"Robin Hobb - Tawny Man 2 - Golden Fool" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hobb Robin)

been known as the Cult of the Bastard.
These ridiculous claims were intended to give some sort of legitimacy to the
Piebald quest to overthrow the Farseer monarchy and put one of their own on the
throne. To this end, the Piebalds began a clever campaign of forcing the Witted
either to unite with them or risk exposure. Perhaps this tactic was inspired by
Kebal Rawbread, leader of the Outislanders during the Red Ship war, for it is
said that he drew men to follow him, not by his charisma, but by fear of what he
would do to their homes and families if they refused to fall in with his plans.
The PiebaldsтАЩ technique was simple. Either families tainted with the Wit-magic
joined their alliance or they were exposed by public accusations that led to their
execution. It is said that the Piebalds often began an insidious attack on the
fringes of a powerful family, exposing first a servant or a less affluent cousin, all
the while making it clear that if the head of the stalwart house did not comply with
their wishes he, too, would eventually meet such an end.
This is not the action of folk who wish to bring an end to persecution of their
kin. This is the act of a ruthless faction determined to gain power for themselves,
first by subjugating their own kind.
RowelIтАЩs The Piebald Conspiracy

The watch had changed. The town watchmanтАЩs bell and cry came thin through
the storm, but I heard it. Night had officially ended and we were venturing
towards morning and still I sat in JinnaтАЩs cottage waiting for Hap to return. Jinna
and I shared the comfort of her cosy hearth. JinnaтАЩs niece had come in some
time ago and chatted with us briefly before she sought her bed. Jinna and I
passed the time, feeding log after log to the fire and chatting about
inconsequential things. The hedge-witchтАЩs little house was warm and pleasant,
her company congenial, and waiting for rny boy became an excuse that allowed
me to do what I wished, which was simply to sit quietly where I was.
 Conversation had been sporadic. Jinna had asked how my errand had gone. I
had replied that it had been my masterтАЩs business and that I had but
accompanied him. To keep that from sounding too brusque, I added that Lord
Golden had acquired some feathers for his collection and then chatted to her
about Myblack. I knew Jinna had no real interest in hearing about my horse, but
she listened amiably. The words filled the small space between us comfortably.
In truth, our real errand had had nothing to do with feathers, and had been
more mine than Lord GoldenтАЩs. Together, we had recovered Prince Dutiful from
the Piebalds who had first befriended and then captured him. We had returned
him to Buckkeep with none of his nobles the wiser. Tonight the aristocracy of the
Six Duchies feasted and danced, and tomorrow they would formalize Prince
DurifulтАЩs betrothal to the Outisland narcheska Elliania. Outwardly, all was as it
had been.
Few would ever know how much the seamless continuation of their normality
had cost the Prince and me. The PrinceтАЩs Wit-cat had sacrificed her life for him. I
had lost my wolf. For close to a score of years, Nighteyes had been my other
self, the repository of half my soul. Now he was gone. It was as profound a
change in my fife as the snuffing of a lamp makes in an evening room. His
absence seemed a solid thing, a burden I must carry in addition to my grief.
Nights were darker. No one guarded my back for me. Yet I knew I would continue
to live. Sometimes that knowledge seemed the worst part of my loss.
I reined back before I plunged completely inco self-pity. I was not the only one