"Cecilia Dart-Thornton - The Bitterbynde 02 - The Lady of the Sorrows" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dart-Thornton Cecilia)

"'And ye'll get none,' said Yallery Brown, 'but if I can't help, I'll hinder.' It flung itself into a whirling,
reeling dance around Harry, singing:
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Work as thou wilt, thou'lt never do well.
Work as thou mayst, thou'lt never gain grist;
For harm and mischance and Yallery Brown
Thou'st let out thyself from under the stone.
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"As it sang, it pirouetted. Its buttercup tresses and beard spun out all around until it resembled the
spherical head of a giant dandelion that has gone to seed. This thistledown orb blew away, disappearing
into the air, and Harry never again set eyes on Yallery Brown."
"But he was aware of the wight's malevolent presence for the rest of his life; he sensed it opposing
him in everything to which he turned his hand. Forever after that, naught went aright for poor Harry
Millbeck. No matter how hard he worked he couldn't profit by it, and ill-fortune was on whatever he
touched. Until the day of his death Yallery Brown never stopped troubling him, and in his skull the wight's
song went ceaselessly round and round, '. . . for harm and mischance and Yallery Brown thou'st let out
thyself from under the stone.'"
"That's a terrible injustice!" cried the listening girl.
"Aye," said Maeve, "That's the way of unseelie wights and that one is among the wickedest."
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The carlin gave detailed instructions to Tom Coppins, who went off to Caermelor on a pony and
returned three days later laden with parcels.
"What took you so long?" Maeve said impatiently.
"I was bargaining."
"Hmph. I hope you got the better of those rapscallion merchants. How much got you for the
emerald?"
"Twelve guineas, eight shillings, and eightpence."
"And what purchased you with that?"
"Shoes, raiment, and trinkets such as you asked, and a hired carriage to be waiting at the appointed
place at the appointed time."
"Good. Keep half a crown and give the rest to my lady, Rohain of the Sorrows."
Tom Coppins was accustomed to unquestioningly accepting curious events. That a yellow-haired
monster should have entered the cottage and been transformed was no more strange than many things he
had seen while in the service of Maeve. He loved the old carlin with unswerving loyaltyтАФwhatever she
needed, he would fetch; whatever she asked, he would do, and without question. He was an astute lad
and warmhearted. In the time he had been in Maeve's service, he had seen beyond the aspect of a simple
old woman, the aspect the world saw. He had been witness to the carlin's true dignity and power made
manifest.
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That night, Tom washed Imrhien-Rohain's hair with an iron-willow mordant. He rubbed in a thick
mud of pounded and soaked iris-roots, then rinsed the hair again with the mordant, as Janet had done to
Diarmid's locks in the valley of roses. The black-haired girl shook out her sable tresses in front of the fire.
The swanmaiden's eyes gleamed from the shadows. Maeve brought food for the
wight-in-woman-form, speaking to her in a low, foreign voice.
The next morning, at uhta, the eldritch maiden departed. Before she left, Imrhien-Rohain saw her
standing framed in the doorway, her fair face and slender arms gleaming white against the nightshade of
her cloak and hair. The lovely wight offered a single black feather to Maeve. Then she slipped behind the
doorpost and vanished. A moment later, with a rush and a whirr, dark wings lifted over the house-roof.
There came a plaintive, mournful cry that was answered from far off.
Maeve stood on the doorstep, her face raised to the sky.