all, asked Patrick to draw it, hadn't he? He thought of how, if Susannah had been here, their eyes would have met with amused understanding, as the eyes of parents do over the antics of a small child. But she wasn't here, of course; she'd been the last of them and now she was gone, too.
"All right, can'ee see howgit rosen-gaff a tweakit better?" he asked, striving to sound comic and only sounding cross-cross and tired.
Patrick, at least, didn't react to the harshness in the gunslinger's tone; probably didn't even ken what I said, Roland thought.
The mute boy sat with his ankles crossed and his pad balanced on his thighs, his half-finished plate of food set off to one side.
"Don't get so busy you forget to eat that," Roland said. 'You mind me, now." He got another distracted nod for his pains and gave up. "I'm going to snooze, Patrick. It'll be a long afternoon."
And an even longer night, he added to himself... and yet he had the same consolation as Mordred: tonight would likely be the last. He didn't know for sure what waited for him in the Dark Tower at the end of the field of roses, but even if he managed to put paid to the Crimson King, he felt quite sure that this was his last march. He didn't believe he would ever leave Can'-Ka No Rey, and that was all right. He was very tired. And, despite the power of the rose, sad.
Roland of Gilead put an arm over his eyes and was asleep at once.
FOUR
He didn't sleep for long before Patrick woke him with a child's enthusiasm to show him the first picture of the rose he'd drawn-the sun suggested no more than ten minutes had passed, fifteen at most.
Like all of his drawings, this one had a queer power. Patrick had captured the rose almost to the life, even though he had nothing but a pencil to work with. Still, Roland would much have preferred another hour's sleep to this exercise in art appreciation. He nodded his approval, though-no more grouch and grump in the presence of such a lovely thing, he promised himself-and Patrick smiled, happy even with so little.
He tossed back the sheet and began drawing die rose again.
One picture for each of them, just as Roland had asked.
Roland could have slept again, but what was the point?
The mute boy would be done with the second picture in a matter of minutes and would only wake him again. He went to Oy instead, and stroked die bumbler's dense fur, something he rarely did.
"I'm sorry I spoke rough to'ee, fella," Roland said. "Will you not set me on with a word?"
But Oy would not.
Fifteen minutes later, Roland re-packed the few things he'd taken out of the cart, spat into his palms, and hoisted the handles again. The cart was lighter now, had to be, but it felt heavier.
Of course it's heavier, he thought. It's got my grief in it. I pull it along with me everywhere I go, so I do.
Soon Ho Fat II had Patrick Danville in it, as well. He crawled up, made himself a litde nest, and fell asleep almost at once. Roland plodded on, head down, shadow growing longer at his heels. Oy walked beside him.
One more night, the gunslinger thought. One more night, one more day to follow, and then it's done. One way or t' other.
He let the pulse of the Tower and its many singing voices fill his head and lighten his heels... at least a little. There were more roses now, dozens scattered on either side of the road and brightening the otherwise dull countryside. A few were growing in the road itself and he was careful to detour around them. Tired though he might be, he would not crush a single one, or roll a wheel over a single fallen petal.
FIVE
He stopped for the night while the sun was still well above the horizon, too weary to go farther even though there would be at least another two hours of daylight. Here was a stream that had gone dry, but in its bed grew a riot of those beautiful wild roses. Their songs didn't diminish his weariness, but they revived his spirit to some extent. He thought this was true for Patrick and Oy, as well, and that was good. When Patrick had awakened he'd looked around eagerly at first. Then his face had darkened, and Roland knew he was realizing all over