"Huff, Tanya - Kigh 01 - Sing The Four Quarters V2.0" - читать интересную книгу автора (Huff Tanya)

Annice opened her eyes and decided she could cope. "I'm fine."
"You seen a healer yet?"
"I'll see one after I get to Elbasan."
Sarlo snorted. "Yer business."
Reaching under her jacket and sweater, Annice pulled out her flute, the ironwood warmed almost to body temperature. When the kigh arrived she'd Sing, but first she had to get their attention.
"They're gonna be deep with freeze-up so close," Sarlo observed.
Annice ignored her, setting her fingers and checking the movement of the single key. She took a deep breath and slowly released it, then lifted the flute to her mouth.
The kigh took their time responding to the call, but eventually three distinct shapes became visible just below the surface.
Three would have to be enough.
Shoving chilled fingers and flute between her legs, Annice Sang. Some bards argued that as long as the music was right and the desire strong, words were unimportant; that the kigh didn't understand the words anyway, so why tie rhyme and rhythm into knots in what was probably an unnecessary attempt to Sing a specific request.
Personally, Annice preferred to repeat variations of short phrases over and over. It occasionally got tedious, but it usually got results.
The kigh listened for a few moments, one lifting a swell two feet into the air the better to stare intently at the source of the Song, then suddenly all three dove and the boat jerked forward.
"Whoa!" Sarlo took a steadying step and braced herself against the sweep as Annice let the Song fade to silence. "This'll make us some time. How long do you figger they'll push for?"
Annice slumped forward. "Hard to say," she admitted. "I haven't actually asked for much, so we might make it out of the slow stretch before they get bored."
"Then what?"
"Then I'll play them a gratitude and we're back on our own."
"They won't hang around and cause trouble?"
"Probably notЕ" A sudden gust of wind lifted the top off a wave and flung it up over the high stern deck of the riverboat and into Annice's face. The air kigh flicked the last few drops off its fingers at her, then sped away.
"More kigh?" Sarlo asked.
"More kigh," Annice sighed and pulled the sleeve of her sweater down to wipe at the freezing water. "I've always been strongest in air, so they get jealous when I Sing the others."
"Sort of like being followed around by a bunch of obnoxious kids."
"Worse."
The pilot snorted. "You were never stuck on a river-boat with my right-out-of-the-Circle three."
"Why didn't you leave them with their father?"
"Couldn't. He was my crew till he got knocked off and drowned."
"I'm sorry."
"Why? You weren't the one what pushed him in."
Annice didn't care how unbardlike it was; she wasn't going to ask, she didn't want to know.
They were a day out of Riverton, buildings frequently visible on shore through the slanting rain, when Jon cast off a completed sock and said, "I figured out who you remind me of"
Annice felt her shoulders stiffen
"I was watching you last night at the inn, while you sang in the common room," he continued "Firelight was flickering on your profile, turning it kind of goldlike, and it suddenly hit me " He reached under his clothes and pulled out a coin
In spite of herself, Annice leaned over and looked Most of the sharp definition had worn away over the years, but it was still easy to see that the profile of the last king, not the current one, lay cradled in his palm He would have a Mikus, not a Theron, she sighed The gold coins were struck only once, at the beginning of a reign and named for the likeness of the king they bore
Jon tucked the old coin safely away "You look like your father"
"Only from that side"
"My youngest brother knows all twenty-seven verses to The Princess-Bard' and still sings it"
The only response she could think of was too rude to say, so she clamped her teeth shut
"Not a lot of songs stay popular for ten years, but this one's got a real catchy tune " He started to hum but abruptly broke off when he caught sight of her expression "I, uh, I guess you're tired of hearing it"
"You might say that Yes"
"Sorry It's justЧwell, the Princess-Bard crammed in right here beside me"
"It's the same person who was crammed in beside you yesterday"
"But yesterday, I didn't know you were the Princess Bard"
If he said it again, she was going to slug him
"Do you ever miss it? Being royal?"
"No Never"
And because she'd been trained to use her voice, he believed her. Annice had been fourteen when she left the palace for the Bardic Hall in Elbasan and while she never regretted the decision, she did occasionally wish that some things could've been different.
Given the chance to live it over, would she make the same choice?"
Yes
"King Mikus is near death"
The whisper had scurried around the palace for days The king had been dying for months, but this new phrasing had finally gained enough conviction to be repeated as a certainty in the city Goldsmiths who had the royal charter were making ready to cast the new coins Bards were working on eulogies while criers memorized the highlights of the old king's rule Priests prayed for the dying man's peace The more pragmatic visited Centers to pray for a peaceful transition of power
Deep in the palace, King Mikus' family gathered about him. Neither Prince Rihard, now joined to the Heir Apparent of Petrokia, nor Princess Irenka, now, by joining, Lady of the Havakeen Empire, could be present, but enough remained to pack the small bedchamber uncomfortably full.