tg.stone of tears-第127部分

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　purposefully　into　the　hall；　her　wizard　at　her　heels；　his　silver　robes　flying　behind。　Her　regal…looking　white　dress　stood　out　among　the　confusion　of　color　like　the　full　moon　among　the　stars。　Bright　color　and　fancy　dress　had　never　looked　so　unexpectedly　trivial。　Everyone　bowed　low　at　her　passing。　Cyrilla　waited　with　her　advisors　beside　the　table　on　which　sat　a　large；　cut…glass　bowl　of　spiced　wine。
　
　Kahlan　crossed　the　hushed　room；　followed　by　every　eye；　and　drew　to　a　halt　before　the　queen；　giving　a　prompt　bow　of　her　head。　Her　expression　was　as　still　as　ice。　She　didn’t　wait　for　the　formality　of　the　bow　to　her　office　to　be　returned。
　
　‘Queen　Cyrilla。　You　have　an　advisor　named　Drefan　Tross？’
　
　Cyrilla　held　her　open　hand　out　to　the　side。　This　is　he。’
　
　Kahlan’s　emotionless　gaze　moved　to　Drefan。　‘I　would　speak　with　you　in　private。’
　
　‘Drefan　Tross　is　a　trusted　advisor；’　Cyrilla　interrupted。　He　was　more　than　that。　He　was　a　man　she　was　very　fond　of；　a　man　she　was　just　beginning　to　fall　in　love　with。　‘You　may　speak　to　him　in　my　presence。’　She　didn’t　know　what　this　was　about；　but　thought　it　best　if　she　were　privy　to　it。　Confessors　did　not　interrupt　banquets　except　for　trouble。　‘This　is　neither　the　time　nor　place　to　conduct　business　of　this　sort；　Mother　Confessor；　but　if　it　cannot　wait；　then　let　it　be　done　and　finished　with　here　and　now。’
　
　She　thought　that　would　put　it　in　abeyance　until　a　more　appropriate　time。　Without　expression；　the　Mother　Confessor　considered　this　a　moment。　The　wizard　at　her　back　was　anything　but　expressionless。　He　appeared　quite　agitated；　in　fact。
　
　He　bent　toward　Kahlan　to　speak；　but　she　raised　her　hand　to　silence　him　before　he　could　begin。
　
　‘As　you　wish。　I　am　sorry；　Queen　Cyrilla；　but　it　cannot　wait。’　She　returned　her　attention　to　Drefan。　‘I　have　just　taken　the　confession　of　a　murderer。　In　his　confession；　he　also　revealed　himself　to　be　an　acplice　to　an　assassin。　He　named　you　as　that　assassin；　and　your　target　as　Queen　Cyrilla。’
　
　There　were　astonished　whispers　from　those　near　enough　to　overhear。　Drefan’s　face　went　red。　The　whispers　died　into　brittle　silence。
　
　Cyrilla　could　scarcely　follow　what　happened　next。　A　blink　of　the　eye　and　it　would　have　been　missed。　One　instant　Drefan　stood　as　he　had；　with　his　hand　in　his　gold　and　deep　blue　coat；　and　the　next　he　was　driving　a　knife　toward　the　Mother　Confessor。　Standing　tall；　she　moved　only　her　arm；　catching　his　wrist。　Seemingly　at　the　same　time；　there　was　a　violent　impact　to　the　air　…　thunder　but　no　sound。　The　cut…glass　bowl　shattered；　flooding　red　wine　over　the　table　and　floor。　Cyrilla　flinched　with　the　sudden　flash　of　pain　coursing　through　every　joint　in　her　body。　The　knife　clattered　to　the　floor。　Drefan’s　eyes　went　wide；　his　jaw　slack。
　
　‘Mistress；’　he　whispered　reverently。
　
　Cyrilla　was　numb　with　shock　to　see　a　Conffessor　use　her　power。　She　knew　only　of　its　aftereffects；　arid　had　never　seen　it　being　used。　Few　had。　The　magic　seemed　still　to　sizzle　in　the　air　a　long　moment。
　
　The　crowd　pressed　closer。　A　warning　glare　from　the　wizard　changed　their　curiosity　to　timidity；　and　they　moved　back。
　
　Kahlan　looked　drained；　but　her　voice　betrayed　no　weakness。　‘You　intended　to　assassinate　the　queen？’
　
　‘Yes；　Mistress；’　he　said　eagerly；　licking　his　lips。
　
　‘When？’
　
　Tonight。　In　the　confusion　when　the　guests　were　departing。’　Drefan　looked　to　be　in　torment。　Tears　welled　up　and　ran　down　his　cheeks。　‘Please；　Mistress；　mand　me。　Tell　me　what　you　wish。　Let　me　carry　out　your　mand。’
　
　Cyrilla　was　still　in　shock。　This　was　what　had　been　done　to　her　father。　This　was　how　he　had　been　taken　as　a　mate　to　a　Confessor。　First　her　father；　and　now　a　man　she　held　dear。
　
　‘Wait　in　silence；’　Kahlan　ordered。　Hands　hanging　at　her　sides；　she　turned　to　Cyrilla；　her　young　eyes　now　heavy　with　sorrow。　‘Forgive　me　for　disturbing　your　celebration；　Queen　Cyrilla；　but　I　feared　the　results　of　delay。’
　
　Her　face　burning；　Cyrilla　twisted　to　face　Drefan。　He　stood　gaping　at　Kahlan。　‘Who　ordered　this；　Drefan！　Who　ordered　you　kill　me！’
　
　He　didn’t　even　seem　to　be　aware　she　had　spoken。
　
　‘He　will　not　answer　you；　Queen　Cyrilla；’　Kahlan　said。　‘He　will　only　answer　me。’
　
　‘Then　you　ask！’
　
　That　would　not　be　advisable；’　the　wizard　offered　quietly。
　
　Cyrilla　felt　a　fool。　Everyone　knew　of　her　fondness　for　Drefan。　Everyone　saw　now　that　she　had　been　duped。　No　one　would　ever　forget　this　midsummer　festival。
　
　‘Do　not　presume　to　advise　me！’
　
　Kahlan　leaned　closer　and　spoke　softly。　‘Cyrilla；　we　think　he　may　be　protected　by　a　spell。　When　I　asked　his　acplice　that　question；　he　died　before　he　could　answer。　But　I　believe　I　know　the　answer。　There　are　oblique　ways　of　getting　the　information　that　might　possibly　circumvent　the　spell。　If　I　could　take　him　somewhere　alone　and　question　him　in　my　own　way；　we　might　be　able　to　get　the　answer。’
　
　Cyrilla　was　near　tears　with　fury。　‘I　trusted　him！　He　was　close　to　me！　He　has　betrayed　me！　Me；　not　you！　I　will　know　who　sent　him！　I　will　hear　it　from　his　own　lips！　You　stand　in　my　kingdom；　in　my　home！　Ask　him！’
　
　Kahlan　straightened；　her　face　returning　to　the　calm　mask　that　showed　nothing。　‘As　you　wish。’　She　redirected　her　attention　to　Drefan。　‘Was　what　you　intended　to　do　to　the　queen　of　your　own　volition？’
　
　He　dry…washed　his　hands　in　anxious　anticipation　of　pleasing　the　Mother　Confessor。　‘No；　Mistress。　I　was　sent。’
　
　If　it　was　possible；　Kahlan’s　face　seemed　to　bee　even　more　placid。　‘Who　sent　you？’
　
　One　hand　rose；　and　his　mouth　opened；　as　if　in　an　attempt　to　do　her　bidding。　All　that　came　from　his　throat　was　a　gurgle　of　blood　before　he　collapsed。
　
　The　wizard　gave　a　knowing　grunt。　‘As　I　thought：　the　same　as　the　other。’
　
　Kahlan　picked　up　the　knife　and　offered　it　handle…first　to　Cyrilla。　‘We　believe　there　to　be　a　conspiracy　of　great　magnitude　brewing。　Whether　or　not　this　man　was　part　of　it　I　don’t　know；　but　he　was　sent　by　Kelton。’
　
　‘Kelton！　I　refuse　to　believe　that。’
　
　Kahlan　nodded　at　the　knife　in　Cyrilla’s　hand。　‘The　knife　is　Keltish。’
　
　‘Many　people　carry　weapons　forged　in　Kelton。　They　are　some　of　the　finest　made。　That　is　hardly　proof　enough　for　such　an　accusation。’
　
　Kahlan　stood　unmoving。　Cyrilla　was　too　upset　at　that　moment　to　wonder　what　thoughts　could　have　been　going　on　behind　those　green　eyes。　Kahlan’s　voice　finally　came　without　emotion。　‘My　father　taught　me　that　the　Keltans　will　strike　for　only　two　reasons。　First　out　of　jealousy；　and　second　when　they　are　tempted　by　weakness。　He　said　that　either　way；　they　will　always　first　test　by　trying　to　kill　the　strongest；　highest…ranking；　of　their　opponents　they　can。　Galea　is　now　the　strongest　it　has　ever　been；　thanks　to　you；　and　the　midsummer　festival　is　the　mark　of　that　strength。　You　are　the　cause　of　that　jealousy；　and　a　symbol　of　that　strength。
　
　‘My　father　also　said　that　you　must　always　keep　an　eye　to　the　Keltans；　and　never　offer　them　your　back。　He　said　that　if　you　thwart　them　in　the　first　attempt；　it　deepens　their　hunger　for　your　blood；　and　they　will　always　lie　in　wait　for　any　weakness　so　they　may