"David Gemmel - Troy 02 - Shield of Thunder" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gemmel David)

So Heraklitos told the tale of the babe and the priestess. тАЬYou saw the Shield of Thunder?тАЭ asked
Hekabe.
тАЬI did, my queen, red and round with a white streak of lightning through the center.тАЭ
тАЬAnd the childтАЩs name?тАЭ
The question took the dying man by surprise. He had not thought of that day in years. He rubbed at his
eyes and saw again that cold corridor, and the lion-haired priestess, and the pale, exhausted queen.
Then it came to him.
тАЬPaleste, Highness.тАЭ


CHAPTER ONE
A BLACK WIND RISING
Penelope, queen of Ithaka, understood the nature of dreams and the portents and omens that dogged
menтАЩs lives. So she sat on the beach, a gold-embroidered shawl around her slender shoulders, and
glanced at the sky from time to time, watching for passing birds and hoping for a better omen. Five
swallows would predict a safe journey for Odysseus, two swans good fortune; an eagle would indicate
a victoryтАФor, for Odysseus, a trading success. But the skies were clear. A light wind sprang from the
north. The weather was perfect for sailing.
The old galley had been repaired, debarnacled, and recalked ready for spring, but new timbers and a
coat of fresh paint could not conceal her age, which showed in every line as she lay half in and half out
of the shallow water.
тАЬBuild a new ship, Ugly One,тАЭ she had told her husband countless times. тАЬThis one is old and tired and
will be your downfall.тАЭ They had argued about it for years. But in this she had no power to sway him.
He was not by nature a sentimental man; his affable demeanor hid a core of bronze and horn, yet she
knew he would never replace the old ship he had named after her.
Penelope sighed, a gentle sadness settling over her. I am that ship, she realized. I am getting old.
There is gray in my hair, and the time is swiftly passing. But more significant than the fading of her
chestnut hair or the increasing lines upon her face, the monthly flows of blood that indicated youth
and fecundity were becoming less frequent. Soon she would be past childbearing age, and there
would be no new sons for Odysseus. The sadness deepened into sorrow as she remembered pale
Laertes and the fever that had melted away his flesh.
On the beach Odysseus was striding angrily around the galley, his face red, arms gesturing, bellowing
at his crewmen, who hurried to load the cargo. There was a sorrow among the men, too; she could feel
it as she watched them. A few days previously their comrade Portheos, whom they called Portheos
the Pig, a fat, jovial, and popular young man who had sailed with the Penelope for many summers, had
died. His young wife, pregnant with their fourth child, had awoken at dawn to find Portheos dead on
their pallet bed beside her.
On the Penelope two crewmen were hauling on a heavy bale of the brushwood used for packing cargo
in the hold. Suddenly one lost his grip and stumbled, and the other was catapulted into the sea after
the stack of wood. Odysseus swore colorfully and turned to his wife, raising his arms in a gesture of
despair.
Penelope smiled, her spirits lifting as she watched him. He was always happiest when about to leave
for foreign shores. Throughout the spring and summer he would roam the Great Green, buying and
selling, telling his stories, meeting kings and pirates and beggars.
тАЬIтАЩll miss you, lady,тАЭ he had told her the previous night as she lay in his arms, her fingers gently curling
into the red-gray hair of his chest. She had made no reply. She knew when he would remember
herтАФat each nightтАЩs fall, when the dangers of the day had passed, he would think of her and miss her
a little.
тАЬI will think of you every day,тАЭ he added. Still she said nothing. тАЬThe pain of your absence will be a
constant dagger wound in my heart.тАЭ