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

His sobriety apparently touched some chord of response, for one of the
riders jostled the elbow of another of his comrades and gestured urgently
toward the black-cloaked figure sitting so calmly in their midst. The man so
jostled took a hard look at Camber and then held up the riding crop in his
hand. The sniggering and the catcalls died away immediately.
"Hold, lads. The old man thinks to outstare Deryni. What say you, old man?
Why should we not have our way with you?"
For answer, Camber let his shields flare to visibility, though he did not
permit himself to move, even then. Apprehensive murmurs rustled among the
men as the silvery mantle of his Deryniness glowed unmistakably in the
twilight. Several riders lowered their weapons sheepishly and tried to melt into
the shadows at the edge of the road, though most held their ground with
undiminished belligerence. A few flashed their own shields to light
momentarily, but they did not persist when their leader disdained to follow
suit. That one stared across at Camber with stony defiance.
'
"I see," he murmured.
"Do you? I don't think you do," Camber replied, barely trusting himself to
speak. "The fact that I am Deryni like yourselves alters nothing. The shame
upon you all is that so many should set upon so few of any race, who have done
them nary a harm. Has the King's Grace endeavored to protect the land and
guard its roads only to have his nobles flout his laws for their own sport?"
"The King's Law? Human law!" One of the men spat, a contemptuous, bitter
gesture which was repeated by several of his colleagues as the man continued.
"Our forbears ruled this land and helped to guard its borders. We were held in
honor and esteem, as well we should have been. Now this human king gives
over all our honors to his human toadies!"
"And you play directly into their hands!" Camber retorted. "Don't you see
how you give our enemies precisely what they want?"
The hand of the band's leader tightened on his crop, and his dark eyes took
on a cold, steely gleam.
 "How dare you speak to us that way? Just who are you?"
"Why should that matter?" Camber countered, halting Joram's indignant
beginnings of protest with a sharp gesture. "You do our race as much harm as
the very toadies you claim so to despise! What better excuse does a man like
Murdoch of Carthane need than the irresponsible actions of the likes of you,
giving the proof to his lies?"
That accusation brought angry mutterings to more lips, and one brash soul
spurred his horse hard into Camber's to grab a handful of black cloak and
attempt to pull its wearer from the saddle. A deft evasive movement on the part
of Camber forestalled the intended result, almost transferring it to the
perpetrator, but the move was also sufficient to throw the cloak back from that
shoulder and expose the collar of golden H's and jewelled pectoral cross lying
on and across Camber's chest. As their significance registered, several gasps of
recognition rippled through the band.
"Good God, it's the chancellor!"
Beside Camber, Joram allowed himself a tiny sigh of relief and lowered his
sword, though he did not sheath it just yet. The four guards remained at the
ready, sensing that their chances of survival had just shifted back in their favor,
yet not precisely certain how that had been accomplished. Tension was