"Dart-Thornton,.Cecilia.-.Bitterbynde.02.-.Lady.Of.The.Sorrows.V2" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dart-Thornton Cecilia)

Guards lounging under the portals had a word with her coachman. Through the windows they eyed the passenger with curiosity as the vehicle went by. Imrhien-Rohain drew the curtains against their intrusion. Beyond, voices rose and fell, wheels rattled, seagulls mewed. Children yelled. In booming tones a town crier shouted, "Hear ye! Hear ye!"
She had come at last to Caermelor.

2
CAERMELOR, PART I
Vogue and Vanity


Euphonic fountains splash, by arbor walls
where climbing roses, red and yellow, cling.
Proud peacocks strut on sweeping, verdant lawns
and nightingales in gilded cages sing.
Glass carriages with plumed and matching teams
roll on amidst this royal plenitude,
By ornamental lakes where sleek swans glide,
reflecting on their mirrored pulchritude.

The silk and satin ladies with their fans
incline upon the marble balustrade.
The night will see them dance like butterflies,
when they attend the Royal Masquerade.
Fair jewels gleam on ev'ry courtly peer:
bright rubies, sapphires, diamonds, and pearls.
The costliest of velvets, plumes, and furs
adorn dukes, viscounts, marquesses, and earls.

Prosperity and luxury abound;
sweet music plays as nobles feast and sport.
The rarest beauty and the greatest wealth
are found within the Empire's Royal Court
ЧFASHIONABLE SONG AT THE COURT OF CAERMELOR

Caermelor Palace had been originally constructed as a castle stronghold and still retained its fortified outer structure. Machicolated watchtowers, siege engine towers, stair turrets, a mill tower, round mural towers, square mural towers, and numerous other outjuttings thickened the twelve-foot-deep walls at varying intervals.
The road into the park-like palace grounds crossed the moat by means of a drawbridge. Beyond the drawbridge bulked the garrisoned gatehouse and the barbican. The main outer gate was constructed of solid oak, studded with iron. It could be barred, if necessary, by an iron portcullis that remained raised in times of peace and was lowered only for the purpose of oiling the chains and maintaining the winches.
When this outer gate was shut, persons on foot might enter by a smaller postern set into it, whereupon they would find themselves in a long chamber set within thick walls, with a gate at either endЧthe gatehouse, a solid edifice specifically dedicated to the purpose of providing a space between the inner and outer portals. Peepholes in the walls allowed guards in side passages to inspect purportedly innocent visitors. Those approved visitors might pass through a second gate. It opened onto the outer bailey, which in recent years had been filled with walled gardens and leafy courtyards. A third gate led to the inner bailey with its stables, barracks, parade grounds, kennels, pigeon-lofts, coach-mews, and falconry-mews. It was bordered by the King's Tower winged with fluttering standards, the arsenal tower, the Great Hall with its pentise, two tall Mooring Masts, the solar, and the keep. The windows of the internal buildings had been enlarged from cross-slitted arrow-loops and narrow arches to gracious fenestrations of latticed glass, and greater opulence reigned within them than in former days. The transformation from fortress castle to residential palace had also involved the creation of ornamental gardens around the keep.
Somewhere within the vitals of that keep, Tamlain Conmor, the Most Noble the Duke of Roxburgh, Marquess of Carterhaugh, Earl of Miles Cross, Baron Oakington-Hawbridge, and Lord High Field-Marshal of the DainnanЧto name only his principal titlesЧstrode into the richly furnished suite he always occupied when at Court, calling for his junior valet and his squire.
"Ho, John! Where is my lady wife?"
"The Duchess Alys-Jannetta is at her bower with her ladies, Your Grace," piped the valet.
"So. Have you laid out some clean clouts for the evening?"
"The scarlet hose or the puce, Your Grace?"
"I care not, just as long as they are serviceable enough that they don't split along the crotch seam and let my backside hang out. Wilfred, is Conquest well-polished?"
"Conquest is oiled and polished, sir," replied that young man.
"Give him here." The Dainnan Chieftain stroked the broadsword lovingly; held it up to the light.
"Good." He handed the weapon back to his squire. "See that the new scabbard is maintained as bravely. Who's that at my door? Enter."
A footman opened the sitting-room door. A messenger ran in, went down on one knee before the warrior and bowed, offering a silver salver on which a leaf of parchment flapped. Roxburgh read the note, scratching his bluff chin.
"Very well." He sighed. "Conduct this lady to the Chamber of Ancient Armor. She may await me there. My wife is at her bower, you say?" Crumpling the parchment into a ball, he threw it at John, who ducked too late. The messenger bobbed his head in answer and ran out.
ЧЧЧл╗ЧЧЧЧЧЧл╗ЧЧЧЧЧЧл╗ЧЧЧ
As the sun dipped, the clouds in the west parted, allowing a gleam of bronze to lance the lofty windows of the Chamber of Ancient Armor. The room overlooked a walled courtyard of fountains and statues. Across the tapestries on its walls, scenes from history and legend spread themselves, all with a bellicose theme. Here, two cavalry brigades charged at one another, pennants streaming, helmet plumes, manes, and tails flying, to clash in a tangled mass of armored brawn and rearing, screaming war-horses. There, Dainnan archers in disciplined rows fired a deadly rain of darts, the back line standing with legs astride, braced to shoot, while the front, having spent its arrows, reloaded. On another wall, Warships locked each other in combat among a ferment of storm clouds above a city. Farther on, the infantry of the Royal Legion raged about a trampled field. Their enemies lay thick on the ground and the colors of Eldaraigne fluttered high above.
Afternoon light spilled like brandy across an acorn-patterned carpet at the daintily shod feet of the visitor who sat waiting in a chair heaped with brocade cushions. A page boy in the livery of Roxburgh, gold and gray, stood stiffly at her shoulder.
Filigree brass lamps hung on chains from the ceiling and jutted in curled brackets from the walls. A servant scurried about, kindling them to amber glows. Disappointed, the last of the sunrays withdrew. As they did so, a white-wigged footman entered, wearing black pumps and an iron-gray tail-coat with gold trimmings. He bowed.