The Little Sisters of Eluria

Six women, five old and one young.

Doctors that sang and then crawled away across the floor when dismissed by jingling bells.

And an improbable hospital ward of perhaps a hundred beds, a ward with a silk roof and silk walls…

…and all the beds empty save three.

Roland didn't understand why Je

Roland closed his eyes, and the soft singing of the doctor-insects once again floated him off into sleep.

IV. A Bowl of Soup. The Boy in the Next Bed. The Night-Nurses.

Roland dreamed that a very large bug (a doctor-bug, mayhap) was flying around his head and banging repeatedly into his nose-collisions which were a

I'm slow because I've been sick, he thought.

No, ambushed. Dragged across the ground by slow mutants, saved by the Little Sisters of Eluria.

Roland had a sudden, vivid image of a man's shadow growing from the shadow of an overturned freight-wagon; heard a rough, gleeful voice cry, “Booh!”

He jerked awake hard enough to set his body rocking in its complication of slings, and the woman who had been standing beside his head, giggling as she tapped his nose lightly with a wooden spoon, stepped back so quickly that the bowl in her other hand slipped from her fingers.

Roland's hands shot out, and they were as quick as ever-his frustrated failure to catch the bug had been only part of his dream. He caught the bowl before more than a few drops could spill. The woman-Sister Coquina-looked at him with round eyes.

There was pain all up and down his back from the sudden movement but it was nowhere near as sharp as it had been before, and there was no sensation of movement on his skin. Perhaps the “doctors” were only sleeping, but he had an idea they were gone.

He held out his hand for the spoon Coquina had been teasing him with (he found he wasn't surprised at all that one of these would tease a sick and sleeping man in such a way; it only would have surprised him if it had been Je

“How speedy ye are!” she said. “'Twas like a magic trick, and you still rising from sleep!”

“Remember it, sai,” he said, and tried the soup. There were tiny bits of chicken floating in it. He probably would have considered it bland under other circumstances, but under these, it seemed ambrosial. He began to eat greedily.

“What do “ee mean by that?” she asked. The light was very dim now, the wall-panels across the way a pinkish-orange that suggested sunset. In this light, Coquina looked quite young and pretty… but it was a glamour, Roland was sure; a sorcerous kind of make-up.

“I mean nothing in particular. “ Roland dismissed the spoon as too slow, preferring to tilt the bowl itself to his lips. In this way he disposed of the soup in four large gulps. “You have been kind to me”

“Aye, so we have!” she said, rather indignantly.

“and I hope your kindness has no hidden motive. If it does, Sister, remember that I'm quick. And, as for myself, I have not always been kind.”

She made no reply, only took the bowl when Roland handed it back. She did this delicately, perhaps not wanting to touch his fingers. Her eyes dropped to where the medallion lay, once more hidden beneath the breast of his bed-dress. He said no more, not wanting to weaken the implied threat by reminding her that the man who made it was unarmed, next to naked, and hung in the air because his back couldn't yet bear the weight of his body.

“Where's Sister Je

“Oooo!” Sister Coquina said, raising her eyebrows. “We like her, do we? She makes our heart go… “ She put her hand against the rose on her breast and fluttered it rapidly.

“Not at all, not at all,” Roland said, “but she was kind. I doubt she would have teased me with a spoon, as some would.”

Sister Coquina's smile faded. She looked both angry and worried. “Say nothing of that to Mary, if she comes by later. Ye might get me in trouble.”

“Should I care?”

“I might get back at one who caused me trouble by causing little Je

This was no sooner out of her mouth before Sister Coquina put her hand over that frequently imprudent organ, as if realizing she had said too much.

Roland, intrigued by what she'd said but not liking to show it just now, only replied: “I'll keep my mouth shut about you, if you keep your mouth shut to Sister Mary about Je

Coquina looked relieved. “Aye, that's a bargain. “ She leaned forward confidingly. “She's in Thoughtful House. That's the little cave in the hillside where we have to go and meditate when Big Sister decides we've been bad. She'll have to stay and consider her impudence until Mary lets her out. “ She paused, then said abruptly: “Who's this beside ye? Do ye know?”

Roland turned his head and saw that the young man was awake, and had been listening. His eyes were as dark as Je

“Know him?” Roland asked, with what he hoped was the right touch of scorn. “Should I not know my own brother?”

“Is he, now, and him so young and you so old?” Another of the sisters materialized out of the darkness: Sister Tamra, who had called herself one-and-twenty. In the moment before she reached Roland's bed, her face was that of a hag who will never see eighty again… or ninety. Then it shimmered and was once more the plump, healthy countenance of a thirty-year-old matron. Except for the eyes. They remained yellowish in the corneas, gummy in the corners, and watchful.

“He's the youngest, I the eldest,” Roland said. “Betwixt us are seven others, and twenty years of our parents” lives.”

“How sweet! And if he's yer brother, then ye'll know his name, won't ye? Know it very well.”

Before the gunslinger could flounder, the young man said: “They think you've forgotten such a simple hook as John Norman. What culleens they be, eh, Jimmy?”

Coquina and Tamra looked at the pale boy in the bed next to Roland's, clearly angry… and clearly trumped. For the time being, at least.

“You've fed him your muck,” the boy (whose medallion undoubtedly proclaimed him John, Loved of Family, Loved of God) said “Why don't you go, and let us have a natter?”

“Well!” Sister Coquina huffed. “I like the gratitude around here, so I do!”

“I'm grateful for what's given me,” Norman responded, looking at her steadily, “but not for what folk would take away.”

Tamra snorted through her nose, turned violently enough for her swirling dress to push a draught of air into Roland's face, and then took her leave. Coquina stayed a moment.

“Be discreet, and mayhap someone ye like better than ye like me will get out of hack in the morning, instead of a week from tonight.”

Without waiting for a reply, she turned and followed Sister Tamra.

Roland and John Norman waited until they were both gone, and then Norman turned to Roland and spoke in a low voice. “My brother. Dead?”

Roland nodded. “The medallion I took in case I should meet with any of his people. It rightly belongs to you. I'm sorry for your loss.”

“Thankee-sai. “ John Norman's lower lip trembled, then firmed. “I knew the green men did for him, although these old biddies wouldn't tell me for sure. They did for plenty, and cotched the rest.”