"Kay, Guy Gavriel - Fionavar Tapestry 1 - The Summer Tree" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kay Guy Gavriel)

УReally. What about Gorlaes? He was pretty quick to call in the marines. Was he just following orders, or\a151Ф
УNot a chance, Paul. I saw his face when Diarmuid made us guest-friends. Not happy, my friend.Ф
УReally?Ф Schafer said. УWell, that simplifies things at least. IТd like to know more about this Jaelle, though. And DiarmuidТs brother, too.Ф
УThe nameless one?Ф Kevin intoned lugubriously. УHe of no name?Ф
Schafer snorted. УFunny man. Yes, him.Ф
УWeТll figure it out. WeТve figured things out before.Ф
УI know,Ф said Paul Schafer, and after a moment gave a rare smile.
УOh, Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?Ф came a plaintive cry from off to their left. They looked over. Kim Ford, languishing for all she was worth, swayed towards them from the next balcony. The leap was about ten feet.
УIТm coming!Ф Kevin responded instantly. He rushed to the edge of their own balcony.
УOh, fly to me!Ф Kimberly trilled. Jennifer, behind her, began almost reluctantly to laugh.
УIТm coming!Ф Kevin repeated, ostentatiously limbering up. УYou two all right there?Ф he asked, in mid-flex. УBeen ravished yet?Ф
УNot a chance,Ф Kim lamented. УCanТt find anyone whoТs man enough to jump to our balcony.Ф
Kevin laughed. УIТd have to do it pretty fast,Ф he said, Уto get there before the Prince.Ф
УI donТt know,Ф Jennifer Lowell said, Уif \ianyone\i can move faster than that guy.Ф
Paul Schafer, hearing the banter begin, and the laughter of the two women, moved to the far end of the balcony. He knew, very well, that the frivolity was only a release from tension, but it wasnТt something to which he had access any more. Resting his own ringless, fine-boned hands on the railing, he gazed out and down at the denuded garden below. He stood there, looking about him, but not really seeing: the inner landscape demanded its due.
Even had Schafer been carefully scanning the shadows, though, it is unlikely that he would have discerned the dark creature that crouched behind a clump of stunted shrubs, watching him. The desire to kill was strong upon it, and Paul had moved to within easy range of the poison darts it carried. He might have died then.
But fear mastered bloodlust in the figure below. It had been ordered to observe, and to report, but not to kill.
So Paul lived, observed, oblivious, and after a time he drew a long breath and lifted his eyes from sightless fixation on the shadows below.
\iTo see a thing none of the others saw.\i
High on the stone outer wall enclosing the garden stood an enormous grey dog, or a wolf, and it was looking at him across the moonlit space between, with eyes that were not those of a wolf or a dog, and in which lay a sadness deeper and older than anything Paul had ever seen or known. From the top of the wall the creature stared at him the way animals are not supposed to be able to do. And it called him. The pull was unmistakable, imperative, terrifying. Looming in night shadow it reached out for him, the eyes, unnaturally distinct, boring into his own. Paul touched and then twisted his mind away from a well of sorrow so deep he feared it could drown him. Whatever stood on the wall had endured and was still enduring a loss that spanned the worlds. It dwarfed him, appalled him.
And it was calling him. Sweat cold on his skin in the summer night, Paul Schafer knew that this was one of the things caught up in the chaotic vision LorenТs searching had given him.
With an effort brutally physical, he broke away. When he turned his head, he felt the motion like a twist in his heart.
УKev,Ф he managed to gasp, the voice eerie in his, own head.
УWhat is it?Ф His friendТs response was instant.
УOver there. On the wall. Do you see anything?Ф Paul pointed, but did not look back.
УWhat? ThereТs nothing. What did you see?Ф
УNot sure.Ф He was breathing hard. УSomething. Maybe a dog.Ф
УAnd?Ф
УAnd it wants me,Ф Paul Schafer said.
Kevin, stunned, was silent. They stood a moment like that, looking at each other, not sharing, then Schafer turned and went inside. Kevin stayed a while longer, to reassure the others, then went in himself. Paul had taken the smaller of the two beds that had been hastily provided, and was lying on his back, hands behind his head.
Wordlessly, Kevin undressed and went to bed. The moon slanted a thin beam of light into the far corner of the room, illuminating neither of them.

\bChapter 5\b

All the night they had been gathering. Stern men from AilellТs own birthplace in Rhoden, cheerful ones from high-walled Seresh by Saeren, mariners from Taerlin-del, and soldiers from the fastness of North Keep, though not many of these because of the one who was exiled. From villages and dust-dry farms all over the High Kingdom they came as well. For days they had been trickling into Paras Derval, crowding the inns and hostels, spilling out into makeshift campgrounds beyond the last streets of the town below the palace. Some had come walking west from the once-rich lands by the River Glein; leaning on the carved staffs of the southeast they had cut across the burnt-out desolation of the grain lands to join the dusty traffic on the Leinan Road. From the grazing lands and the dairy lands in the northeast others had come riding on the horses that were the legacy of their winter trading with the Dalrei by the banks of the Latham; and though their horses might be painfully gaunt, each mount yet bore the sumptuous woven saddle-cloth that every Brennin horseman crafted before he took a horse: a weaving for the WeaverТs gift of speed. From beyond Leinan they came as well, dour, dark farmers from Gwen Ystrat in their wide, six-wheeled carts. None of their women, though, not from so near Dun Maura in the province of the Mother.
But from everywhere else the women and children had come in noisy, festive number. Even in the midst of drought and deprivation, the people of Brennin were gathering to pay homage to their King, and perhaps to briefly forget their troubles in doing so.
Morning found them densely clustered in the square before the palace walls. Looking up they could see the great balustrade hung with banners and gaily colored streamers, and most wonderful of all, the great tapestry of Iorweth in the Wood, brought forth for this one day that all the folk of Brennin might see their High King stand beneath the symbols of M\a243rnir and the Weaver both, in Paras Derval.
But all was not consigned to high and sacred things. Around the fringes of the crowd moved jugglers and clowns, and performers doing glittering things with knives and swords and bright scarves. The cyngael chanted their ribald verses to pockets of laughing auditors, extemporizing satires for a fee upon whomever their benefactor designated; not a few revenges were thus effected in the clear, cutting words of the cyngael\a151immune since ColanТs day from any law save that of their own council. Amid the babble, pedlars carried their colorful goods about or erected hasty booths from which to display their craft in the sunlight. And then the noise, never less than a roar, became a thundering, for figures had appeared on the balustrade.
The sound hit Kevin like a blow. He regarded the absence of sunglasses as a source of profound and comprehensive grief. Hung-over to incapacity, pale to the edge of green, he glanced over at Diarmuid and silently cursed the elegance of his figure. Turning to Kim\a151and the movement hurt like hell\a151he received a wry smile of commiseration, which salved his spirit even as it wounded his pride.
It was already hot. The sunlight was painfully brilliant in the cloudless sky, and so, too, were the colors worn by the lords and ladies of AilellТs court. The High King himself, to whom theyТd not yet been presented, was further down the balcony, hidden behind the intervening courtiers. Kevin closed his eyes, wishing it were possible to retreat into the shade, instead of standing up front to be seen . . . red Indians, indeed. Red-eyed Indians, anyhow. It was easier with his eyes closed. The fulsome voice of Gorlaes, orating the glittering achievements of AilellТs reign, slid progressively into background. What the hell kind of wine did they make in this world, Kevin thought, too drained to be properly outraged.
The knock had come an hour after theyТd gone to bed. Neither of them had been asleep.
УCareful,Ф said Paul, rising on one elbow. Kevin had swung upright and was pulling on his cords before moving to the door.
УYes?Ф he said, without touching the lock. УWho is it?Ф
УConvivial night persons,Ф came an already familiar voice. УOpen up. IТve got to get Tegid out of the hallway.Ф
Laughing, Kevin looked over his shoulder. Paul was up and half dressed already. Kevin opened the door and Diarmuid entered quickly, flourishing two flasks of wine, one of them already unstoppered. Into the room behind him, also carrying wine, came Coll and the preposterous Tegid, followed by two other men bearing an assortment of clothing.
УFor tomorrow,Ф the Prince said in response to KevinТs quizzical look at the last pair. УI promised IТd take care of you.Ф He tossed over one of the wine flasks, and smiled.
УVery kind of you,Ф Kevin replied, catching it. He raised the flask in the way heТd learned in Spain, years before, to shoot a dark jet of wine down his throat. He flipped the leather flask over to Paul who drank, wordlessly.
УAh!Ф exclaimed Tegid, as he eased himself onto a long bench. УIТm dry as JaelleТs heart. To the King!Ф he cried, raising his own flask, Уand to his glorious heir, Prince Diarmuid, and to our noble and distinguished guests, and to. . . .Ф The rest of the peroration was lost in the sound of wine voluminously pouring into his mouth. At length the flow ceased. Tegid surfaced, belched, and looked around. УIТve a mighty thirst in me tonight,Ф he explained unnecessarily.
Paul addressed the Prince casually. УIf youТre in a party mood, arenТt you in the wrong bedroom?Ф
DiarmuidТs smile was rueful. УDonТt assume you were a first choice,Ф he murmured. УYour charming companions accepted their dresses for tomorrow, but nothing more, IТm afraid. The small one, KimФ\a151he shook his head\a151Уhas a tongue in her.Ф