"Mercedes Lackey - Brightly Burning" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lackey Mercedes)

he said, though, and Lan followed his father out the front door and onto the street.
They walked side-by-side, not talking. Lan was very much conscious of how much taller his
father was than he, though they were both alike in their loose-jointed frames, reddish-brown wavy hair,
and elongated faces. Macy, LanтАЩs sister, took after Nelda, she was pretty rather than beautiful, and
square-jawed like her father. And NeldaтАЩs features were masculinized in Sam, to a much better effect.
But all three of ArcherтАЩs sons resembled their father to a greater or lesser degree, at least externally. Lan
couldnтАЩt get over the idea that his father was disappointed in his short stature and turned his eyes
selfconsciously away.
It was earlier than Lan was usually about, but there were plenty of people on the street, most
walking in the direction of the manufacturing and trade quarters. There was a general buzz of noise in the
background that never stopped until well after sundown. It was one of the many things Lan hated about
the city, and after several weeks he still wasnтАЩt used to it. The cool, still air had nothing in the way of what
Lan would have called a scent; most of the autumn flowers growing in and around the houses were
scentless, purely decorative. Fallen leaves got swept up immediately by servants, and there wasnтАЩt so
much as a single weed or blade of grass to be seen. So there werenтАЩt any of the aromas that Lan
associated with fall.
The street was paved with cobblestones; the doorsteps were slabs of stone, and the cobbles
went right up to the bases of the houses, for even the fenced front yards were, for the most part, paved
over. The town houses themselves were statements of the inhabitantsтАЩ wealth, with a great deal of
attention paid to the street facade. Some were of stone, like a great manor in the country, roofed with
slate and ornamented with fantastical animal-shaped spouts at the corner of each gutter. Others were
brick, with the brick laid in ornamental patterns, and the roof laid in an imitation of thatch. There were no
thatched roofs in this quarter; with the houses so close together, thatch would have been a terrible fire
hazard. There were homes with huge, heavy black beams and white plaster between, the plaster painted
with fanciful designs. There were wooden manses roofed with tile, and there was even one wooden
house completely covered in lacy carvings.
This was nothing at all like Alderscroft, where most of the houses were modest thatched
cottages, where there was plenty of room between each house, where everyone had flowers growing at
the foundations and little gravel paths led from each cottage, through patchwork gardens, to the fences
and gates letting onto the dirt street.
The houses back home were warm and welcoming, giving glimpses of the personality of the
people inside. These houses gave away nothing, offering a blank-eyed stare to the passersby, aloof and
proud as a wealthy matron.
ItтАЩs as much as if theyтАЩre all saying, тАЬIтАЩm rich. DonтАЩt you wish you were?тАЭ and nothing else.
The occasional horse or donkey and cart came along the street-more merchants, who had farther
to go than just a few streets, and preferred not to walk. And once or twice a Guardsman patrolling the
neighborhood on horseback paced past them. Lan stared longingly after them, wishing that he could be
wearing that uniform, not plodding along beside his father.
They left the street that dead-ended on their own court and traveled eastward, away from the
center of town but toward more of the same sort of houses. There were occasional stores here, or rather,
тАЬdiscreet business establishments,тАЭ mostly dressmakers, milliners, and the like. From the street, except
for a gown or a hat prominently on display in a window, it wouldnтАЩt be possible to tell these places from
an ordinary house.
Archer wasnтАЩt disposed to conversation, but finally he made an effort. тАЬYouтАЩll be getting in with
some lads your age, then,тАЭ he said heavily. тАЬMore like back at the village.тАЭ
Lan couldnтАЩt imagine a situation less like home, but he murmured, тАЬThat would be good.тАЭ
тАЬAye.тАЭ That sentence seemed to exhaust ArcherтАЩs store of conversation, and the rest of the walk
continued in silence.
There was a much larger building on the right side of the street they were on, one that towered
over its already impressive neighbors and was enclosed by a high wall. Where the town houses were two