"Esther M. Friesner - Hallowmass" - читать интересную книгу автора (Friesner Esther M)

his chisel. "My boy, think. What would a lady do in such a place, so late, so
lone? Are you sure of what you heard? Perhaps it was the wind."

"Does the wind sing Christ's hosannas?" The saintly stone children born of
Master Giles's hand had faces less set and stern than Benedict's.

"I mean, perhaps the wind brought you the sound of human voices from a
distance," the man suggested. "There are convents in the wood, and the holy
sisters-"

"I touched her sleeve. It flowed over my fingertips like water. I touched her
hand. It was softer than the muzzle of a newborn foal."

"How did she come to permit these liberties?"

"The second time I heard her song, I rushed forward calling on her to reveal
herself, in Christ's name. I couldn't bear to have that sound taken from me
again. I imagined that if she was a Christian, she must heed my plea, and if she
was not then the power of Our Lord's name would break her glamour and hold her
where she stood." His look was rueful as he added: "When I ran, I tripped over a
pig."

The agitation of Master Giles's spirit almost broke free as laughter. He
smothered it. "She came to your aid, then'" The boy confirmed this. "And was
that when you learned who this lady was?"

"She said she was called the lady Oudhalise." The boy pronounced the outlandish
name as easily as if it were plain Mary. "She told me that her kin lived nearby,
but that I had found her at home."

"At home! In a ruin? A place with no stone left atop another? She must have been
mad." The stonecutter was aghast at the thought of his son in such company.

Fresh tears trembled in the boy's milky eyes. "Then I wish I were as mad as
she."

Master Giles cast his arms around Benedict and held him tight. "Don't speak so!
For the sake of your soul, don't."

The boy was stiff in his father's embrace. "For the sake of my soul, she taught
me her songs. We sat there until the night was cold around us and she sang for
me until I had them all by heart. She told me, 'The women here once heard a man
who told them that they could not enter heaven except as children. I can never
be a child, but I long for the promise of your heaven. My songs are my offering
to the Lord I seek, though the lord I serve would destroy me if he knew I give
them to you. Take them into your heart. Take me with you to the gates of
paradise.'"

Master Giles shook his head. Madness, he thought, but all he said was: "Poor
lady."