"Katherine Kerr - Deverry 02 - Darkspell" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kerr Katherine)

meditations and banished the star and the circle. He went to his window and leaned out, watching the
warriors hurry across the ward far below on their way to the great hall for dinner. Seeing them laughing
and jesting stabbed guilt into his heart. His old fault had ripened the war, or so he saw it. Long ago, when
heтАЩd been a prince of the realm, heтАЩd been given the choice between marrying Brangwen of the Falcon
clan and thus making slower progress in learning dweomer (since he would have a wife and children to
care for), or casting her off and devoting himself to the craft. In his clumsy attempt to have the best of
both choices, heтАЩd brought three people to their deaths: Brangwen herself, her brother Gerraent, whoтАЩd
loved her with an incestuous and unholy passion, and Lord Blaen of the Boar, an honorable suitor whoтАЩd
had the bad luck to be entangled with GerraentтАЩs madness.
 If heтАЩd only married Brangwen, he reproached himself, they would have had heirs, who would have
had heirs in their turn to inherit the throne cleanly, and prevent the civil war. Perhaps. He warned himself
that no man could know the truth of that. On the other hand, this matter of the Boars was more closely
related to his mistake. Ever since theyтАЩd been given the Falcon lands as retribution for BlaenтАЩs death, the
Boars had swelled with pride and arrogance until theyтАЩd urged Gwerbret Cantrae to make a claim on a
throne that he was never meant tOтАЩhave.

And now all the actors in that ancient tragedy were gathered here in Cerrmor. That night at dinner,
Nevyn looked around the hall and marked them all: Blaen, eating with the rest of the Wolf riders as
Ricyn, their captain; Gerraent, sitting at GlynтАЩs left as his brother; Brangwen, with the blue tattoo of a
Moon-sworn rider on her cheek. They were all twined together still, but it was GweniverтАЩs lot in this life
that ached his heart the most.

Nevyn was seated at a table on the floor of the hall with the scribe and his wife, the head groom and
his, two underchamberlains, and the widowed Master of Weaponry, Ysgerryn. That particular evening,
Ysgerryn noticed Nevyn watching the Lady Gweniver as she ate and mentioned that earlier Dannyn had
brought her in to be fitted with a coat of mail.

тАШFortunately, IтАЩd saved some mail that used to fit Lord Dannyn when he was about fourteen,тАЩ
Ysgerryn went on. тАШIt could have been broken apart and reworked to a larger size, of course, but it was
such a nice bit of work I kept it for one of the young princes someday. It came in handy now.тАЩ

тАШSo it did. And what did the lord think of having the lady wear his old armor?тАЩ

тАШOddly enough, he was pleased. He said somewhat about it being an omen.тАЩ

IтАЩll just wager he did, Nevyn thought, curse him!

Once the meal was over, Nevyn started to leave the hall, but he noticed Dannyn coming over to sit
with Gweniver at her table. He lingered below the dais to eavesdrop, but Dannyn was only asking her an
innocent question about the mail.

тАШOh ye gods,тАЩ she said with a laugh. тАШMy shoulders ache like fire from wearing the thing! It must weigh
a good two stone.тАЩ

тАШIt does, at that,тАЩ Dannyn said. тАШBut keep wearing it, every cursed minute you can stand to have it on.
IтАЩd hate to lose a man of your spirit just because of a lack of training.тАЩ

With a drunken grin, young Lord Oldac leaned across the table, a beefy, blond lad with entirely too
high an opinion of himself.