"Katherine Kurtz - Deryni 1 - Deryni Rising" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kurtz Katherine)

fingers in their leather gloves, drew the scarlet hunt cap farther down on his
forehead, the white plume floating gently on the still air.
The sounds of voices, barking hounds, the jingle of burnished bits and spurs
and other horse noises drifted up on the mist. Turning to look back down the
hill, he could catch fleeting glimpses of well-bred horses moving in the fog,
their equally well-bred riders resplendent in finely embroidered velvets and
polished leather.
Brion smiled at that. For despite the outward show of splendor and self-
assurance, he was certain that the riders below were enjoying the jaunt no
more than he was. The inclement weather had made the hunt a chore instead of
the anticipated pleasure.
Why, oh, why had he promised Jehana there would be venison for her table
tonight? He had known, when he said it, that it was too early in the season.
Still, one did not break one's promise to a lady-especially when that lady was
one's beloved queen and mother of the royal heir.
The low, plaintive call of the hunting horns con-finned his suspicion that the
scent was lost, and he sighed resignedly. Unless the weather cleared
dramatically, there was little hope of reassembling the scattered pack in
anything less than hah* an hour. And with hounds this green, it could be days,
even weeks!
He shook his head and chuckled as Tie thought of Ewan-so proud of his new
hounds earlier in the week. He knew that the old Marcher lord would have a lot
to say about this morning's performance. But however much he might make
excuses, Brion was afraid Ewan deserved all the teasing he was certain to get
in the weeks to come. A Duke of Claibourne should have known better than to
bring such puppies out in the field this early in the season.
The poor pups have probably never even seen a deer!
The sound of closer hoof beats reached Brion's ears, and he turned in the
saddle to see who was approaching. At length, a young rider in scarlet silks
and leathers emerged from the fog and urged his bay gelding up the bill. Brion
watched with pride as the boy slowed his mount to a walk and reined in at his
father's side.
"Lord Ewan says it will be awhile, Sire," the boy reported, his eyes sparkling
with the excitement of the chase. *The hounds flushed some rabbits."
"Rabbits!" Brion laughed out loud. "You mean to tell me that after all the
boasting we've had to endure for the past week, Ewan's going to make us sit
here and freeze while he rounds up his puppy dogs?"
"So it appears, Sire," Kelson grinned. "But if it's any consolation, everyone
in the hunt feels exactly the same way."
He has his mother's smile, Brion thought fondly. But the eyes, the hair, are
mine. He seems so young, though. Can it really be nearly fourteen years? Ah,
Kelson, if only I could spare you what lies ahead . . . Brion dismissed the
thought with a smile and a shake of the head. "Well, as long as everybody else
is miserable, I suppose I feel a bit better."
He yawned and stretched, then relaxed in the saddle. The polished leather
creaked as his weight shifted, and Brion sighed.
"Ah, if Morgan were only here. Fog or no fog, I think he could charm the deer
right to the city gates if he chose."
"Really?" Kelson asked.
"Well, perhaps not quite that close," Brion conceded. "But he has a way with