"Katherine Kurtz - Heirs 1 - Harrowing of Gwynedd" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kurtz Katherine)

and fit a key to its lock. From behind several veiled ciboria, Tiernan removed
what appeared to be a small, suede leather pouch, no bigger than the palm of
his hand. This he tucked into the front of his habit, signing for Queron to rise
and come with him toward the screened-off northern transept.
As Queron followed his guide through a doorway in the screen, several more
black-robed monks backed off skittishly from a bare patch of earth in front of
the transept altar, bowing cowled heads over folded hands as they pressed
against the far wall. They had been shifting heavy flagstones back into position
to cover the bare patchтАФwhich might pass as a grave, to the uninitiated; but
Queron recognized it instantly as the probable site of the Portal he knew Evaine
and Joram had planned to construct.
"God bless the work," Queron murmured, declining to speak more
specifically until he knew the exact status of the men watching him.
His quick mental cast locked on the Portal's distinctive tingle almost
immediately. Cautiously he moved the few steps necessary to center himself
within itтАФto the apparent consternation of several of the watchers. And to his
own consternation, a quick stretching of his powers failed to touch any other
Portal. Either he was out of range, or all the others he knew about had been
destroyed or blocked.
"Interesting,'' he murmured under his breath. "Brother Tiernan, I don't
suppose anyone left me any more explicit instructions?"
With a quiet hand sign, Tiernan signalled the other monks to depart. Only
when they had gone did he move close enough to Queron to hand him the
brown suede pouch.
"The Lady Evaine asked that I give this into your keeping only when you had
placed yourself where you now stand. IтАФdo not know what it contains or what
will happen when you take it out."
"But I am to open it here," Queron said, gingerly feeling at the contents of
the pouch through the leather. It seemed to be something flat and round,
perhaps of metal, possibly a medallion of some sort.
"Curious," he murmured. "Did she give you any other caution?"
Tiernan shook his head. "No, my lord. I watched them all leave through this
Portal, though. I know what happens, and I am not afraid."
"And you are rare among humans for that," Queron replied. "Did you know
that, Brother Tiernan?"
Tiernan shrugged. "I am only an ignorant monk, Domine. But I trust the
Lady Evaine and Father Joram. AhтАФhe said that you would recognize what lies
inside and that you would know what to do."
"Father Joram said that?"
"Aye, Domine."
"Then, we must not make a liar of him, must we?" Queron loosened the
strings of the pouch and peered inside.
"Well, what's this?" he said, beginning to pull out part of a narrow, green silk
cord, along with what was attached to it. "It'sтАФa Healer's seal. It's Rhys'
Healer's seal!" he breathed, as he caught the dull, silvery medallion in the palm
of his hand.
Rhys' name and the year of his matriculation from Saint Neot's were cut into
the side facing Queron; and if he turned it over, he knew it would bear Rhys'
personal coat of arms augmented with the star-pierced hand that was a Healer's
badge of vocation.