"Daley, Brian - Coramonde 01 - The Doomfarers of Coramande UC" - читать интересную книгу автора (Daley Brian)

But little was known of Bey for sure, and few dared pry.
The Prince called to mind the one time that he'd seen Yardiff Bey betray emotion. On that occasion, six months earlier, the wizard Andre deCourteney had come to an audience with Surehand, bringing with him the madman Van Duyn, who claimed to be from another universe, or some such.
Bey had scorned Van Duyn as demented, but appeared to regard Andre deCourteney as a threat, not so
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much to his position as councillor extraordinary to the Ku-Mor-Mai as to his very well-being.
But, with Van Duyn making his outrageous claims and propounding his scandalous ideas for a government by plebiscite, Surehand had hardly needed Bey's urgent prompting to banish the two from Earthfast, provoked as he was by their heresy.
As far as Springbuck could determine, Van Duyn and deCourteney had gone to the little village of Erub, to the northeast, to establish an unorthodox school of their own. The Prince hoped that it was so, and meant to seek them out. He had questions to ask them, particularly about Yardiff Bey.
As he rode along mulling all of this, the scenery had gradually changed from the walls of the gentry who lived near Earthfast to common residences, shop and tavern, and finally the empty market plaza. He cut across the wide square past the Temple of the Bright Lady and quickly made his way up winding byways to the Brass Lion Gate. The guard commander there had just come on watch and was uninclined wpgster himself over an Alebowrenian, all of whom were known for their truculence, especially since the gate would soon be opened anyway for the predawn influx of farmers with their produce and other goods for vending, and so accommodated Springbuck's exit.
The gate yawned behind him as the Prince rode across the hard-trodden earth to where the Western Tangent shone gray and straight in the light of the watchtower. Storm clouds had gathered and a sparse rain began to fall as he spurred his mount away eastward toward Erub. Eastward where, perhaps, Andre deCourteney would have answers and the Prince's confusion and misgivings would be thrown open to the light of wise counsel solicited from one of the best-known wizards of the day.
He let the roncin out to a gallop, heedless of Micko's warning, diverting tension and venting frustration hi a wild ride down the broad, seamless Tangent. The rani misted in a dew on his cloak and the sleek, rolling hide of the horse beneath him, and he removed his war mask to feel the moisture on his face.
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THE DOOMFARERS OF CORAMONDE
He rode expertly, crouched low over the roncin's neck, letting the tearing wind snatch the events of the night from his brain. Lightning was flashing intermittently when he came upon a horse incongruously leg-hobbled alone at the roadside. With a start, he saw that it was his own, Fireheel, and came to a halt.
"I thought that your own horse would give you pause," said a familiar voice, and the Prince's heart clenched with dread. It was a voice he associated with long hours of exhausting training during which he was exhorted to match its ownerЧendless, impossible effortЧone of the most capable warriors alive.
Though the rain was heavier now, and the night dark, Springbuck had no difficulty identifying the man with bow in hand who stepped from behind a nearby tree and up onto the raised surface of the Tangent, arrow nocked, deadly confident.
The lightning flashes showed him EHatim.
Chapter Four
The secret of happiness is freedom, and the secret of freedom is courage.
THUCYDIDES,
the funeral speech for Pericles
HE could see his former martial instructor only dimly in the broken light until the other brought forth a small lantern which had been covered, unshrouded its glow and turned up the wick. He set it down near Fireheel, who dug with a nervous hoof at the impervious Tangent; then he trained the drawn war arrow, barbs glittering coldly, on Springbuck.
The Prince considered his options. His mount was tired and Firebeel looked well rested, so that Eliatim would have no trouble in overtaking him should be bolt. Besides, the man was an uncanny marksman when mounted and an incredible one from stance; Springbuck wouldn't get two lengths before he was spitted. He gnawed his lip and watched the rain splatter down, and a hope began to grow in him. If he could occupy the other's attention for some little while, perhaps the master-of-arms' bowstring would become moist enough in the downpour to make it slack and give him a chance at escape. In any case, he must make some sally or be shot down here and now, on the instant.
Thinking all of this, he answered, "You needn't threaten me. As you can see, I'm leaving Coramonde for all time, going far and for good, I swear."
Gone now were thoughts of retribution. He wanted only to live, and that urge would supplant any other but the strongest. The biting memory of his earlier failure of Hightower tore at him, but immediate danger preempted any bold or defiant words and his survival instinct prodded him to dissemble and say anything, anything to live.
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THE DOOMFARERS OF CORAMONDE
Eliatim cut him short, words curdling with contempt. "You know better than that, boy. We can't afford to have you wander off, even if you mean what you say; it wouldn't be long before you were located and exploited by some troublemaker or other. One of the Southern Warlords, or that heretic deCourteney, possibly? Now, look how easy it was for me, Your Grace. When I returned and found you gone, I had little problem surmising what had happened. Is it of any interest to you that the stableboy is dead? I thought so. I had to interrogate him in some haste. And we'll hoist that damned slacker Brodur, too, when we find him.
"You must have taken a roundabout way to the Brass Lion Gate, but I had the guards pass me through and I knew that we would meet here one last time."
Later, Springbuck promised himself, he would think about poor Micko, how they'd played and joked together, later remember how Micko could sleep between the legs of the most spirited horse in its stall, since he was that close to animals, and how he could never lie well, it being foreign to him to twist things or dress his words up. The Prince must grieve later because now he was poised for the one chance he might get to elude death.
The appalling idea struck him that Eliatim was reading his every thought and intention when the other said, "Come down off your high horse, and I will explain some facts which, I confess, have been kept from you."
Springbuck groped in vain for some reply that would permit him to stay mounted, but complied.
The master-of-arms' eyes were glazed with strong drink or drug. While his tone was almost amiable, the arrow leveled at the Prince's heart was not. Springbuck stood near the roncin and watched the bowstring as if hypnotized, but Eliatim showed no doubt about his weapon's effectiveness. The older man's body was limber and relaxed, hand steady, and the string seemed taut.
As Springback shuffled his booted feet on the hard, tractive surface of the Western Tangent, Eliatim smiled through his stiffly waxed mustache and suddenly lowered the bow, easing tension on the string. "How is it,"
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he asked huskily, "that you never sensed how I anticipated this moment? Long and long I've waited to put you to death, and send my star into the ascendant."
At this the Prince's stomach knotted with fear and the fist with which he held his reins balled even more tightly. His fleeting impulse to leap back onto his horse was cut short at Eliatim's next statement.
"If you try to run I can cut you down before you have both feet in the stirrups. But I do thank you for saving me a long and tiring chase on horseback, for I fear that my bow cord became rather wet as I waited for you. I'm grateful that you follow instructions so well and that you quailed at the sight of my arrow. Now, you see, we can test whether the years I've spent teaching you the policies of combat were wasted. Let us now weigh your prowess with the sword."
So saying, he hurled the bow and arrow aside and took from its scabbard his long, heavy cavalry rapier. Springbuck tried to moisten his lips with a dry tongue. A vault to the saddle was out of the question. He let fall his reins and took his cloak from his shoulders and draped it over his horse's croup. He reluctantly unsheathed Bar, whose grip did not feel slick despite the rain and his clammy palm. Eliatim's eyes narrowed at Bar's bright aspect.
"That hanger is unknown to me," he said. "From whence does it come? Ah, let it pass. I shall have a chance to inspect it at my leisure, presently."
He grinned wickedly. "And while I think to tell you, your ill treatment of the Lady Duskwind was unwarranted. She was no part of our alliance against you. How you found out that Faurbuhl was with us though, I cannot imagine. Serves him justly, the old dough-pate, that you garroted him; he was so damnable certain that you trusted him."
Springbuck's mind whirled as he juggled this new information. Faurbuhl a traitor and Duskwind loyal? He played a gambit to learn more.
"How high do you stand in this, Eliatim? How many are arrayed against me?"
The other threw his head back and gave a short crow of laughter. "How many? Oh you fool! AH, or almost all!
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THE DOOMFARERS OF CORAMONDE
Duskwind proved difficult to subvert, but we had little need of her. She's probably been attended to already. The Court's been weeded carefully, with some stubborn holdouts like Legion-Marshal Bonesteel exiled to duty on far marches and some, like Hightower, killed." He sighed, then giggled, and shook his graying head regretfully. "I'm sorry I missed the end of the great High-tower, but I have business of my own tonight.
"I must say, though, that you were quite clever to kill Faurbuhl and depart while I was gone. Since he had no opportunity to signal your escape, no one suspected it at first. But when Novanwyn and Desenge described their encounter with a peculiar Alebowrenian whom they thought resembled you, I went to your room to investigate."