"Kerr, Katharine - Westlands 02 - A Time Of War v1.1" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dragon Stories)
СOf course. IТll have the chamberlain tend to it.Т
СMy thanks, Your Grace. I thought that if you received him here in the open hall, everyone would know heТs your guest now, and the threats against him and his kind would stop.Т
СNo doubt, Jill. They had better.Т
When the gwerbret and his vassal turned to look at Meer, Jill slipped away. Although no dweomerworker can make herself truly invisible, despite what the old tales may say, Jill could gather her aura so tightly about her and move so silently and smoothly that she could pass unnoticed unless someone happened to be looking straight at her. Wrapped in these shadows she hurried up the staircase to her chamber. Judging from what sheТd heard about this mysterious raven, she had to keep a close watch on Cengarn and the countryside round about, and for that she needed to fly.
For all that Meer hated and feared mazrakir, the process by which a dweomerworker takes on animal form is really only an extension of the perfectly ordinary procedure of constructing a body of light, in which the magician makes a thought-form in human or clven shape as a vehicle for his or her consciousness out on the etheric plane. Although at first he has to imagine this form minutely every time he wishes to use it, eventually a fully-realized body, identical to the last one, will appear whenever the dweomermaster summons it, out of no greater dweomer than Сpractice makes perfectТ. This happens in exactly the same way as a normal memory image, such as the memory-house a merchant uses to store information about his customers, becomes standardized after a long working with it. A shapechanger starts with the same process, substituting an animal form for the human, although, of course, the mazrak does take things a fair bit farther.
That evening Jill followed her usual practice. First she took off all her clothes, because not even the mightiest dwcomermaster can transform dead matter like cloth, and opened the wooden shutters at the window. She laid her hands far apart on the windowsill and stared up at the starry sky, letting her breathing slow and her mind clear as the cool night air swept over her, She felt power gather, invoked more, until it flowed through her mind like water. In her mind, as well, she formulated the image of a grey falcon, but many times life size, and by a mental trick sent this picture out through her eyes until she saw it perching on the windowsill. Now, at this point the falcon image existed only in JillТs imagination, though an imagination that had been highly trained and disciplined by years of mental work, and it was only in imagination that she transferred her consciousness over to the bird until she seemed to perch on the sill herself and look down at the ward below through the birdТs eyes.
Now came the first tricky step. Keeping her concentration firmly centred in the falcon, she transferred her consciousness up a level to the etheric plane. A rushy sound washed over her; she felt as if she were falling; then she heard a sharp click, like a sword striking the metal edge of a shield. When she looked round, she saw the chamber and the sky bathed in silvery blue light. Behind her on the floor her physical body lay slumped in trance, joined to the hawk-form by the silver cord. At this point she could have used the falcon as an ordinary body of light to scry on the etheric or lower reaches of the astral. Instead she took that last step. The etheric double of a person is a matrix that forms and holds flesh. If the double and the trained will are strong enough, flesh will follow its lead. Jill began to chant and intone strange words of power that only a few masters know, until, with one last convulsion of will, the etherie falcon drew the physical into its mould.
Jill the woman was gone from the chamber. Only the falcon stood on the windowsill, stretching its wings and ruffling its feathers in a last shudder against the cold.
With a soft cry she leapt and flew, flapping steadily till she cleared the dun, then gliding on the currents upr ever up, circling round the hills of Cengarn. Although the falcon form existed on the physical, JillТs consciousness remained on the etheric plane, so that she saw the trees and fields glowing a dull brownish red from their vegetable auras, spotted here and there with the yellow ovoid auras of cows or horses huddled together. The dun, the walls, the town itself- all wore the dull black of stone and dead wood. Here and there a brightly coloured aura of a human being moved down a street or strolled across the dun ward and once, down in town, she saw the metallic aura, copper streaked with steel grey, of a dwarf trotting purposefully along. Out in the valley to the west of the town the fast-running stream sent up its exhalation of elemental force, like a towering silver veil shifting and hovering above the physical water.
Everything seemed peaceful, everything seemed safe, even when she circled out some miles. She saw no enemy soldiers, no ravens, no dweomerworkers, nothing or no one out of place. She decided that this other shapechanger, if indeed there were one, had to be flying for home and safety as fast as his or her wings could beat, wherever that home might be. Without the band of raiders for support, to carry its food and human clothing, the raven would be helpless in a wilderness. And where was that home? That, she hoped, Meer could tell her, or at the least give her the information she needed to discover it on her own. With a flip of a wing she turned, riding the night wind, heading back for the dun.
And yet, just as she had the town in sight, she saw something -someone - circling high above the walls, a bird form, all right, but far too large for an ordinary creature. As the other bird turned and began flying in her direction, Jill sprang higher, soaring in an easy circle to gain height and thus advantage. Yet, as the other mazrak flew close, she could see that it was no raven, but rather a strangely indeterminate grey bird, something like a linnet, but its feathers bore no markings at all. Dallandra - come through to the physical plane in the bird-form! Without thinking Jill stooped and plunged, plummeting straight down like the falcon her body indeed was. With a shriek of terror the grey linnet broke course and flapped wildly away, heading for a copse. Cursing her bad manners, Jill broke from her plunge and followed more slowly, though she could still outfly the clumsier linnet.
СDalla, itТs just me!Т Jill sent the words on a wave of etheric thought rather than sound. СMy apologies! I didnТt mean to frighten you. The wretched falcon took me over for a moment.Т
A wave of wordless relief floated back in answer.
Since the trees were far too small to shelter a pair of birds of their size, they circled down and lighted on the ground underneath, hopping a little to find footing on the uncongenial earth. The linnet shook herself and preened a few feathers on her breast to calm herself down,
СI am sorry,Т Jill thought to her. СI somehow thought youТd recognize me.Т
СYouТre not the only master who flies in hawk form, you see. AlshandraТs been known to take the nighthawk at times.Т
СIndeed? Is one of her other forms a raven?Т
"ItТs not, but a swan.Т
"ThatТs a strange thing, then, because IТve just heard of a shape-changer in raven form. A lad from the far west claims he saw it but an eightnight ago.Т
СNo one I know flies as a raven. Ye gods! Talk about ill-omened! That would he too grisly even for Alshandra.Т
СJudging from some of the things IТve heard I wouldnТt have put it past her. But hereТs an even stranger thing, and thrice ill-omened at that. It seems that our AlshandraТs been pretending to be a god, and sheТs collected herself a band of worshippers, too, among the Horsekin.Т
The linnet opened and shut her beak a few times, just as if she were trying to speak with a physical voice.
СShe would.Т DallandraТs thought flowed on a wave of sheer bitterness. СSheТs just the sort who would. Jill, letТs fly. I canТt bear it, perching here and listening to sour news all at the same time.Т
With a few hops and a jump they launched themselves into the air, flying till they were high enough to be invisible from the ground. Up this far from the anchoring earth, the etheric sight turned the night sky into a swirl of black, studded with enormous silver stars, flaring and gleaming so close that it seemed they might have felt heat. Down below the countryside receded to a dull red glow. Slowly they rode the air currents in long aimless loops centred round Cengarn, a black lump rising from the red.
СI suppose, but I donТt know for sure. My one witness doesnТt trust me in the least, and I canТt blame him, either, but heТs not going to bare his heart and soul to me, From what he has said, though, IТve gathered that her worship is considered heresy, fit only for outlaws and suchlike.Т
СThatТs somewhat to the good, then. Are you still convinced that the Horsekin are those demonic Hordes the old elven lore speaks of? The ones who destroyed our cities?Т
СMore convinced the more I learn, though theyТre most certainly not demons.Т
СWell, I never really thought they were. My teacher, Nananna, always said that they were most likely flesh and blood the same as us, whether they had the manners of demons or not, and sheТd heard the tales a good bit closer to the destruction than we have.Т
СJust so. Here, Dalla, youТd know this. WasnТt there an elven king named Ranadar?Т
СHe was the last of the Council of Seven Kings, as a matter of fact. After the cities were destroyed by the Hordes, and all the other six kings killed, Ranadar gathered a warband from the survivors and lived in the mountains like a bandit, raiding and harrying the Hordes, taking what revenge he could. HeТs the one who witnessed the horrible plagues that very nearly destroyed the Hordes. In fact, until you started talking about Gel daТThae, IТd always assumed that the invaders had been completely wiped out.Т
СMost people did, and I gather, from what IТve been able to piece together, that the tribes whoТd conquered the southern part of the elven homeland did die, down to the last child. But in the north some remain, and now they seem to be coming east.Т
The linnet dipped and shuddered.
СBut this Ranadar,Т Jill went on. СHe was a real historical figure, then?Т
СVery much so. Eventually he joined the other refugees out in the grasslands, when he realized that he and his men werenТt going to be able to reclaim the dead cities and suchlike all on their own. Why?Т
СMeer - thatТs the Gel daТThae bard IТve got in custody - Meer used his name, but he called him the Hound of Hell with thirteen pairs of jaws. Rhodry told me that heТs heard the bard pray, and that all of his gods have elven names, but odd and distorted ones, mostly fragments of the names of the old cities and palaces.Т
Jill felt the linnetТs mind shy briefly away, then return.
СRhodryТs here?Т Dallandra thought to her.
СVery much a part of this, truly. Why so surprised? You mentioned once that youТd met him.Т
СOnly very briefly and some years ago. But thatТs a strange thing, truly, about the elven names. This whole situationТs getting too complex, and IТm beginning to worry that everythingТs slipping out of control. I doubt very much, I truly do, if Evandar knows what heТs doing with all his meddling. Foresight and understanding consequences are most definitely not talents of his.Т
СBut other talents he has in good measure. Dalla, how much can I count on his aid?Т
СI donТt know. I honestly donТt know. He cares about his daughter and her coming birth more than anything else in the three worlds, but thereТs trouble in his own lands. IТve been planning, you know, to come back to the physical plane and stay in the dun with you and ElessarioТs mother, but now IТm afraid to.Т
In human form Jill would have sighed aloud, but as it was the falcon made a chirruping little sound.
СWhat kind of trouble?Т
СI canТt say for sure. Bad blood between Evandar and his brother, bad blood between the Bright and the Dark Courts. Evil things are brewing, Jill. I can feel them - or no, not evil, exactly, but malice and spite and old hatreds.Т
СThat, my dear friend, sounds evil enough for me. And please, be careful! YouТre in constant danger these days.Т
СI suppose so. I canТt even blame Alshandra for hating me so bitterly. After all, I did steal her husband away, didnТt I? And IТd best return to Evandar now. IТll be back, as soon as I can. Trouble or no, my place is here.Т
Jill felt the wave of fear from DallandraТs mind like a cold wind.
СMy thanks. And if I need you badly before then, IТll send the Wildfolk as messengers.Т
| © 2024 Библиотека RealLib.org (support [a t] reallib.org) |