"Jordan, Robert - Wheel of Time 10 - crossroads of twilight" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jordan Robert)

balconies and wide windows that surrounded the courtyard, they
moved as if expecting a crossbow bolt between the shoulder blades.
One set of stable doors stood slightly ajar, but in spite of the cold,
they divided themselves between the corners of the courtyard, hud-
dling with the horses where they could keep watch in every direc-
tion. If the worst came, perhaps a few might make it out.
Removing his gauntlets, he tucked them behind his belt and
checked his lace as he climbed the stairs with Jaalam. Snow that
had been trodden underfoot and frozen again crackled beneath his
boots. He refrained from looking anywhere but straight ahead. He
must appear supremely assured, as though there were no possibil-
ity events should go other than as he expected. Confidence was one
key to victory. The other side believing you were confident was
sometimes almost as good as actually being confident. At the head
of the stairs, Jaalam pulled open one of the tall, carved doors by its
gilded ring. Ituralde touched his beauty spot with a finger to make
sure it was in place--his cheeks were too cold to feel the black vel-
vet star clinging--before he stepped inside. As self-assured as he
would have been at a ball.
The cavernous entry hall was as icy as the outside. Their breath
made feathered mists. Unlit, the space seemed already wreathed in
twilight. The floor was a colorful mosaic of hunters and animals,
the tiles chipped in places, as though heavy weights had been
dragged over them, or perhaps dropped. Aside from a single top-
pled plinth that might once have held a large vase or a small statue,
the hall was bare. What the servants had not taken when they fled
had long since been looted by bandits. A single man awaited them,
white-haired and more gaunt than when Ituralde had last seen
him. His breastplate was battered, and his earring was just a small
gold hoop, but his lace was immaculate, and the sparkling red
quarter moon beside his left eye would have gone well at court, in
better times.
"By the Light, be welcome under the White Ribbon, Lord Itu-
ralde," he said formally, with a slight bow.
"By the Light, I come under the White Ribbon, Lord Shim-
ron," Ituralde replied, making his courtesy in return. Shimron had
been one of Alsalam's most trusted advisors. Until he joined the

22 C R O S S R O A D S OF T W I L I G H T


Dragonsworn, at least. Now he stood high in their councils. "My
armsman is Jaalam Nishur, honor bound to House Ituralde, as are
all who came with me."
There had been no House Ituralde before Rodel, but Shimron
answered Jaalam's bow, hand to heart. "Honor be to honor. Will
you accompany me, Lord Ituralde?" he said as he straightened.
The great doors to the ballroom were gone from their hinges,
though Ituralde could hardly imagine bandits looting those. They