"Kerr, Katharine - Deverry 02 - Darkspell" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dragon Stories)

The assembly nodded in agreement, their images mimicking the movements their bodies would have made. The news had spread that in a remote corner of Eldidd province, a lord named Corbyn had risen up in rebellion against his overlord, Tieryn Lovyan of Dun Gwerbyn. Normally this would have been of no concern to the dweomer; rebellions and bloodshed happened all the time in Deverry, and overlords had armies to deal with such things. But Corbyn had been ensorceled by a dweomer-man gone mad, Loddlaen by name, who was half-elven, AderynТs apprentice. Now Loddlaen was dead, the rebellion crushed, but the matter was far from settled.
СAs soon as I joined Aderyn here to defeat Loddlaen,Т Nevyn went on, СI realized that someone had ensorceled him and was using him to work harm. Now, that someone had to be a master of the dark dweomer. Once he realized that he was facing me, he fled. As far as I can tell, he took ship for Bardek.Т
The assembly stirred uneasily. Caer, a tall, rangy man whose hazel eyes were green at the moment, drifted forward to speak.
СWhat exactly was the goal of the dark master? Did you ever find that out?Т
СOnly in the most vague terms. Tieryn Lovyan has a son named Rhodry. Years ago, I was given an omen that his Wyrd is crucial to Eldidd, and so IТve been watching over him. It seems that the whole point of this cursed war was to kill him. He was leading his motherТs army as cadvridoc, you see.Т
СThe dark masters must have discovered the ladТs importance, then,Т a woman named Nesta said. СDo you know what his Wyrd may be?Т
СNot in the least, and thatТs part of the trouble. No doubt our enemies know more about it than I do. TheyТre the ones who are always troubling their hearts about the future. The likes of us trust in the Light.Т
They nodded in agreement. The Great Ones who stand behind the dweomer, the Lords of Wyrd and the Lords of Light, never communicate clearly and directly with their servants, for the simple reason that those disincarnate spirits exist on a plane unimaginably removed from the physical world. ItТs impossible for them to reach down far enough to do more than send vague hints, feelings, dream images and warnings to the minds of those trained to receive these brief messages. For those who walk in the Light such hints are enough, but the dark dweomer is always picking at the future like a scab.
СI hope youТre guarding the lad well,Т Caer said. TheyТll doubtless make another try on him.Т
СWell, thatТs somewhat of a puzzle.Т Nevyn spoke slowly as he thought things out. СIТve spent many an hour meditating, but IТve received no warnings that heТs still in danger. ItТs doubly odd, because after the war was over, Rhodry was sent into exile by his elder brother.Т
СWhat?Т Nesta said. СWhoТs the elder brother? I donТt know Eldidd politics at all well.Т
СMy apologies. This is all of such great moment to me that I forget others arenТt so interested. RhodryТs mother is Lovyan, and she rules the tierynrhyn of Dun Gwerbyn in her own right through the Clw Coc clan. His father was Tingyr, a Maelwaedd of Aberwyn, and now RhodryТs eldest brother, Rhys, is gwerbret of Aberwyn.Т
They all nodded, as if saying that the information was enough to get on with. Understanding the complicated web of bloodlines and landholds among the noble-born took all the long training of a bard or priest.
СNow, Rhys and Rhodry have hated each other for years. It has naught to do with dweomer or Wyrd; itТs just one of those nasty things that happen between blood kin. So, one night in Aberwyn, Rhys insulted his brother so badly that Rhodry started to draw his sword on him - and remember that Rhys is a gwerbret.Т
СRhodryТs lucky his brother didnТt hang him,Т Caer said.
СJust so. Rhys saw his chance to get rid of his hated kinsman and took it. Now RhodryТs riding the roads as a silver dagger.Т
СIndeed?Т Nesta broke in. СIТm surprised you let him go for a mercenary soldier.Т
СI had naught to say about it, I assure you, or I wouldnТt have. But RhodryТs only the least part of our troubles. Now, Nesta here tracked the dark master when he came through Cerrmor, and neither she, I, nor any of our elemental spirits recognized the man. Here weТd been thinking we knew every fool who practiced this wretched craft. Well, weТve all been too smug.Т
СAnd he made his escape easily, too,Т Nesta picked it up. СJust as if he had refuges ready all along his way. He must have been laying this scheme for a long time, right under our noses.Т
Several of the men muttered quite unenlightened oaths under their breaths. Aderyn stepped forward to Speak.
СWhat frightens me is that he could ensorcel Loddlaen so easily. LoddlaenТs mind was more elven than human. Do you see what that means? Our enemy must have a good knowledge of elven ways, but IТm as sure as I can be that no dark dweomerman has ever traveled in the elven lands.Т
СBad news, indeed,Т Caer said. СWell, then, the hard truth of the matter is that we havenТt been vigilant enough. That has to change.Т
СExactly,Т Nevyn said. СWe can work out the details among ourselves later, but thereТs one more thing I want to put to the full Council of Thirty-Two. During this war, hundreds of men saw dweomer worked openly.Т
For a moment the assembly was shocked into silence; then the talk burst out, just as when a summer storm gathers, the sky leaden gray, growing heavier as the birds hush; then suddenly with a crack of thunder comes the rain. Nevyn turned to Aderyn.
СItТs time for you to leave us. IТll contact you later through the fire.Т
СWell and good, then. Truly, youТve all got much to discuss.Т
AderynТs image was abruptly gone from the grove. Slowly the assembly quieted itself.
СWell, now, this is a grave thing,Т Caer said at last. СOf course, no one outside of western Eldidd will believe them. In time, the tale will die away.Т
СProvided no one stirs it up again with more dweomer.Т
СYe gods! Do you think that was part of the dark onesТ scheme, to flush us out into the open?Т
СItТs a possibility, isnТt it?Т
The assembly turned uneasy, and with good reason. Once, back in the Dawntime when the people of Bel had first come to Deverry from their original homeland across the eastern seas, the priests of the oak groves known as drwiddion had openly worked dweomer. Men feared them, flattered them, and groveled before them until the inevitable corruption set in. The priests grew rich and held great demesnes; they shaped the laws to their advantage and wielded power like lords. Slowly, of its own accord, the dweomer left them, until their rituals became empty shows and their words of power, mere chatter.
Such are the temptations of temporal power that the priesthood forgot that it had ever had the true dweomer. By NevynТs time, they too dismissed tales of wonderworking priests as mere fancies, fit for a bardТs song and nothing more.
Yet the dweomer survived, passed down from master to apprentice in secret. The dweomerfolk swore strict vows to live quiet lives, hiding their skills, lest they too be corrupted by flattery and riches. Caer was the head groom of the gwerbret of LughcarnТs stables; Nesta, the widow of a Cerrmor spice merchant. Nevyn himself lived the simplest life of all, because he was a herbman, wandering the kingdom with a mule and tending the ills of folk too poor to afford apothecaries and chirurgeons. If those long years of secrecy came to an end, it was likely that, sooner or later, the dweomer-masters might succumb to the same temptations that had drawn the priests from the true path.
СAnd thereТs another thing,Т Caer said. СMost people in the kingdom would label us witches. What if they take it into their minds to hunt us down?Т
Nesta shuddered. As an elderly woman, she was extremely vulnerable to such a charge.
СTrue enough,Т Nevyn said. СAnd so we -Т He stopped, struck by a thought so urgent that he knew it came from beyond himself, and when he spoke again, his mind-voice rang with prophecy. СThe time has come for the dweomer to show itself, only a little at first, but the time comes when all shall work openly.Т
Those assembled heard the ring and knew that the Lords of Light had spoken through their servant.
СOh by the hells!Т Caer whispered. СNever did I think to see this day come.Т
They all agreed, especially Nevyn.
СThis calls for long hours of meditation,Т he remarked.
СI promise you all that IТll put them in, too. WeТve got to move as cautiously as a cat in a bathhouse.Т
For some time they discussed the prophecy, until they decided that Nevyn would work out this strange idea while the rest of them lived as they always had. The council broke up, the body-images winking out like blown candles, but Caer and Nevyn lingered in the peaceful stillness of the astral grove. Around them the enormous trees nodded as if in a wind as the astral tides began to change, a gentle stirring that they felt in their minds.
СItТs a strange thing weТve heard this day, oh Master of Earth,Т Nevyn remarked. СBut I intend to pursue the idea, no matter how long it takes me.Т
СOh, IТm not worried about that. YouТve always been as stubborn as a pig on market day.Т
They exchanged a smile of sincere affection. Once, some four hundred years earlier, Caer had been NevynТs master when he struggled through his apprenticeship in the dweomer. Although Rhegor, as his name was then, had followed the normal pattern for dweomerfolk and died to be reborn, many times over now, Nevyn himself had lived one single life, sustained by the elemental forces he commanded. Although most people would have coveted such a long life, it was a harsh Wyrd for him to bear, because during his apprenticeship heТd made a grave mistake that had resulted in the deaths of three innocent people, and a rash vow that never would he rest until heТd redeemed his fault.
СTell me somewhat,Т Caer said. СDo you think youТre close to fulfilling your vow?Т
СI donТt know, I truly donТt. So many times before I thought I was, only to have things slip away from me. But I can tell you this: Gerraent and I have come to terms between us. Part of the chainТs broken once and for all.Т
СThanks be to every god, then. I tried to warn you about swearing that -Т
СI know, I know, and youТre exactly right: IТm too stubborn for my own wretched good. Ah ye gods, poor Brangwen! You know, I still think of her by that name, even though she only bore it for a few pitiful years. I failed her so badly, and Blaen, too, but when I swore IТd make it up to her, I never thought it would take four hundred beastly years!Т