"Kerr, Katharine - Deverry 04 - Dragonspell" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dragon Stories)

СHah! There are many men who hide the truth about themselves deep in their hearts, where they will never have to face it. Perhaps you are one of those. Have you done somewhat so horrible that you wipe the mind clean to forget?Т
СMayhap. Do I look like that sort of man to you?Т
СYou donТt, though I think for all your charm you are a dangerous man. I would never give you a sword nor a dagger neither.Т
Taliaesyn looked sharply away, his eyes gone cloudy, as if his thoughts had taken a strange turn.
СA dagger,Т Brindemo whispered. СThe word means somewhat?Т
СSomewhat.Т He spoke slowly, almost reluctantly. СI canТt find the memory. It just twitched at my mind, like.Т
Brindemo sighed with deep drama.
Twenty-five zotars! Easily I could sell you for twenty-five golden zotars if only we could find the truth. Do you know how much a zotar is worth?Т
СI donТt, at that.Т
СIt would buy ten pigs, and five of them fertile sows, even. So twenty-five zotars . . . ai!Т
СMy heart bleeds for you.Т
СAh, the sarcasm, and how can I blame you? It is a good sign. Your mind is coming back to life. But, I tell you, I have a guest coming tonight. He has spent many years in Deverry as a wine merchant. He might recognize you, or know somewhat to jog your mind. I cannot stand this. Twenty-five zotars, and here you sit, unsaleable. It aches the heart, as you say in your country.Т
While they waited for Arriano to arrive, Brindemo taught the slave the proper method of pouring wine and passing a tray of cups around to guests. Taliaesyn took the lesson with a grave interest that had a certain charm, rather like an intelligent child who has decided to please his parents by doing something they want even though it strikes him as ridiculous. Yet Brindemo was always aware that he was docile only because his memory had gone. Taliaesyn moved like a knife fighter, (the professional athletes of the arena were BrindemoТs only cognate for that particular gliding walk, the stance that was both relaxed and on guard at the same time), so much so that seeing him fussing over the silver tray was unsettling, as if a lion were wearing a collar and padding after its mistress like a pet cat. I never should have bought him, he thought miserably; I should have told Baruma no. Yet his misery only deepened, because he knew full well that he was in no position to deny the man known as Baruma anything.
Arriano came promptly when the temple bells were chiming out the sunset watch. Brindemo met him at the door himself, then ushered him into the main hall, a long room with a blue-and-white tiled floor and dark green walls. At one end was a low dais, strewn with many-coloured cushions arranged around a brass table. After they settled themselves on the cushions, Taliaesyn passed the wine-cups around, then perched respectfully on the edge of the dais. Arriano, a wizened little man who hid his baldness under a white linen skullcap, looked him over with a small, not unfriendly smile.
СSo, Taliaesyn,Т he said. СOur Brindemo here says you come from
Pyrdon.Т
СSo IТve been told, master.Т
One of ArrianoТs bushy eyebrows shot up.
СTalk to me in Deverrian. Oh, what. . . ah, I know. Describe this room.Т
As Taliaesyn, somewhat puzzled, obligingly gave him a catalogue of the furniture and colours in the room, Arriano listened with his head cocked to one side. Then he cut the list short with a wave of his hand.
СPyrdon? Hah! You come from Eldidd, lad. IТd wager good coin on it - the Eldidd sea-coast, at that.Т He turned to Brindemo and spoke in Bardekian. СThey have a very distinctive way of speaking there. As you might have expected, Baruma was lying like a scorpion.Т
СMay the feet of the gods crush him!Т Brindemo felt sweat run down his back. СI donТt suppose you recognize this supposed slave?Т
СNot as to give you his real name, no. From the way he moves and all, IТd say he was a member of their aristocracy.Т
СWhat? I was thinking of him as a knife-fighter or boxer or some other performer like that.Т
СYou forget, my dear old friend, that in Deverry, the aristocrats are all warriors. They start training for it when theyТre little children.Т
Brindemo groaned, a long rattle that gave him no relief. Taliaesyn was listening with an understandable intensity.
СOne of the noble-born?Т the slave said at last. СHere, this Baruma fellow said I was a merchantТs son.Т
СBaruma lies as easily as the rain falls,Т Arriano said. СIf I were you, Brindemo, IТd stop babbling about zotars and get rid of this man as fast as you can - but to a decent master, mind. If his kin come storming through here with blood in their barbarian hearts ...Ф
СI know, I know.Т Brindemo could barely speak out of sheer frustrated greed. СBut twenty-five zotars! Ai!Т
СWill all the gold in the world sew your head back onto your shoulders if. . .Т
СOh shut up! Of course youТre right. Baruma wanted me to sell him to the mines or the galleys, but thatТs completely out of the question if the manТs an aristocrat.Т
СI should think so! May BarumaТs sphincter loosen and his manhood plug itself!Т
СAnd may diseased monkeys feed some day upon his heart! Very well, then. IТll sell him as soon as I can find the right sort of buyer. If you hear of someone, let me know- for a commission, of course.Т
СOf course.Т Arriano held out his hand. СMore wine, Taliaesyn.Т Even though Taliaesyn served the wine exactly as heТd been taught with all the proper courtesies, the harsh, brooding look in his eyes made Brindemo profoundly uneasy. IТd best get him out of here soon for my own sake, he thought, but ai! twenty-five zotars!
Taliaesyn had been given a cubicle of his own to sleep in, because Brindemo was afraid to have him gossiping with the other slaves. If Baruma came back, neither the slave nor the slave merchant wanted him to know that theyТd been trying to unravel his secret. Although the cubicle had room for nothing more than a straw pallet on the floor, and a tiny niche in the wall for an oil-lamp, it was private. After heТd been locked in for the night, Taliaesyn sat on the pallet for a long while, considering what Arriano had told him. Even though the lamp was out of oil, he could see perfectly well in the moonlight that streamed in the uncurtained window. It occurred to him, then, that it was peculiar that he could see in the dark. Before heТd been taking it for granted.
A few at a time, Wildfolk came to join him, a gaggle of gnomes, mostly, all speckled and mottled in blue and grey and purple, quite different from the ones in Deverry, or at least, so he remembered. At the moment, he was disinclined to trust anything he СrememberedТ about himself. Who knew if it were real or some lie of BarumaТs? He did, however, have a clear memory picture of solidly coloured gnomes, in particular a certain grey one who was some sort of friend. Apparently heТd been able to see these little creatures for some time.
The ability to befriend spirits was so out of character for what he knew of Deverry aristocrats that he considered this strange fact for a good long time. Although he remembered little about himself, his general knowledge of the world seemed to be intact, and he was certain that your average warrior-lord did not go around talking to Wildfolk. Yet here was a particularly bold gnome, a dirty-green and greyish-purple with an amazing number of warts running down its spine, who was climbing into his lap and patting his hand with one little clawed paw as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
СWell, good eve, little brother.Т
The gnome grinned to reveal bright purple fangs, then settled into his lap like a cat. As he idly stroked it, scratching it behind the ears every now and then, Taliaesyn felt something pricking at his mind like a buried splinter trying to force its way out of a finger. The Wildfolk, the very phrase, Сlittle brotherТ, both meant something profound, something that would give him an important key to who he was if only he could find the lock. It was a secret, a very deep, buried secret, hidden even from Baruma, perhaps.
СI wish you lads could talk. Do you know who I am?Т
The pack all shook their heads in a collective yes.
СDo you know my name, then?Т
This time the answer was no.
СBut you somehow recognize me?Т
Another yes. He wondered if heТd ever been an introspective man -probably not, if he reminded people of a warrior-lord or a knife-fighter. The bits of truth he was finding made less sense than all the lies. One of the noble-born, or an athlete, but either way, he saw the Wildfolk, and they considered him a friend. Again came that twitch at his mind. One of their friends or one of their kin? The hairs on the nape of his neck prickled as he said it aloud.
СOr one of their kin. I should know what that means, curse it all to the third hell!Т
But he couldnТt remember. All at once he was furious, furious with his mind, with Baruma, with the twisted fate that had stripped him of himself and dropped him here, a piece of human trash in BrindemoТs market. He slammed his fist into the wall, and the pain and the rage mingled to force a brief moment of clarity out of his maimed consciousness. The Westfolk. The Elcyion Lacar, the elves. They saw the Wildfolk; they called them little brothers. HeТd known the elves once - hadnТt he? HadnТt he ridden to war with some of them for allies? Once, a very long time ago.
СOr one of their kin,Т he whispered like an exhalation of breath.
He went cold all over in the warm night. It was a hard thing, after all, for a man to realize that he wasnТt completely human.
Taliaesyn stayed at the market for two more days of drowsy boredom. Although he did his best to probe his mind, he found the work hard going, confirming his own thought that heТd never been a man who paid much attention to his mind. He did, however, remember one small thing, the matter of the piece of jewellery. Although he couldnТt remember exactly what it was, Taliaesyn was sure that Baruma had stolen a valuable piece of silver jewellery from him, some heirloom, handed down to him by some member of his clan or by someone he admired - he wasnТt sure which. He did know, however, that having lost that piece of jewellery was a shameful thing, that he would be dishonoured forever if he didnТt find Baruma and get it back. The shame fed his hatred until at times he day-dreamed for long hours about killing Baruma in one or another hideous way.