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

against evil times to comeтАФthough the ultimate cost of such salvation might be
dire, indeed. His dark red head tipped downward in close-shielded reverie, the
pale eyes moody and unreadable as his right hand absentmindedly massaged a
handless left wrist.
And at the far end of the table, looking gloomily preoccupied, the
seventeen-year-old Ansel MacRorie turned a dagger over and over in his hands,
his pale golden hair proclaiming him close kin to Joram, even if all in the room
had not already been aware that he was Joram's nephew. Though Ansel should
have been Earl of Culdi by right of his birth, as heir to Camber's eldest son, he,
like Joram and everyone else in the room, was an outlaw in the eyes of the
established government.
The rest of Niallan's principal household officers and functionaries occupied
stools set along the rest of the table, two men to a side, his chancellor,
comptroller, provisioner, and garrison commander, the latter still wearing the
dark blue tunic and white sash of a Michaeline knight.
Sighing, Niallan slowly shook his head, not in negation of anything Joram
had said, but in grim resignation.
"Aye, 'tis an incalculable loss," he murmured. "Alister, Jebediah, and Rhys.
And unfortunately, I'm afraid we have to expect that things may get worse
before they get better. To assume anything less would be to leave ourselves
open to even greater disaster than we've already suffered."
"Which is precisely why I want you safely out of Dhassa, sir," Joram said
quietly.
"I will not even try to gainsay you," Niallan agreed, "but do try to accept my
position. When I became Bishop of Dhassa, I was made shepherd of all her
people, human as well as Deryni. I have Deryni responsibilities, that is true;
but I cannot desert my human flock when they need me most.''
"No, but you must not wait so long that you let yourself be taken," Joram
retorted, setting his hands on the back of Ansel's chair. "That does no one any
service except the regents, who you know seek your death."
Niallan smiled, toying with the bishop's amethyst on his right hand. "Then, I
am in good company," he said lightly, "for you and Ansel have even higher
prices on your heads than I. But don't worry, my friend. There is no martyr's
blood in these veins. I shall stay here in Dhassa as long as I may, but only to
ensure that nothing will fall into the regents' hands that ought not."
"Including Dhassa's bishop?" Ansel said archly.
"Including Dhassa's bishop," Niallan repeated, favoring the boy with a fond
smile. "But you must remember, dear Ansel, that such title applied to my
person no longer means what it once did, now that one of the regents is our
new archbishop."
"Hubert MacInnis will never be my archbishop,'' Joram stated flatly, as he
started pacing again.
"No, nor mine," Niallan agreed. "But in the eyes of those who do not know
that his election required deception, slander, and murder, he is senior
archbishop and PrimateтАФand woe be unto the people of Gwynedd, in the
hands of such a shepherd.''
"If I'm given the chance," said Tavis O'Neill, speaking for the first time, "I
shall kill him!"
"And betray your Healer's oath?" Dom Rickart gasped, obviously putting into
words what several of the others also felt.