"Mercedes Lackey & Rosemary Edghill - The Bard - 03 - Spirits " - читать интересную книгу автора (Lackey Mercedes)

Spirits White as Lightning
by Mercedes Lackey & Rosemary Edghill
ONE:
THE SIMPLE GIFTS

The Spirits White as Lightning
Would on my travels guide me

The stars would shake and the moon would quake

Whenever they espied me

тАФTom O' Bedlam (traditional)



Sir Eric Banyon, the QueenтАЩs Knight, known as Silverflute wherever soldiers of fortune gathered
together, strode manfully through the thronging crowd, determined to leave the memory of his
disgrace at the hands of the foul Frenchman Black Levoisier behind him as surely as he had left
the dastardly minions of his Great Enemy in his dust. . . .

Eric dodged around a bicycle messenger just dismounting on the sidewalk, then grinned, startling the bike
messenger into an answering smile. Heh. Banyon, mтАЩlad, you ought to go in for writing Hysterical
Historicals in your off-hours. He actually was stridingтАФthough not exactly тАЬmanfullyтАЭтАФthrough the
noontime crowd, heading for the subway and home. His classes at Juilliard were over for the day and no
rehearsals (for once!) were scheduled for this afternoon. He could practice as well, or better, at home
than in one of the practice rooms, anyway. And he was determined not to sour a perfectly good day with
the memory of one jealous teacher trying to make a fool out of him in front of the entire class. Well, all
rightтАФmaybe not the entire class. Just most of it. And anyway, Levoisier hadnтАЩt succeeded, though heтАЩd
certainly done his best.

Missing his midterm last winter (heтАЩd been off saving the world, necessary though it had been) had given
Professor Rector the chance he had been hoping for all term. HeтАЩd failed Eric, banishing him from
Introduction to Music Theory with unprofessional glee. Fortunately, EricтАЩs work in his other classes and
in ensemble had been good enough that he had been given the opportunity to make up the lost Music
Theory credit during summer term, and he had taken the chance to add a few more courses in order to
lighten next fallтАЩs course-load. Still, this hadnтАЩt quite been the way heтАЩd envisioned spending his July and
-August, which was out on Fire Island with a pitcher of virgin margaritas by his side. And Levoisier made
Ethan Rector look like a prince of transpersonal fairness by comparison.

Parisians. Feh. Paris would be such a lovely place without all the Parisians in it, Eric thought
grumpily. And the man had certainly been on form today, baiting Eric unmercifully in hopes heтАЩd lose his
temper. Once heтАЩd lost it, the professor would have taken him apart in a cool and scientific dissection
rendered without benefit of anesthetic.

Levoisier had begun with sarcastic comments about EricтАЩs depth of experienceтАФon the RenFaire circuit.
(Why did they always obsess about that? It couldnтАЩt be jealousy.) Not exactly a concert-hall
environment, as the professor had repeatedly pointed out. Nor were the customers who so praised his
playing sober . . . or necessarily bright . . . or able to distinguish Bach from Bacharach . . . or a flute from
a clarinet. Certainly even an idiot with three tunes in his repertoire could win acclaim on the RenFaire