"Bujold, Lois McMaster - Chalion 2 - Paladin of Souls" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bujold Lois McMaster)

УWho ends up in charge, then?Ф
He cleared his throat. УAlmost always the demon. Eventually. But with this young elemental, Foix would be master at first, if he made the attempt. I do not mean to discuss this with him, or plant the suggestion, and I beg you will be careful, too, Royina. The more . . . intertwined they become, the harder they will be to separate.Ф
He added lowly, УBut where are they coming from? What rip in hell is leaking them back into the world in such sudden numbers? My order is called to be guardians upon that march, as surely as troops of the SonТs or the DaughterТs Orders ride out in the sun armed with swords and shields against more material evil. The fifth godТs servants walk singly in the darkness, armed with our wits.Ф He heaved a disconsolate sigh. УI could wish for a better weapon, just now.Ф
УSleep will sharpen all our wits, we must hope,Ф said Ista. УPerhaps the morning will bring some better counsel.Ф
УI pray it may be so, Royina.Ф
He walked her back through the brush to her bower. Ista forbore to wish him pleasant dreams. Or any dreams at all.
***
The anxious Ferda roused everyone at dawn except his brother. Only when breakfast was ready to be served did he squat beside that bedroll and carefully touch the heavy sleeping form upon the shoulder. Liss, passing by Ista lugging a saddle, paused and watched this worried tenderness, and her lips pinched with distress.
They wasted little time eating, breaking camp, and taking again to the stony, winding track. The irregular hills discouraged speed, but Ferda led at a steady pace that ate the miles nonetheless. The morning and the road slowly fell behind them.
The company was largely silent, pushing along lost in who-knew-what sober reflections. Ista could not decide which development she liked least, FoixТs acquisition or dy CabonТs dreams. FoixТs bear-demon might be mischance, if chance it was. Dy CabonТs dreams were plain warnings, perhaps deceptive to heed, but perilous to ignore.
The concatenation of the uncanny beginning to swirl about Ista set her neck hairs standing and her teeth on edge. She felt a disturbing sense of having stepped into a pattern not yet perceived. Yes. We turn for home at Maradi.
Her silent decision brought no relief; the tension remained, like a cable strained to snapping. Like the breathless pressure that had shot her out the postern gate and down the road in court mourning and silk slippers, that morning in Valenda. I must move. I cannot be still.
Where? Why?
The hill country here was even drier than farther south, though the streams still ran full from the spring melt, above. The gnarled pines grew smaller and more scattered, and long bony washes almost devoid of vegetation became more frequent. When they topped a rise, dy Cabon glanced back over their track. He pulled his mule up abruptly. УWhatТs that?Ф
Ista twisted in her saddle. Just coming over the distant crest of the descending ridge behind them was a riderЧno, riders.
Foix called, УFerda? You have the better eyes.Ф
Ferda wheeled his horse and squinted in the bright light; the sun was growing hotter, climbing toward noon. УMen on horses.Ф His expression grew grim. УArmedЧI see chain mailЧspears. Their armor is in the Roknari style . . . BastardТs demЧfive gods! Those are the tabards of the princedom of Jokona. I can see the white birds on the green even from here.Ф
They still looked like green blurs to Ista, though she squinted, too. She said uneasily, УWhat are they doing here, in this peaceful land? Are they merchantТs guards, leading a caravan? Emissaries?Ф
Ferda stood in his stirrups, craned his neck. УSoldiers. All soldiers.Ф He glanced around at his little company and touched his sword hilt. УWell, so are we.Ф
УAh . . . Ferda?Ф said Foix after a moment. УTheyТre still coming.Ф
Ista could see his lips move as he kept count. Rank on rank, riding two or three abreast, the interlopers poured over the lip of the hill. IstaТs own count had passed thirty when dy Cabon, whose face had gone the color of lard, signed himself and looked across at her. He had to cough before he could form words. They seemed to catch on his dry lips. УRoyina? I do not think we want to meet these men.Ф
УI am certain of it, Learned.Ф Her heart was starting to pound.
The columnТs leaders had seen them, too. Men pointed and yelled.
Ferda dropped his arm and shouted back over his company, УRide on!Ф
He led the way down the track at a brisk canter. The baggage mules resisted being towed at this speed, and slowed the men who had them in charge. Dy CabonТs more willing mule did better at first, but it grunted with each stride at the jouncing weight it bore. So did dy Cabon. When they reached the top of the next rise, half a mile on, they could see that the Jokonan column had dispatched a squad of a double dozen riders out ahead, galloping with the clear intent of overtaking IstaТs party.
Now it was a race, and they were not fitted for it. The baggage mules might be abandoned, but what of the divineТs beast? Its nostrils were round and red, its white hair was already starting to lather at its neck and shoulder and between its hind legs, and despite dy CabonТs kicks and shouts it kept breaking from a canter into a bone-jarring fast trot. It shook dy Cabon like a pudding; his face went from scarlet to pale green and back again. He looked close to vomiting from the exertion and terror.
If this was the raiding column it appearedЧand how in five godsТ names had it appeared from the south of them, so unheralded?ЧIsta might cry ransom for herself and the DaughterТs men. But a divine of the fifth god would be treated as heretic and defiledЧthey would indeed start by cutting off dy CabonТs thumbs. And then his tongue, and then his genitals. After that, depending on their time and ingenuity, whatever ghastly death the Quadrene soldiers could devise, or urge each other on toЧhanging, impalement, something even worse. Three nights heТd dreamed of this, dy Cabon had said, each different. Ista wondered what death could possibly be more grotesque than impalement.
The country offered poor cover. The trees were small, and even if any overhung the road, she wasnТt sure they could boost the wheezing divine up one. His white robes, dirty as they were, would shine like a beacon through the leaves. TheyТd show up for half a mile through the scrub, as would his mule. But then they topped another rise, temporarily out of sight of their pursuers, and at the bottom of this wash . . .
She lashed her horse forward beside FerdaТs, and shouted, УThe divineЧhe must not be taken!Ф
He looked back over his company and signed agreement. УExchange horses?Ф he cried doubtfully.
УNot good enough,Ф she shouted back. She pointed ahead. УHide him in the culvert!Ф
She slowed her horse, letting the others pass her, till dy CabonТs mule labored up. Foix and Liss reined back with her.
УDy Cabon!Ф she cried. УDid you ever dream about being pulled out of a culvert?Ф
УNo, lady!Ф he quavered back between jounces.
УHide you in that one, then, till they all pass over you.Ф FoixЧFoix was in hideous danger if taken, too, if the Quadrenes should learn of his demon affliction. They might well take him for a sorcerer and burn him alive. УDid you dream of Foix with you?Ф
УNo!Ф
УFoix! Can you stay with himЧhelp him? Keep both your heads down and donТt come out, no matter what!Ф
Foix glanced down the track at the cover she pointed to and seemed to understand the plan at once. УAye, Royina!Ф
They scraped to a halt over the culvert. The streamlet here did not fill it full, though it would be a cramped, wet, uncomfortable crouch, especially for dy CabonТs quivering bulk. Foix swung down, threw his reins to Pejar, and caught the gasping divine as he half fell from his animal. УWrap this around you, hide those white robes.Ф Foix tossed his gray cloak around dy Cabon, hustling him off the road. Another guard began grimly towing dy CabonТs mule; relieved of its great burden, it broke again into a canter. A canter wasnТt going to be enough, Ista thought.
УLook after each other!Ф she cried in desperation. The pair was already scrambling into the low mouth of the culvert, and she could not tell if they heard her or not.
They started forward once again. There was another here who must not be taken by the rough soldiery, she thought. УLiss!Ф she called. The girl rode nearer. IstaТs horse was dark with sweat, blowing; LissТs tall bay still cantered easily.
УRide aheadЧФ
УRoyina, I wonТt leave youЧФ
УFool girl, listen! Ride ahead and carry warning to anyone you pass, Jokonan raiders are coming. Raise the countryside! Get help and send it back!Ф
Understanding dawned in her face. УAye, Royina!Ф
УRide like the wind! DonТt look back!Ф
Liss, face set, saluted her and bent over her horseТs neck. Its stride lengthened. The three or four galloping miles theyТd covered so far were clearly but a warm-up for it. In moments, the bay outpaced every horse in the party and started to draw ahead.
Yes, fly, girl. You donТt even have to outride the Jokonans, as long as you can outride us . . .
As they topped the next rise, where the road swung out around a bulge in the hill, Ista looked back. There was no sign whatever of the divine or Foix. The first Jokonan riders were galloping across the culvert without pausing or looking down, intent on their quarry ahead. The tightness in IstaТs chest eased a little, even as she gasped for breath.
At last, her whirling brain began to take thought for herself. If captured, should she maintain her incognito? What worth would a minor female cousin of the rich provincar of Baocia seem to them? Would Sera dy AjeloТs status be enough to buy safety for her men as well as her? But the dowager royina of Chalion, Royina IselleТs own mother, was far too exciting a prize to let fall into the grubby hands of a pack of Jokonan soldier-bandits. She glanced around at her grimly intent outriders. I donТt want these loyal young men to die for me. I donТt want any man to die for me, ever again.