"01 - Canticle - R A Salvatore 1.0" - читать интересную книгу автора (Cleric Quintet)

Cadderly shook his head and ran from the room, pausing only to grab a scrap of parchment and dip the quill he kept stuck under his hat band into an open inkwell. He had witnessed the Withering Touch perfectly, and he wanted to sketch the image while it was fresh in his mind. this time, Danica's laughter was not so soft.



Canticle



"They are singing to it!" Druzil cried in amazement, not certain of whether that was a good thing or not. The religious fanatics of Castle Trinity had taken the potion to heart; even the not-so-faithful, such as Ragnor and, by Aballister's estimation, Barjin, had been swept up in the zealous flow. "Though not very well, I fear." The imp put his wings over his ears to lessen the sound.

Aballister, too, did not enjoy the discordant wails that resounded throughout the castle complex with a zeal that walls and doors could not diminish, but he tolerated the clerics better than his worrisome imp. The wizard, too, was not without his reservations, though. Ever since the battle in the dining hall four weeks before, Barjin had forcefully taken the project as his own and had led the chorus of chants to the Most Fatal Horror.

"Barjin has the wealth," Druzil reminded the wizard, as though the imp had sensed Aballister's thoughts.

Aballister replied with a grim nod. "I fear that my insult has been turned back on me," he explained, moving slowly to the window and looking out over the Shining Plains. "By naming the chaos curse the Most Fatal Horror, I sought to demean Barjin, to weaken Percival position, but he has weathered the torment and resisted his prideful urging better than I had expected. All the followers believe his sincerity, to Talona and to the chaos curse." Aballister sighed. On the one hand, he was disappointed that his ploy had not stung Barjin, at least not outwardly, but on the other hand, the priest leader, sincere or not, was surely preparing Castle Trinity for the coming trials and thus was furthering Talona's will.

"If the followers believe our mixture is a simple magical concoction, no matter how potent, they will not so readily give their lives to the cause," Aballister reasoned, turning back on Druzil. "There is nothing like religion to rouse the rabble."

"You do not believe the elixir is an agent of Talona?" Druzil asked, though he already knew the answer.

"I know the difference between a magical concoction and a sentient shield man," Aballister replied dryly. "The elixir will indeed serve the Lady of Poison's cause, and so its title is a fitting one."

"Barjin has put all the forces of Castle Trinity behind him," Druzil quickly responded, his tone ominous. "Even Ragnor does not dare go against him."

"Why would he, or anyone else, want to?" Aballister replied. "The chaos curse soon will be put to proper use, and Barjin has played a major role in that."

"At what price?" the imp demanded. "I gave the recipe for the chaos curse to you, my master, not the priest. Yet it is the priest who controls its fate and uses you and the other wizards to serve his own designs "

"We are a brotherhood, sworn to loyalty."

"You are a gathering of thieves," Druzil retorted. "Be not so swift in presuming the existence of honor. If Ragnor did not fear you, and did not see profit in keeping you, he would cut you down. Barjin-" Druzil rolled his bulbous eyes "-Barjin cares for nothing except Barjin. Where are his scars? His tattoos? He does not deserve his title, nor the leadership of the priests. He falls to his knees for the goddess only because doing so makes those around him praise him for his holiness. There is nothing religious-"

"Enough, dear Druzil," soothed the wizard, waving one hand calmly.

"Do you deny that Barjin controls the chaos curse?" Druzil retorted. "Do you believe that Barjin would show any loyalty to Aballister if he did not need Aballister?"

The wizard walked away from the small window and fell back into his wooden chair, unable to argue those points. But even if he admitted that he had miscalculated, he could do little now to stop events from following their course. Barjin had the elixir and the money, and if Aballister meant to recapture control of the potion for himself, he might have to fight a war within the triumvirate. Aballister and his wizard comrades were powerful, but they were only three. With Barjin whipping the hundreds of Castle Trinity soldiers into religious fervor, the wizards had become somewhat secluded within the complex.

"They have added rituals and conditions," the imp went on, spitting every word with distaste. "Did you know that Barjin has placed warding glyphs on the flask, so that it might be opened only by an innocent?"

"That is a typical priestly ploy," Aballister replied casually, trying to alleviate Druzil's worries.

"He does not understand the power under his control," Druzil retorted. "The chaos curse needs no 'priestly ploys.'"

Aballister gave an unconcerned shrug, but he, too, had not agreed with Barjin's decision concerning those glyphs. Barjin thought that allowing an innocent to serve as an unintentional catalyst was fitting for the agent of the chaotic goddess, but Aballister feared that the cleric was simply adding conditions to an already complicated process.

"Barjin quiesta pas tellemara," Druzil muttered.

Aballister narrowed his eyes. He had heard that obviously unflattering phrase in many different contexts these last few weeks, most often aimed at him. He kept his suspicions to himself, though, realizing that many of Druzil's complaints were valid.