"Bujold, Lois McMaster - Chalion 3 - The Hallowed Hunt" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bujold Lois McMaster)

УWhat? But arenТt you an officer of the kingТs justice?Ф she said indignantly.
УStrictly speaking, I serve Sealmaster Hetwar.Ф He added after a cautious moment, УIt is Sealmaster HetwarТs steadfast purpose to serve the closest needs of the Weald and its royal house.Ф
Ijada fell silent, dismayed, her brows drawing down.
The Temple sorceress tapped her lips with one finger. She, at least, did not look shocked. But when she spoke again, her swift thoughts had plainly darted down yet another road. УNothing of spirit can exist in the world of matter without a being of matter to support it. Spells are sustained by sorcerers through their demons, which are necessary but not sufficient; the demonТs sustenance must come from the sorcererТs body, ultimately. But your spell was being sustained by you. I suspectЕhm. To use your word, Ijada, a parasite magic? The spell was somehow induced in you, and your life maintained it thereafter. If this strange sorcery has any resemblance to my own, it flows most readily, like water, downhill. It does not create, but steals its capabilities from its host.Ф
This made a visceral sense to Ingrey, but it was not really something he wanted Lady Ijada to hear of him. All sorts of men had the capacity to kill for the convenience of their betters; though usually, the only spell required could be fitted in a clinking purse. He had ridden guard, ready to draw steel in his lordТs defense, any number of times, and wasnТt that much the same thing?
WasnТt it?
УButЕФ IjadaТs lovely lips thinned with thought. УSealmaster Hetwar must have a hundred swordsmen, soldiers, bravos. A half dozen of his guardsmen rode out with you. TheЕthe person, whoeverЧmight have laid the geas on any of them just as well. Why should the only man in Easthome who is known to bear an animal spirit be sent to me?Ф
A flash of expressionЧinsight, satisfaction?Чflew across Learned HallanaТs face and vanished. But she did not speak, only sat back more intently, presumably because leaning forward more intently was not feasible. УIs it widely known, your spiritual affliction?Ф she asked.
Ingrey shrugged. УIt is general gossip, yes. Variously garbled. My reputation is useful to Hetwar. IТm not someone most men want to cross.Ф Or have around them for very long, or invite to their tables, or, above all, introduce to their female kin. But IТm well accustomed to that, by now.
IjadaТs eyes widened. УYou were chosen because your wolf could be blamed! Hetwar chose you. Therefore, he must be the source of the geas!Ф
Ingrey did not care for that thought. УNot necessarily. Lord Hetwar was in consultation for some time before I came. Any man in the room might have suggested me for the task.Ф The wolf part, however, seemed all too plausible. Ingrey himself had been ready to blame his prisonerТs death on his wolf-within. HeТd have stood self-accused, incapable of his own defense. Presuming heТd even survived his attempt on Lady IjadaТs lifeЕhe remembered yesterdayТs near-fatal swim. One way or another, victim and tool would both have been silenced.
Two extremely unpleasant realizations crept over Ingrey. One was that he was still bearing Lady Ijada toward her potential death. Her drowning in the river yesterday could have been no worse than some later poisoning or strangling in her cell, and a hundred times more merciful than the horrors of a dubious trial and subsequent hanging.
And the other was that an enemy of great and secret power was going to be seriously upset when they both arrived at Easthome alive.
CHAPTER SIX
I NGREY WOKE FEVERISH FROM DIMLY REMEMBERED NIGHTMARES. He blinked in the level light coming through the dormer window in the tiny, but private, chamber high up in the eaves of his inn. Dawn. Time to move.
Movement unleashed pain in every strained and sprained muscle he possessed, which seemed to be most of them, and he hastily abandoned his attempt to sit up. But lying back did not bring relief. He gingerly turned his head, his neck on fire, and eyed the trap of crockery heТd set on the floor by his door. The teetering pile appeared undisturbed. Good sign.
The wraps on his wrists and right hand were holding, although stained with brown blood. He stretched and clenched his fingers. So. Last evening had been no dream, for all its hallucinatory terrors. His stomach tightened in anxietyЧpainfullyЧas the memories mounted.
Groaning, he forced himself up again, lurched out of bed, and staggered to his washstand. A left-handed splash of cold water on his face helped nothing. He pulled on his trousers, sat on the edge of his bed, and attempted his boots. They would not slide over his swollen ankles. Defeated, he let them fall to the floor. He lowered his body carefully into his rumpled bed linens. Reason, in his head, seemed replaced by a kind of buzz. He lay for what was probably half the turning of a glass, judging by the creep of the sunlit squares across his wall, with no more useful thought than a surly resentment of his hopeless boots.
Hinges squeaked; a clatter of crockery was overridden by Rider GescaТs startled swearing. Ingrey squinted at the door. Gesca, grimacing in bewilderment, picked his way across the dislodged barrier of tumbling beakers and plates. The lieutenant was dressed for the road in boots and leathers and HetwarТs slate-blue tabard, and tidied for the solemnity of the duty: drab blond hair combed, amiable face new-shaved. He stared down at Ingrey in dismay. УMy lord?Ф
УAh. Gesca.Ф When the noise of rolling saucers died away, Ingrey managed, УHow is pig-boy this morning?Ф
Gesca shook his head, seeming caught between wariness and exasperation. УHis delusions passed off about midnight. We put him to bed.Ф
УSee that he does not approach or annoy Learned Hallana again.Ф
УI donТt think that will be a problem.Ф GescaТs worried eyes summed the bruises and bandages. УLord IngreyЧwhat happened to you last night?Ф
Ingrey hesitated. УWhat do they say happened?Ф
УThey say you were locked in with that sorceress for a couple of hours when suddenly a racket rose from the roomЧhowling, and thumping to bring down the plaster from the ceiling below, and yelling. Sounded like someone being murdered.Ф
AlmostЕ
УThe sorceress and her servants went out later as though nothing had happened, and you left limping, not talking to anyone.Ф
Ingrey reviewed the excuses Hallana had called through the door, as well as he could remember them. УYes. I was carrying aЕham, and a carving knife, and I tripped over a chair.Ф No, she hadnТt said a chair. УUpended the table. Cut my hand going down.Ф
GescaТs face screwed up, as he no doubt tried to picture how this event could result in IngreyТs peculiar array of bandages and bruises. УWeТre almost ready to load up, out there. The Red Dike divine is waiting to bless Prince BolesoТs coffin. Are you going to be able to ride? After your accident.Ф He added after a reflective moment, УAccidents.Ф
Do I look that bad? УDid you deliver my message for Lord Hetwar to the Temple courier?Ф
УYes. She rode out at first light.Ф
УThenЕtell the men to stand down. I expect instructions. Better wait. WeТll take a day to rest the horses.Ф
Gesca gestured assent, but his stare plainly questioned why Ingrey had driven both men and animals to their limits for two long days only to spend the time so gained idling here. He picked up the crockery, set it on the washstand, gave Ingrey another bemused look, and made his way out.
Ingrey had scrawled his latest note to Lord Hetwar immediately upon their arrival last night, reporting the cortege in Red Dike and pressing for relief of his command, feigning inability to supply adequate ceremony. The note had contained, therefore, no word of the Temple sorceress or hint of the later events in that upstairs room. He hadnТt mentioned the incident of the river, or, indeed, any remark upon his prisoner at all. Uneasy awareness of his duty to report the truth to the sealmaster warred now with fear, in his heart. Fear and rage. Who placed that grotesque geas in me, and how? Why was I made a witless tool?
And can it happen again?
His own anger frightened him even as his fear stoked his fury, tightening his throat and making his temples throb. He lay back, trying to remember the hard-won self-disciplines that had stilled him under the earnest holy tortures at Birchgrove. Slowly, he willed his screaming muscles to resistless quiet again.
His wolf had been released last night. He had unchained it. Was it leashed again this morning? And if notЕwhat then? For all the aches in his body, his mind felt no different from any other morning of his adult life. So was his frozen hesitation here in Red Dike just old habit, or was it good sense? Simple prudence, to refuse to advance one step farther toward Easthome in his present lethal ignorance? His physical injuries made a plausible blind to hide behind. But were they a hunterТs screen or just a cowardТs refuge? His caged thoughts circled.
Another tap at the door broke the tensing upward spiral of his disquiet, and a sharp female voice inquired, УLord Ingrey? I need to see you.Ф
УMistress Hergi. Come in.Ф Belatedly, Ingrey grew conscious of his shirtless state. But she was presumably an experienced dedicat of the MotherТs order, and no blushing maiden. Still, it would be courteous to at least sit up. It would.
УHm.Ф Her lips thinned as she stepped to the bedside and regarded him, a coolly capable glint in her eye. УRider Gesca did not exaggerate. Well, there is no help for it; you must get up. Learned Madam wishes to see your prisoner before she leaves, and I would have her on the road home at the earliest moment. We had enough trouble getting here; I dread the return trip. Come, now. Oh, dear. Let me see, better start withЕФ
She plunked her leather case down on the washstand and rummaged within, withdrawing a square blue glass bottle and pulling out the cork stopper. She poured a sinister syrup into a spoon, and as Ingrey creaked up on one elbow to ask, УWhat is it?Ф popped it into his mouth. The liquid tasted utterly vile. He swallowed, afraid to spit it out under her steely gaze.
УA decoction of willow bark and poppy, wine spirits, and a few other useful things.Ф Her gaze traveled up and down his body; she pursed her lips, then bent and administered another spoonful. She nodded shortly and restoppered the bottle. УThat should do it.Ф
Ingrey swallowed medicine and a surge of bile. УItТs revolting.Ф
УEh, youТll change your mind about it soon enough, I warrant. Here. LetТs see how my work is holding up.Ф
Efficiently, she unbound his wrappings, applied new ointment and fresh bandages, daubed the stitches in his hair with something that stung, combed out the tangles, washed his torso, and shaved him, batting his hands away as he tried to protest his own competence to dress himself. УDonТt you be getting my new wraps wet, now, my lord. And stop fighting me. IТll have no delays out of you.Ф
He hadnТt been dressed like this by a woman since he was six, but his pain was fading most deliciously away, to be replaced by a floating lassitude. He stopped fighting her. The intensity of her concentration, he realized dimly, had nothing to do with him.
УIs Learned Hallana all right? After last night?Ф he asked cautiously.
УBabyТs shifted position. Could be a day, could be a week, but there are twenty-five miles of bad roads between here and Suttleaf, and I wish I had her home safe now. Now, you mind me, Lord Ingrey; donТt you dare do anything to detain her. Whatever she wants from you, give it to her without argument, if you please.Ф She sniffed rather fiercely.
УYes, Mistress,Ф Ingrey answered humbly. He added after a blinking moment, УYour potion seems very effective. Can I keep the bottle?Ф
УNo.Ф She knelt by his feet. УOh. Your boots wonТt do, will they? Do you have any other shoes with youЕ?Ф She scavenged ruthlessly in his saddlebags, to emerge with a pair of worn leather buskins that she jammed onto his feet. УUp you come, now.Ф