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

"TheyтАФwere not gentle with her, Your Grace," the man said haltingly, "but
neither did theyтАФuse her. They тАФtore her garments andтАФthrew her to the
ground. But then they let her go," he added, almost puzzled. "It was a taunting
sort of play, as if they meant no real harm, but only sportтАФ"
"Sport!" The very thought set off Baron Manfred again, as he slogged his way
back toward the pair and Camber. "Nay, priest, do not side with them and call it
sport! They have offered grave insult to me and to my wife. For that, they shall
pay!"
"And so they shall, my lord," Camber soothed, "and I shall inform the
appropriate authorities immediately. I take it that your horses were run off?"
"Do you see any horses besides your own, you fool?" Manfred raged, his
hand clenching white-knuckled on the hilt of his sword. "We are stranded here
afoot, and it's getting dark, and likely to storm, and you prattle on ofтАФ"
"I shall have horses sent from the abbey as soon as possible, and an escort to
see you safely to your destination," Camber said smoothly, gesturing for his
men to come closer. "In the meantime, I shall leave you two of my men and four
of the horses. Guthrie, you and Caleb stay with his lordship until the abbot's
men arrive, then join us. Torin and Llew, leave your horses for now and ride
double with Joram and me. It's only a short way to Dolban."
The moon was just rising above the frosty trees when they came within sight
of the abbey gates. Torchlight illuminated several cowled figures walking guard
duty above the gatehouse, and the brands flickered and spat in the light mist
which had begun to descend.
Externally, the complex had changed little in the years since Queron
Kinevan and the zealous Guaire of Arliss had bought the then rundown
fortified manor and begun its restorationтАФthough, according to reports, the
inside no longer bore any resemblance to the modest manor house originally
built there.
Neither Camber nor Joram had ever set foot inside the walls, nor had ever
wished to, but it was obvious from Llew's hoot of recognition behind Joram, and
a monk's answering wave from the gatehouse, that he, at least, had been here
numerous times and was well known. Even though it was nearly full dark, the
gates were opened promptly at the sight of the two double-mounted horses. By
the time they had drawn rein in the courtyard and dismounted, it was clear
that Camber and Joram had been recognized, too. Grey-clad men and women
were gathering on the steps of the chapel which fronted the yard, even as
several of their brethren took the horses away toward the stables.
Camber fidgeted a little as he drew his cloak more closely around him,
wondering whether he had made a mistake in coming here. He had not realized
his own household was so rife with the cult of Camber, and he knew himself to
be on unfamiliar ground. He dismissed his men to go on to the shrine, then
stiffened as a small, wiry man in grey robes eased his way through the waiting
brothers and sisters and approached them. His face was guarded, a little
anxious to one who knew how to read it, but his manner was brisk and
efficient. It was plain that he still was not intimidated by either the Bishop of
Grecotha or the son of Saint Camber.
"Bishop Cullen, Father MacRorie, we are honored by your visit." He bent one
knee to kiss the episcopal ring on Camber's hand, then nodded formally to
Joram. "Brother Micah said you rode in mounted double. Is anything wrong? Is
it the king?"