"Katherine Kurtz - Camber 3 - Camber the Heretic" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kurtz Katherine)

thumb ring on his left hand. "Well, his swordsmanship is the best he can
manage, under the circumstances, I suppose," he said depreciatingly. "And Earl
Tammaron says he rides rather better than anyone ever expected he
couldтАФbetter than the other two boys, if the truth be known," he admitted
grudgingly. "ButтАФthe devil take it, Sire, he's not fit to wear the Crown after his
brother, and you know it! The people won't tolerate a cripple on the throne. Not
only that, I don't like the ideas that young Lord Tavis is putting into his head.
Bishop Hubert and I did warn you about a Deryni tutor, Your Grace!"
"Yes, you did warn me," Cinhil replied neutrally, glancing aside
uncomfortably at the most decidedly Deryni Bishop of Grecotha and at Joram.
"However, Tavis O'Neill is a highly qualified teacher, and a fine Healer, as well.
With Javan'sтАФhandicapтАФit seemed an ideal pairing."
"What ails Prince Javan cannot be helped by a Healer, Your Grace," Murdoch
retorted coldly. "Forgive my bluntness, but you know that is true. And
meanwhile, that Deryni poisons the boy's mind against those who are
entrusted with his care and education. He hates Rhun. He undermines the
authority ofтАФ"
"Have you proof of this, my lord?" Camber interjected, quietly, but with such
intensity that Murdoch was cut off in midsentence. "It appears to me that you
are accusing Lord Tavis of sedition, a serious allegation. Unless you have
proofтАФ"
"Sire! Must I be contradicted in the performance of my duty?" Murdoch
retorted, drawing himself up like an angry spider. "If the King's Grace insists
upon surrounding his royal person with Deryni, such as slew Your Grace's
noble family many years ago, that is certainly the royal prerogative! But Your
Grace has given me the responsibility of raising up the future heirs of this
realm, and if I am to fulfill that responsibility, I must have some authority. The
royal nursery is not the place for Deryni, Healers or no!"
Camber opened his mouth, then closed it, glancing at Cinhil for some
guidance as to how and whether he should proceed. Cinhil had gone white at
Murdoch's words of accusation, his grey eyes darting to Camber almost as if the
bishop personally had drawn the bow which sent feathered shafts of death into
his great-grandfather's body, plunging the kingdom into those dark years
called the Interregnum.
All at once, Camber was poignantly reminded of the delicate balance he
constantly walked with Cinhil, despite nearly a decade and a half of close
association, both as Camber and as Alister. And in all that time, the core of
royal doubt about Deryni had not really diminishedтАФnot in that private
heart-of-hearts to which Cinhil still retreated under stress.
Camber did not move, only his ice-pale Alister eyes pleading with Cinhil for
a return to sanity, a denial of the insinuations which Murdoch had just flung
out like a gauntlet. The Interregnum times were past. Cinhil knew that in his
head. The Deryni who served the present Haldane line were of a different breed
than those who had put the Festils into power nearly a century before.
But Cinhil must say that, not Camber or Alister Cullen.
For a seemingly interminable moment, Cinhil did not stir, his grey gaze
darting from Camber's face to Murdoch's and then back again, until Camber
thought he must burst from the tension.
Then Cinhil took a deep breath, as if about to make a major
pronouncementтАФand started coughing instead.