"Gray, Julia - Guardian 01 - The Dark Moon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gray Julia)

Prologue

It was a night when mountains ground their teeth, when islands moved like ships and the oceans boiled.
The birth of the Emperor's son had been prophesied many years before, but the court seers and advisors had left nothing to chance. The maiden selected to be the Emperor's seventh wife had been carefully chosen - from a noble family whose fecundity was legendary - and the required conception had been timed precisely nine median months in advance of the appointed day. All subsequent omens had been meticulously monitored and taken into account as the pregnancy progressed, and every contingency had been catered for. The midwives and physicians came equipped with potions that would induce labour if prayers alone proved ineffective.
In the event, and to the seers' delight, such measures were not required. The Seventh Empress of the Floating Islands knew her duty, and her young mind ordered her body into action.
Shortly before midnight on the fateful day, the Emperor's son was born. He was a plump and strangely placid baby, who had to be coaxed into uttering his first cry, but who nonetheless appeared physically normal. This came as something of a relief, as many legends had spoken of strange and hideous defects in children born when the multiple lunar influence was at its strongest.
All those present were happily congratulating themselves on their success in fulfilling the prophecy when the all but forgotten Empress screamed again, signalling that her confinement was not over. The birth had been predicted by augury. What had not been foreseen was the fact that there would be two imperial children born that night.
Adina's second son could not have presented a greater contrast to his twin. He was tiny, his skin mottled with purple as if it were bruised, and he screamed incessantly - without the need of any prompting - from the moment he came into the world. Worse still, his right arm was withered - the hand little more than a tiny, grotesque claw - and his right leg was twisted so that the foot was bent back upon itself.
Dazed from pain and exhaustion, the Empress stared at the baby as he lay howling in the arms of a nervous midwife. No one knew what this unexpected arrival portended, least of all Adina, but she understood instinctively that it was up to her to dispel the cloud of uncertainty that now hung over the previously joyful occasion.
'Show him to me.' Although her voice was hoarse and weary, the tone of command was unmistakable.
In spite of her own fears, the midwife held out the baby to the Empress. When Adina saw the full extent of his deformities, she could not hide the look of revulsion on her face. She made no move to take the child, and the midwife hesitated, waiting to be told what to do next. It was at that moment that the baby chose to open his eyes for the first time, falling silent at last as he gazed at his mother's face. It was Adina's turn to scream.
'Take it away!' she shrieked. 'Take it away!'
As her attendants hurried to obey, wrapping the baby in a swaddling cloth and carrying him to the far side of the room, the Empress fought to regain her composure.
'Get that thing out of my sight,' she grated. 'And bring me my son.'' In that instant she made it clear to everyone present that, in her mind, she had only one son - and the observers took their cue from her. The senior midwife brought the elder twin to the bedside, while minions cleared away the bloody sheets and tried to restore a semblance of normality to the scene. Adina cradled the child, looking at him with eyes that were full of relief as well as love.
'This is my son,' she whispered. 'This is my son.'
In the antechamber where most of the court seers were gathered, the news that the Empress had given birth to twins was greeted with exclamations of disbelief. Their consternation increased when they learnt of the second boy's defects, and of the Empress's reaction to them. The hurried and anxious debate that followed was led, naturally enough, by Mirival, the Chief Seer. As the Emperor's closest advisor, he knew it would be his duty to report the unexpected event to his lord, but before he did so he needed a plausible explanation. In particular he had to explain the failure of their augury. Mirival prided himself on the fact that no one in all Vadanis knew more about the Tindaya Code, but his many readings of that ancient text had found absolutely no mention of twins. He had never even considered such a possibility, and nor had any of his fellow astrologers. How could their science have failed them so drastically, especially when their other predictions had all proved to be so accurate?
Mirival looked around at his colleagues, seeing his own fears reflected in their frowning eyes, and knew that they too were at a loss.
'Theories, gentlemen?' he prompted, without any real hope.
'There's nothing in the Code to even suggest-' 'I'm aware of that,' Mirival snapped. 'We've a great deal of work ahead of us, trying to seek out what we've missed, but that will have to wait. What I need right now is a way to present this to Dheran - and to the people.'
There was a long, awkward silence, as each of the seers contemplated just how foolish they were going to appear.
'Do the people have to know?' Kamin suggested timidly.
Mirival was about to tell his deputy not to be so stupid, but then he held his tongue, considering the idea.
'Should we not take our lead from the Empress?' Fauria enquired. 'Women's instincts do not contain the logic of astrology, but they cannot always be dismissed lightly. If Adina disowns the second boy, we can surely do the same.' 'Exactly,' Kamin said, more confident now that he had received some support from a fellow seer. 'Hide him away somewhere safe, and no one need know he even exists.'
'But the midwives will gossip, like all servants,' Shahan pointed out. He was the eldest of the group - and some said the least imaginative. 'We won't be able to silence all the rumours.'
'There will be some practical difficulties,' Mirival conceded thoughtfully. 'But silence can be bought or enforced if necessary.' He was beginning to warm to the idea. Keeping the second birth secret could save much embarrassment. Plans were already forming in his calculating mind.
'We'll still have our Guardian,' Fauria said. 'His destiny can unfold as planned.'
'And there's every likelihood that the second infant will die soon anyway,' Kamin added. 'He's clearly crippled, and who knows what damage may have been done to his internal organs.'
'Including his brain,' Fauria put in.
They paused again as the implications of that remark sank in.
'It would do the Emperor's standing no good if it were to become known that he had sired an imbecile,' one of the other seers observed.
'Seal the doors!' Mirival cried, suddenly decisive. 'No news, nothing at all, leaves these rooms without my express approval.' As guards hurried to obey his orders, he lowered his voice again and looked round at his colleagues. 'I will speak to everyone here before they leave the palace, to ensure their cooperation, but right now I must talk to Dheran. We can't hide the truth from him.' Much as I'd like to, he added silently. 'So, what should I tell him?'
Shahan, who had been silent throughout the discussion, his disapproval evident, now spoke again.
'Perhaps the second boy could actually be considered a blessing,' he said, then hurried to explain in the face of the incredulity displayed by his colleagues. 'Perhaps he was there to absorb the malign influences of the conjunction, so that his twin might be saved from any such afflictions and become the hero we all desire. Perhaps his role was to protect the Guardian.'
The old man watched as his fellow seers absorbed this idea, noting the eagerness that crept into their expressions, and wondered whether he actually believed his own theory.
'Coming from anyone else,' Mirival responded, smiling,
'I would take that as superstitious nonsense. From you it carries the stamp of authority.' And it'll certainly be good enough for Dheran, he thought privately. Dress it up in some suitably oracular language and he'll swallow it whole.
'It's almost midnight, sir,' a deferential voice reminded him.
Mirival nodded.
'Everyone is to remain where they are until I return,' he informed the gathering. 'It is time for my audience with the Emperor.'
Dheran was engrossed in a game of chaikra when Mirival entered the room. A glance at the board told the seer that the Emperor's position was hopeless, and that any competent opponent would force a win in a few moves. However, he also knew that Remi, the young courtier who was Dheran's adversary, would prolong the game for some time - and perhaps even contrive to lose, in spite of his clearly superior skill. That boy will go far, Mirival thought, as the young man looked up expectantly.
Dheran made the move that he had evidently been considering for some time, then glanced up at his advisor.
'Is it over?'
'Yes, Your Majesty. The Empress has delivered you a healthy son, exactly as prophesied.'
'Excellent.'
'Congratulations, sire,' Remi said.
'May I speak with the Emperor alone for a few moments, please.'
Although it had been phrased as a request, Remi was more than capable of recognizing an order when he heard one. He rose and left the room quickly, but in such a graceful manner that there was never any suggestion of haste in his movements. Mirival waited until the door closed softly behind him before speaking again.
'There was, however, one slight complication.'
'How is Adina? Is she well?' Dheran asked, genuine concern in his dark eyes.
'The Empress is in perfect health, although naturally tired and overwrought,' the seer replied, marvelling at the fact that Dheran actually cared for his seventh wife.