Wizard and glass - Stephen King [282]
Jonas raised his hand, looked at the blue coffin tattooed there for a second, then turned and called for Quint. “You’re in charge,” Jonas told him.
Quint’s shaggy eyebrows shot up. “Me?”
“Yar. But you’re not going on—there’s been a change of plan.”
“What—”
“Listen and don’t open your mouth again unless there’s something you don’t understand. Get that damned black cart turned around. Put your men around it and hie on back the way we came. Join up with Lengyll and his men. Tell them Jonas says wait where you find em until he and Reynolds and Renfrew come. Clear?”
Quint nodded. He looked bewildered but said nothing.
“Good. Get about it. And tell the witch to put her toy back in its bag.” Jonas passed a hand over his brow. Fingers which had rarely shaken before had now picked up a minute tremble. “It’s distracting.”
Quint started away, then looked back when Jonas called his name.
“I think those In-World boys are out here, Quint. Probably ahead of where we are now, but if they’re back the way you’re going, they’ll probably set on you.”
Quint looked nervously around at the grass, which rose higher than his head. Then his lips tightened and he returned his attention to Jonas.
“If they attack, they’ll try to take the ball,” Jonas continued. “And sai, mark me well: any man who doesn’t die protecting it will wish he had.” He lifted his chin at the vaqs, who sat astride their horses in a line behind the black cart. “Tell them that.”
“Aye, boss,” Quint said.
“When you reach Lengyll’s party, you’ll be safe.”
“How long should we wait for yer if ye don’t come?”
“Til hell freezes over. Now go.” As Quint left, Jonas turned to Reynolds and Renfrew. “We’re going to make a little side-trip, boys,” he said.
10
“Roland.” Alain’s voice was low and urgent. “They’ve turned around.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. There’s another group coming along behind them. A much larger one. That’s where they’re headed.”
“Safety in numbers, that’s all,” Cuthbert said.
“Do they have the ball?” Roland asked. “Can you touch it yet?”
“Yes, they have it. It makes them easy to touch even though they’re going the other way now. Once you find it, it glows like a lamp in a mineshaft.”
“Does Rhea still have the keeping of it?”
“I think so. It’s awful to touch her.”
“Jonas is afraid of us,” Roland said. “He wants more men around him when he comes. That’s what it is, what it must be.” Unaware that he was both right and badly out in his reckoning. Unaware that for one of the few times since they had left Gilead, he had lapsed into a teenager’s disastrous certainty.
“What do we do?” Alain asked.
“Sit here. Listen. Wait. They’ll bring the ball this way again if they’re going to Hanging Rock. They’ll have to.”
“Susan?” Cuthbert asked. “Susan and Sheemie? What about them? How do we know they’re all right?”
“I suppose that we don’t.” Roland sat down, cross-legged, with Rusher’s trailing reins in his lap. “But Jonas and his men will be back soon enough. And when they come, we’ll do what we must.”
11
Susan hadn’t wanted to sleep inside—the hut felt wrong to her without Roland. She had left Sheemie huddled under the old hides in the corner and taken her own blankets outside. She sat in the hut’s doorway for a little while, looking up at the stars and praying for Roland in her own fashion. When she began to feel a little better, she lay down on one blanket and pulled the other over her. It seemed an eternity since Maria had shaken her out of her heavy sleep, and the open-mouthed, glottal snores drifting out of the hut didn’t bother her much. She slept with her head pillowed on one arm, and didn’t wake when, twenty minutes later, Sheemie came to the doorway, blinked at her sleepily, and then walked off into the grass to urinate. The only one to notice him was Caprichoso, who stuck out his long muzzle and took a nip at Sheemie’s butt as the boy passed him. Sheemie, still mostly asleep, reached back and