single name.
It s me, Da. Warrl stood and went to the door. He s awake. Then he
returned and sat back down.
Kharl said nothing. What could he say?
Da& Sanyle said& she said& they hung Ma& Why did they do it? Ma didn t do
anything.
Kharl tried to speak, but all he could do was cough, and for a moment, or
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longer, blackness washed over him.
Warrl was still sitting there when Kharl could see once more.
Da?
They& discovered& no way& I could have& killed the black-staffer& wanted
someone to hang& tell the black demons&
Why didn t you stop them? Why didn t you& ?
Warrl, came a voice from behind Kharl, Sanyle s soft voice, your father
tried. My father saw it all. Your da struggled against the arms-men, but there
were scores of them. That s why they whipped him so badly. He tried to stop
them, and they whipped him more.
& why? He didn t kill anyone. Ma didn t, neither&
Let him rest, Warrl. He did the best he could. He did more than most men in
Brysta would ever try.
Before the blackness reclaimed him, Kharl could hear Warrl sniffling, and he
wanted to reach out, to say more.
XIII
Kharl woke abruptly, at the sound of voices beyond the closed bedchamber door.
From the light coming through the windows, and the damp warmth, it seemed to
be late afternoon or early evening. Slowly, he managed to stand, even though
every movement hurt, even after three days when he d done little except eat
and sleep. He made his way to the door, putting his hand on the latch-lever.
Then he stopped as the words in the main room began to make sense.
& he d never understand&
& sees more than you think& Kharl thought the voice was Sanyle s, but it was
hard to tell because she was speaking much less loudly than Arthal.
& never done except what he wanted& never listened to any of us. He should
have listened to Ma& he should have& Arthal s voice was loud and angry.
& done more than you ve seen, Arthal&
& you re just sweet on him& Ma not even gone an eightday&
& who would cook and take care of him? You? You can t fire the stove or boil
water.
& can, too&
& not that I ve seen&
Why should I& after what he did& hasn t even written Aunt Merayni&
Kharl winced at that. He should write Merayni, or even take a day to go visit
his consort s sister. The thought was painful, because Merayni would blame
him. She had a tongue far sharper than Charee s had ever been.
The words died away.
Kharl coughed, then rattled the latch-lever before easing the door open. He
stepped through the doorway, then stopped. The two who had been arguing were
Arthal and Sanyle. Tyrbel s youngest daughter, more than two years older than
Arthal, was slim and dark-haired, but with overlarge eyes and a nose slightly
larger and sharper than her face merited.
Da& ? began Arthal, looking toward Kharl. It hurts, Kharl admitted. But
lying around isn t going to keep the cooperage going, or bring in coins.
I suppose not, Arthal replied.
Doing too much too soon won t help much either, suggested Sanyle. Why don t
you sit down at the table? Supper s almost ready.
Where s Warrl?
He was checking the door bars down below, Sanyle said. He should be back
here any moment. She turned back toward the stove.
Kharl eased his way into the chair where he usually sat, but he had to sit on
the edge so that his shoulders wouldn t touch the wooden spokes. He glanced
toward the stove, where Sanyle was standing and where Charee had so often
stood. For a moment, his eyes clouded, and he could not even see. His lips
tightened. Charee had been right about Jenevra bringing trouble. Charee had
been right about many things. But what was he supposed to have done? Let the
blackstaffer die?
The door from the shop swung open, then closed with a thud.
Everything s barred up, and I closed the shutters, too, Warrl announced even
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before he stepped into the main room.
Thank you, Kharl said.
Da& you re up. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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