"I 03 - Brothers Majere" - читать интересную книгу автора (3))

"I think you dropped something," said Caramon, jostling one of the kender's pouches and spilling its contents on the floor.
Glass and ivory game pieces rolled across the wood, one of the pieces coming to rest at Raistlin's feet. Reaching down, he picked it up. It was a small, yellowing statue carved into the likeness of a beautiful woman-beautiful, regal, evil, domineering. The mage held it up to his eyes, inspecting it, observing every tiny detail cut into the bone. Turning it over to look at the pedestal on which the woman stood, he saw an "X" on the bottom, a sign designating the piece as the Dark Queen in one of the mage's favorite games. Wizards and Warriors.
"It can't be coincidence," he murmured. "The 'cats de-
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cide the fate,' and they are vanishing. The time of the Great Eye comes once again, when untold power awaits those who can use it. If I were the Dark Queen and I wanted to choose a time to come back into the world . . ." Raistlin's voice died.
Caramon scoffed. "Hey, don't talk like that, Raist! You said it yourself. Coincidence. We'll find the cats, and there'll be a perfectly logical explanation for their disappearance. Maybe it'll be like that story about the guy with the flute who came into a town and played, and all of the rats followed him past the city limits."
"But you forget the end of the story, my brother. In the end, the piper came back and stole away the children."
Caramon kept silent. He didn't think he'd helped matters any.
Looking at the game piece carefully one more time, Raistlin handed it back to the kender. Earwig looked at the piece as carefully as the mage had, but he didn't find anything of interest. It was just another game piece.
'Fate moves the free,' " Caramon said under his breath, repeating one of his current, favorite proverbs. "What do we do now?"
"It's time we explored the city of Mereklar."
"How about seeing this Councillor Shavas? Shouldn't we go meet her?"
"I think, my brother, that I will let her come to me," said Raistlin coolly.
"You're strangers, so you don't see it like we do."
"I guess not, ma'am," Caramon said. "To me, this place looks overrun."
"No, sir, no. Where once there were thousands, there are now few. Too few," said the old woman.
"That's true," added a man who was seated at another
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table. "From morning to evening, the cats would roam the streets. White, gray, brown, striped, spotted, mottled. All sorts."
"Except black," the old woman interposed. "We never knew why, but there wasn't a black cat among the lot of 'em."
''Some think mages came and took the black ones," said the man, glowering darkly at Raistlin.
Raistlin lifted an eyebrow and glanced at his brother. Caramon, looking uncomfortable, buried his head in a mug of ale. The three companions were wandering through the city, supposedly seeing the sights. But every time they came to any sort of a tavern, Raistlin insisted on going inside. He left most of the conversing to his brother, The handsome, good-natured fighter took to people easily, and they likewise warmed to him.
Caramon wondered, at first, how they were going to pay for what they drank, but all Raistlin had to do was to produce the scrollcase and, at the sight of it, no one ever asked them for money.
Raistlin listened and kept an eye on the kender, watching to note if anyone took an unusual interest in the skull necklace Earwig wore.
"We always left plates of food and small bowls of milk outside our house for the cats to eat and drink," a middle-aged man told the warrior, "though sometimes we simply left the doors open and waited for the cats to come inside, where they could join us for breakfast."
"They would always roam about on the street or in the parks, waiting to be petted," a young barmaid explained, her eyes on Caramon. "No one would dream of harming them. After all, they'll one day save the world!" The others in the tavern nodded in agreement.
"You haven't seen a guy around here, playing a flute.
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have you?" Caramon began, but his brother gave him such a vicious look that the big warrior lapsed into silence. They stood up to go.
"Damn all wizards to the Abyss," one of the guests said as the magician left.
"Well, how rude!" exclaimed Earwig.
Caramon turned, fist clenched, but Raistlin put his hand on his brother's knotted arm.
"Peace, Caramon."
"How can you just let them say things like that?" the warrior demanded.
"Because I understand them," said Raistlin in his whispering voice. "These people are in the grip of fear," he added as they stepped out into the street. "They've lived in this city all of their lives, and now the one thing that they hold sacred is disappearing, without reason, without a clue. I'm an easy target because I'm someone to blame."
He looked down at the street. The white line was there, leading him on. They had not deviated from its path since leaving the inn, although neither Caramon nor Earwig could see it.
'The councillor's Home? Just keep walking straight up the street," said a man to Caramon in response to his question.
"Thank you," the warrior replied, returning to his brother and the kender, who were seated at an outdoor table at another tavern.
They had seen a few cats since their arrival in Mereklar. Occasionally one would stroll past the companions as they were walking. Caramon had the strangest feeling that he was being scrutinized, examined by unblinking green eyes. Then, more and more started
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coming around, and now Earwig was surrounded by cats. The felines jumped on his shoulders, batted at his topknot of brown hair, and rubbed themselves around his neck. The kender was overjoyed at the attention and more than willing to play with his new friends.
Raistlin, on the other hand, sat silent and alone. None of the cats would come near him.
"Look at that," Caramon heard a woman whisper, and saw her pointing at the mage.
"I know," said her companion. "I've never seen our cats act so unfriendly to anybody."
"Maybe they know something we don't!"
A third woman hissed, "I bet the wizard has something to do with the missing cats! After all, there were no problems until he got here!"
"Your problems started before we arrived," Caramon began hotly, but, once again, his brother flashed him a warning look and the fighter swallowed his words.