"Kerr, Katharine - Westlands 02 - A Time Of War v1.1" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dragon Stories)

СThe prince has told me the situation. Weeds and nettles, broken stones and wild animals Ч thatТs my kingdom and courtiers, Your Grace, or so the lad always says. But I take it that someone else wouldnТt mind having the title to the wrack and ruin, eh?Т
СAs far as I can tell, thatТs the case. The ancestors of the Gel daТThae destroyed the kingdom somewhere back in the misty past, and judging from what Meer tells me, they still rule whatТs left of it. I wouldnТt be surprised to learn that some ruler or other wants to legitimize his claim. ItТs a story thatТs happened many times before.Т
СTheyТre human enough for that, eh? Wanting their title to rest secure, without the true king running round siring heirs to it. An old tale, indeed. Hum. I wonder if thereТs a faction, seeking to overthrow this ruler? They could easily be threatening to bring back the old line.Т
СThatТs also happened, many times over. MeerТs cursed close mouthed, Your Grace, not that I blame the man, but there we are. IТm only going on partial information, but I think we can say that the situationТs dangerous.Т
СYou do have a gift for understatement, Jill. Very well. The prince and his people have done me many a favour in the past, and we have a treaty of sorts between us, too. LetТs be honest. Without the Westfolk trading us horses, weТd all be walking to war, not riding, up here in these rocky hills. And now these raiders have caused me and mine great harm. I think me we can say itТs war.Т The gwerbret rose and, of course, she stood with him. СIТll have a little talk, like, with my captain and the chamberlain, just to see how we stand in the way of provisions, men, spare horses, such things as that.Т
Jill bowed and left him, reaching the back door of the great hall just as Rhodry stepped in. Seeing him silhouetted against the sunlight made a dweomer-warn ing clench round her heart. She turned so cold that she swore, shuddering. All his life Rhodry had been marked for some strange Wyrd, though none had ever been able to read all its omens, not even her master and teacher, whoТd been the greatest sorcerer in all of DeverryТs history. But at that moment in CadmarТs hall, Jill saw RhodryТs Wyrd hovering over him, as if on wings, and while she knew not what would bring it to him, she did know that it meant the death of everything he had ever been or ever hoped to be. Before she could stop herself, she cried out, clasping both hands over her mouth. Rhodry laughed, striding over.
СWhatТs so wrong?Т he said. СItТs just me.Т
Jill let her hands fall.
СIТve too much dweomer spinning round and round in my mind these days, Rhoddo. Forgive me - you just startled me, thatТs all.Т
He smiled, rocking a little on the balls of his feet, glancing round, as wary as a wild animal even in his temporary lordТs hall. For a moment she could remember what it had been like to love him, all those many years ago.
СForgive me,Т she said again. СMy heart aches, just from sheer weariness. IТll need to talk with you, but thereТs no hurry.Т
СYouТre not ill again, are you?Т His smile turned to alarm, and he reached out an automatic hand.
СNot in the least.Т
She dodged round him and made her escape, hurrying out to the fresher air of the ward, before she made a horrible mistake and told him what sheТd seen. Some omens were best left unread. Yet all afternoon she found herself thinking of Rhodry, just in odd moments as she went about her magical work in the tower. All men die, she reminded herself. HeТs courted death for years, whether he was a silver dagger or a warlord in Aberwyn, and now heТs pressing his suit night and day, him with his strange talk of his Lady Death and the love he bears her. HeТs growing old. We both are. ThatТs no doubt all the omen meant.
As twilight began to deepen over the dun, she found it impossible to stay in her chamber alone, as she usually did. She went down, slipped into the great hall, and got a seat back in the curve of the wall where none would notice her. That evening Meer performed, the first time anyone in Devcrry had ever heard a Gel daТThae bard. In the dancing light and shadow from torch and candle lantern, Meer stood by the dragon hearth to sing. For the occasion he had put on a leather tunic that was painted in strange designs - characters from the elven syllabary, but oddly distorted and forming no words, set round with bands of flowers and looping vines that had obviously been copied from some elven source. HeТd washed and redone his huge mane of hair, too, and all the little charms and amulets braided into it caught the light and glinted when he moved. As he sang he kept time on a small drum, slapping it with one huge hand, while his new friend the bard struck chords on the harp behind him.
Strange though the music was, every person in the hall sat rapt, aware that this was a momentous event they were witnessing. As Jill listened to the music rise and fall, wail and tremble, she came close to weeping, just from feeling the eternal sadness of the life that all sentient beings, whether Horsekin or elf or human, must share upon this earth.



PART THREE
Puella

A fortunate figure, especially when it disposes itself into the House of Gold and the House of Steel, and yet, such are all things female that at times it docs undermine the figures round it and turn them into twisted ways. If it fall into the House of Lead a great heaviness shall wear it down, and sickness prevail over the strong.
The Omenbook of Cwarn, Loremaster

The womenТs hall occupied the entire second floor of the main broch, except for the small, closed-off landing round the spiral staircase. In the company of the gwcrbretТs wife, Labanna, and her two serving women, Princess Carramaena spent much of her time in this ample chamber during the day, while her husband was off with the men, hunting and tending to other important affairs. Since before her marriage Carra had been only the third daughter of a very poor lord, down south Pyrdon way, she had never had the luxury of a entire hall at her disposal before, with cushioned furniture, tapestries on the walls, fresh braided rushes for carpeting, and silver oddments scattered round on little tables. Since it was up above the ward, the air there smelled clean and sweet, unlike the smoky den of the great hall, filled with men who smelled of horse sweat as much as their own.
SheТd never had so much company or entertainment, either. If either the gwcrbret or the prince were in attendance in the hall - and they could only enter with their wivesТ permission - a bard was allowed to join them as well, either to sing or to perform tales in the form known as СConversationsТ. When the women were alone, Labanna would devote herself to her work. She had the entire dun to administer, with all its problems of managing servants and supplies. The other women, and Labanna herself when she had time, occupied themselves with their perpetual sewing, since every piece of clothing that anyone wore in the dun was made there as well. Being as sheТd always loved to sew, Carra was perfectly happy to do her share. SheТd never had such a choice of fine cloths in her life before, either, nor so many colours of thread.
Carra had come to Cengarn only a few weeks before, fleeing a marriage to a rich but ugly old lord that her brother had arranged, all unknowing that she was already pregnant by her elven prince. Since the journey had been anything but easy, sheТd arrived utterly exhausted. At first, sitting in a sunny chair and basking in the attention of other women had been the greatest luxury of all. Yet soon enough sheТd recovered her strength, and with the recovery she began to realize how greatly her marriage had changed her life.
Back when sheТd been living in her brotherТs dun, a useless third sister dumped onto his care by the death of his father, Carra had had a great deal more freedom to go about alone and on her whims. Now, whenever she announced she wanted to go for a walk in the ward, Labanna summoned pages to attend her. Whenever she wanted to leave the dun, vast consultations occurred, and the equerry or chamberlain, if not both, along with several men from her husbandТs war-band, escorted her. If Labanna had orders to give, such as to the cook in the kitchen hut, then Carra was allowed to go with her, but again, the two women were never alone, always moving in a crowd of pages, servants and the noble-born servitors themselves.
СI used to love to go riding,Т she remarked one day. СJust me, you know. Or maybe IТd take a couple of dogs, and weТd just go trotting round my brotherТs lands. Naught evil ever happened to me, really it didnТt.Т
The three older women merely smiled, leaving her wondering if sheТd actually spoken aloud or not.
СWell,Т Carra went on. СSoon IТm going to be really pregnant, and I wonТt be able to ride then. So thatТs why I want to go now.Т
СMy dear child,Т Labanna said at last. СYouТre not some scruffy younger daughter any more, but a married woman and a princess. Soon youТll be travelling to your husbandТs country, and that will simply have to be enough adventure for you.Т
СWhich reminds me,Т Ocradda broke in. As the elder of the two serving women, she was LabannaТs main confidante in the dun. СIs it really wise to allow the princess to ride so far in her condition?Т
СI feel fine,Т Carra said. СAnd I rode all the way here, didnТt I?Т
СA good point, Occa.Т Again, Labanna spoke as if Carra had said Хnot a word. СBut IТm afraid her place lies with her husbandТs people. When he rides out, sheТll have to ride with him.Т
Carra decided that she hated hearing about her СplaceТ. She felt that sheТd become a treasured plate or goblet, put safely on a shelf where none could harm it.
Her mood wasnТt helped any by her husbandТs attitude. Every evening Dar appeared at the door of the hall to escort her down to dinner, and he spent of course his nights in the chamber they shared, but by and large he seemed to be leaving her alone as much as he could. She did realize that often he and his men went out hunting to repay the gwerbretТs hospitality, because in this rough part of the country, venison provided much of the meat. At other times, though, it seemed to her that he was merely lounging round with his men instead of sitting with her. When she complained to him, he seemed mostly puzzled, remarking that he knew she had her womanТs life to live and that he didnТt wish to be in her way. She knew better than to complain to Labanna, who saw her own husband as rarely. But theirТs was an ordinary sort of marriage, she would think, all fixed up by their clans, and Dar said he married me out of love. At times it seemed to her that all the best parts of her life were long over, and she was, after all, but sixteen summers old.
The long days they spent worrying about the foreign raiders began to get on everyoneТs nerves as well. The women had heard all the reports of farms burned, families killed, pregnant women butchered by men little better than beasts. The threat hung large, that these raiders might only be the advance scouts for an army. One particularly hot afternoon they found themselves squabbling over very little. Labanna took charge.
СI think it would do everyone good if we set about planning some sort of feast or entertainment,Т Labanna said. СIТd best go down and consult with my husband, but this waiting must be hard on his riders, too.Т She glanced CarraТs way, imparting a small lesson. СMorale, my dear, is very important out here in the border country.Т
СIТll remember that, my lady. If youТre going down to the great hall, may I come too?Т
СOf course, dear. Just call the others, and weТll all go down together.Т
In a crowd of women Carra made her way into the great hall to find it filled with the various warbands, all drinking hard and looking, indeed, grim-faced and tired. At the table of honour Prince Daralanter-iel was sitting with the other lords, but when Carra started to run to him., Labanna caught her arm with a motherly hand.
СThe men are discussing matters of supply and suchlike, dear. WeТll just take the second table over here. It gets a bit of a breeze, anyway.Т
Carra was forced to sit at the ladyТs right hand and watch her husband from some ten feet away. He was a handsome man, Dar, exceptionally so even for one of the Westfolk, with jet-black hair and pale grey eyes, cat-slit to reveal a lavender pupil. Yet it wasnТt his good looks that had snared her heart, but the way that heТd always been so kind to her, when sheТd been unhappy in her brotherТs dun. Now it seemed that he barely noticed she was there. She told herself that she was only being foolish, to say nothing of vain and selfish, but sheТd left everything sheТd ever known behind for Dar, her family and clan, a group of friends built up over her entire life, the familiar sights of her ancestral lands and those of her neighbours. Soon sheТd be leaving the very country of her birth and her own people. When she wondered if perhaps sheТd made a mistake, her heart thudded in sheer panic.
Eventually Labanna caught her lordТs attention and was summoned to join the gwerbret. In the great hall men came and went; servants rushed round trying to keep everyoneТs tankard full; dogs barked and squabbled among themselves. When Labanna returned, the noble-born servitors came with her to discuss plans for a feast and a series of mock combats. As the great hall grew hot as well as thunderously noisy, Carra began to feel sick to her stomach.
СMy dear?Т Ocradda leaned over and touched her hand. СYou look pale. Let me summon a page to escort you upstairs. I think a little nap would do you a world of good.Т
СI think my ladyТs exactly right,Т Carra said. СAnd my thanks.Т
Once she was back in her chamber, however, and lying down in the cool, she felt quite recovered. For a few moments she dutifully tried to sleep, then got up and wandered over to the window. When she looked down she could see all sorts of people scurrying round the ward. Probably Labanna had already set things in motion for this feast, a vast event that would take days to plan and prepare. It occurred to her that she might be able to go down for a walk and not even be noticed. Better yet! All at once she remembered the boyТs clothes sheТd worn when she rode away from her family to join Daralanteriel. If she put those on, perhaps she could sneak out to the stables and get her horse. SheТd usually saddled her own horse, back in the days before her marriage. IТm not that pregnant yet, she thought. No reason I canТt do it again!
Her plan worked. Dressed like a dirty page, with her hair hidden by an elven leather hat, she seemed to have turned invisible. Her own gelding, Gwerlas, a buckskin Western Hunter, turned out to be stabled right at the end of a line of stalls. She had him out and saddled without a soul noticing. Getting out of the dun through the guarded gates was, of course, a different matter altogether. She led Gwer up by a round-about way, then waited in the partial shelter of a stack of firewood until the two guards started talking with a gaggle of servant girls, Carra mounted and trotted out, looking straight ahead as if she had every right to do so, Neither guard hailed her, and she turned down into the streets of Cengarn.