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

СAh, but I did see you, and I was heading your way.Т
Riding secure on his fatherТs shoulders jahdo at last discovered the cause of the commotion. A pair of merchants on horseback, a pack of ordinary guards and a string of heavily laden mules had all marched by when, at the very end of the line, a man-like figure strode in, leading an enormous white horse laden with sacks and bundles. It was one of the Gel daТThae, swinging a stout staff back and forth and side to side in front of him as he walked, as if he were clearing something out of his path.
He stood perhaps seven feet tall, roughly man-shaped with two short-ish but sturdy legs, a long torso, two long arms, and a face with recognizable man-like features - but he was no man nor dwarf, either. His skin was as pale as milk in the places where it appeared between the lacings of his tight leather shirt and trousers, but his black hair was as coarse and bristling-straight as a boarТs. At the bridge of his enormous nose his eyebrows grew together in a sharp V and merged into his hairline. His hair itself plumed up, then swept back and down over his long skull to cascade to his waist. Here and there in this mane hung tiny braids, tied off with thongs and little charms and amulets. The backs of his enormous hands were furred with stubby black hair, too. His cheeks, however, were hairless, merely tattooed all over in a complex blue and purple pattern of lines and circles.
As lie walked, he turned his head this way and that, to listen rather than look, because where eyes should have gleamed under his furred brows were only empty sockets, pale and knotted with scars.
СOh!Т Jahdo spoke without thinking, in his piping boyТs voice that cut through the noise of the crowd. СHe be blind.Т
With a toss of his maned head the Gel daТThae stopped walking m front of Lael and swung toward the sound of JahdoТs voice. He bared strong white teeth, with more than a hint of fang about the incisors.
СDo you mock me, lad?Т Although he spoke in the language of the Rhiddaer, his voice growled out and rumbled, echoing back and forth like the waves of a storm slapping off a pier.
СNever, never,Т Jahdo stammered. СI be truly sorry. I were just so surprised.Т
СNo doubt. But youТre an ill-mannered little cub nonetheless.Т
СI am, sir, truly, and IТll try to learn better.Т
СIli-mannered and cowardly to boot.Т The Gel daТThae paused, sniffing the air. СHuh. I sense a man carrying you. Are you the ladТs father?Т
СI am,Т Lael said, and his voice was steady and cold. СAnd IТll speak for him. He be no coward, sir. He be shamed that he might have wounded your feelings.Т
СI"he Gel daТThae grunted, tucked his staff under one arm, and reached out an enormous hand to pat the side of LaelТs face. He reached higher, found jahdoТs arm and patted that, then took his hand away and smelt his own palm.
СHuh, sure enough, I sense no fear on the lad, but by all the gods and demons, as well, the pair of you stink of ferrets!Т
СSo we do, no doubt. YouТve got a keen nose.Т
СHah! I may be blind, but a man would have to be dead to miss that scent.Т He seemed to be smiling, pulling thin lips back from his fangs. СWell, a good day to you both and your weasel friends as well.Т
With a whistle to the huge horse, the Gel daТThae walked off, tapping his way with the staff as he followed the jingling of the caravan along the curve of the lake, where a grassy stretch of shore was set aside for travelling merchants. Lael swung Jahdo down with a grunt.
СYouТd best mind your mouth after this, lad. You always did have a cursed big one.Т
СI know, Da, and I truly truly be sorry.Т
СNo doubt. But the last thing we do want is to give insult to one of the Horsekin. ThatТs all they need, one word for a thin excuse, and they cry war. I hate to see one of them here for just that reason. If that bard goes taking offence, weТll have his clan riding at the head of an army to siege us.Т
СHow do you know heТs a bard?Т
СBecause his eyes are gone. ThatТs what they do, when they decide one of their boy-children has the voice to make a bard. They do scoop his eyes right out with the point of a knife, because they do think it make his singing sweeter.Т
Jahdo nearly gagged. He turned sharply away, found himself staring up at Councilman Verrarc, and felt the blood drain from his face in a wave of cold fear.
СSomewhat wrong, lad?Т VerrarcТs voice was mild, but his stare was sharp and cold. СYou look frightened.Т
СOh, he had a bit of a run-in with that Gel daТThae bard,Т Lael said, smiling. СHeТs never seen one of their tribe before.Т
СEnough to scare anyone, that.Т
СWhatТs he doing here, anyway?Т Lael went on.
СCursed if I know,Т Verrarc shrugged, visibly worried. СThatТs why the guards did fetch me and the rest of the council before they did let that lot in. WeТre going to pay him a visit, just to ask, like, down at the campground.Т
СThink it be trouble?Т
СI wish I knew, Lael, I wish I knew. As he walked by, he did tell me that heТd come to claim a tribute we owe his kind. WeТve got a web of treaties and obligations with these people, much as I wish we didnТt, and so who knows what he means by it? IТd best be finding out.Т
Verrarc turned away with a pleasant nod, but Jahdo felt his fear deepen to a clot like goatТs hair in his mouth. With a dream-like clarity he knew that showing his fear of the councilman was dangerous, that if Verrarc thought he remembered - remembered what? The terror in the meadow. The hiss of a snake.
СWell, lad,Т Lael said. СYou do look as white as IТve ever seen you. What be so wrong?Т
Jahdo was about to tell, then realized that the councilman lingered within earshot.
СThe bardТs eyes, Da, thatТs all. I keep imagining how that knife would feel when they did it.Т
СA nasty thing, sure enough,Т Lael shuddered a bit himself. СBut theyТre a strange lot all round, and cruel enough as well. Come along now, letТs get home. We need to stop to claim a fee, too.Т
СI did it already, Da. Mam told me to. I got a lot of roast goat from the Widow Suka.Т
СSplendid. LetТs go fetch it home, then.Т
The news had preceded them to Citadel. As they were tying up the coracle, a handful of militiamen surrounded them. With the swing of one broad hand and a toss of his blonde head, Demet pushed his way to the front. The family had known him all their lives, just as most everyone knew everyone else in Cerr Cawnen.
СBe it true, Lael?Т Demet burst out. СIs one of the Horsekin in the city?Т
СHe is, and we did see him. A bard, and blind as a mole. Councilman Verrarc says heТs come to claim some ancient due or service.Т
All the men swore, laying automatic hands on sword hilt or knife. Demet looked away to the distant shore and shaded his eyes with one hand, as if he were hoping to sec the stranger.
СI donТt see why we had to go and make treaties with them, anyway,Т Jahdo said.
СBetter than being their slaves, lad,Т Lael said. СOr the slaves of the wild tribes up to the north. Better to bargain with the Horsekin we know than fight the ones we donТt, hainТt?Т
СTrue spoken.Т Demet turned back to them. СBut IТll wager we call council fire tonight over this.Т
No one bothered to argue with him, and rightly so. Just at sunset the big bronze gong that hung at the top of Citadel began to clang and boom across the water. More ominous than thunder, each huge stroke hung in the darkening air. When Jahdo and his family left their quarters, he could see boats and coracles, skittering on their oars like so many waterbugs, as all round the shore the townsfolk swarmed across the lake. Every person who dwelt within earshot of the gong had the right to attend these councils and make their wishes known, man and woman alike, just as everyone had the right to vote for the town council, too. Out in the Rhiddaer there were no lords and kings. As the citizenry hurried up the steep streets of Citadel in a tide of rumour and fear, the family made its own way to the assembly ground.
In front of the stone council hall, which sported a colonnade and a flight of shallow steps, stretched a plaza, paved with bricks. Off to one side, the militia was heaping up wood for a bonfire to light the proceedings. Jahdo and Niffa scrambled to the top of the thick wall on the uphill side and watched the murmuring crowd grow larger and larger. Every now and then Jahdo would turn round and look back at the lake. Already in the cooler evening mists were rising over deep water. Since it was fed by hot springs, the lake ran warm. Just as the night grew thick, and the flames began to leap high from the fire, casting enormous shadows across the arches and pillars of the hall, the council barge tied up down at the jetty. From his perch Jahdo could see the torches bobbing along the twisted streets of Citadel and pick out the council members, too, as the procession panted its way up the steep hillside. Striding among them was the Gel daТThae bard.
СI be scared,Т Niffa said abruptly. СI donТt know why. I just feel so cold and strange, like.Т
СOh, heТs not so bad, really. The bard, I mean. And this wonТt have anything to do with us.Т
СDonТt go being so sure, little brother. I never feel like this for no reason at all.Т Her voice stuck in her throat, and she paused, gulping for air, СLetТs get off this wall. LetТs go find Mam and Da.Т
СI donТt want to. I canТt see anything down in the crowd.Т