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

pomp. I and my sack of grouse and pheasant must wait outside the grand throne
room while trumpets sounded and pigeon-chested heralds bawled, "The emissary of
the Marquis of Carrabas!"
The first time, he greeted me in a mere antechamber, but this was the crystal-hung
jewel of all the rooms in his palace. Everywhere I looked, my eyes met spotless
white, or gleaming gilt, or the brilliant, blind sheen of mirrors. The courtiers stood in
stiff rows of starched lace and embossed brocade, lips quivering like pinned
butterflies behind the fluttering shields of fan and handkerchief and glove. Splendid
as a winter's dawn, the king upon his massive, golden throne. Lost, or deliberately
put aside, the childlike expression of avid wonder he'd worn when first he laid eyes
on me. His wig was on straight, too.
"You may approach us," he intoned, stretching forth his scepter. It was so
knobbed and crusted with gems that it looked like a tree-branch warted over with
strange, sparkling fungi. Tiny red-heeled shoes with golden buckles squeezed his
feet. I could have smiled. Hail, fellow sufferer! Greeting, my brother in torment!
Let us put aside sham, Your Majesty, and find a place apart where we can kick off
these painful bindings and be what we truly are.
I knew better than that, though, and the obeisance I made before the throne was
every aspiring courtier's model of perfection. Loosening the hempen ties of the
gunnysack, I brought forth each succulent bird one by one, praising it on points and
plumage, noting well the plumpness of breast and thigh until I'd robbed the old man
of all his plastered-over dignity and had him slavering, eyes aglow with nurtured
gluttony.
He recovered himself enough to thank me and my master, the Marquis, for our
kind attentions. The more rhapsodic his praise, the surer I knew that words were all
we'd have from him in recompense. That was all right: what he would not give freely,
I had means to take, in time. Besides, my plans had cause to thank his words, for
had he not spent so much time enamored of his own tongue, I might never have
beheld the princess.
She came late to the high-ceiled audience chamber, entering without excuse or
ceremony. Tall and proud, she was a creature lacking shame or fear. The courtiers
parted before her, wheat stalks bending away from the reaper's hook. Planked in
panels of heavily embroidered white satin, sleeves dripping gold lace, diamonds
frosting her dark hair, she cut through the room like the hungry black fang of the
plow.
Breed him to princes.
Yes, and such a one as this. I met her eyes and liked what I saw. We were kin.
She was born to be a devourer of men. It would serve him right.
Courts are great places for gossip. I made it my business to glean some before I
left. The king commanded his cooks to offer me refreshment, which all of us took in
a salon where the walls were hung with rose taffetta, and serving maids goggled to
watch a cat drink wine. I lingered as long as I might, lapping glass after glass and
cocking a pointed ear to catch any crumb of knowledge the courtiers might let fall. I
departed the castle with an empty gunnysack and a brain crammed full of
information.
It would please king and daughter to go out driving next day, by the river road. It
was cold the morning I brought my old master's son to the riverbank, the ice and
snow gone, but their specters still lying over land and water. I do not think any
human mind could fathom the wicked glee of my heart when I told him to strip
naked and jump in.