"Mercedes Lackey - Firebird" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lackey Mercedes)

living. Mischa was actually shorter than his father, a bit stockier, a bit broader. The
next, Gregori, was probably the closest copy of the way Ivan had looked as a youth;
he had everything but the hard muscles of a serious warrior that Ivan had boasted,
and that was because he was lazy. Pietor, taller than either, with hair so light it was
nearly white rather than blond, and rough, blunt features, looked as stupid as he was.
Sasha was darker than Ivan; his hair was more golden-brown than straw-colored,
and his features more arrogantly aquiline, but another streak of laziness kept him
from living up to that implication of arrogance. '
Then comes me. There were no mirrors in the palace except for three tiny
hand-mirrors of polished metal that were the proudest possessions of the tsarina and
her two chief ladies, but Ilya had seen himself in the reflections of a quiet pond often
enough to know that the tsar could have no fault to find with his parentage. His hair
was more gold-colored than straw, his features a little leaner than his brothers', but
he had all of the family stamps: broad shoulders, square jaw, bright blue eyes, strong
muscles. The traits that set him apart were subtle, probably too subtle for Ivan to
noticeтАФintelligence in the eyes, a hint of good humor about the mouth, and a
stubborn set to his jaw.
Then came the younger brothers, Alexi, Boris, and Yuri. They looked alike
enough to be triplets, and only if you paid close attention could you see that there
was a year separating each of them from his sibling. They looked like slightly
brighter, slightly less muscular copies of Pietor.
Strong like bull, dumb like ox, hitch to plow when horse dies. That's my family.
You could easily see Ivan's by-blows among the servants, tooтАФhis sons'
bastards weren't old enough yet to take any serious tasks, but Ivan's own
wood's-colts served their legitimate brothers with no sign of envy. Square-built,
coarse-featured blonds abounded among the servants currently waiting on the tables,
though most of them seemed, if possible, to be even duller of wit than the legitimate
offspring. It was as if the mothers of all these children contributed nothing to their
looks, a fact that Ivan took great pride in.
 They didn't contribute anything in the way of wits either, as far as I can tell.
Then again, Father's taste runs to girls as stupid as sheep.
The only woman at the head table was Feodora, Ivan's third wife; all the rest of
the women, including Feodora's two cousins who acted as her ladies, sat at the
lower tables. All of them were in positions lower than men of the same rank. Ivan
had fixed ideas about the appropriate status of women in his household. He
considered them slightly more important than his cattle and goats, but less so than
his best breeding stallions.
Mother Galina had spoken some choice words to Ilya on that subject over the
years, although she had been very careful to keep her opinions just between the two
of them.
The hall was a noisy place at supper, with men shouting at one another in order to
be heard up and down the lengths of the tables, and it didn't get any quieter as the
evening progressed. As soon as most of the food was cleared away and there was
nothing left but fruit, strong drink, and pastry, dice cups and counters came out and
the gaming began. Someone set two of the dogs to fighting, and a betting-contest
broke out over the outcome. Yuri, Gregori, and Pietor leapt over the table to join the
fun; Sasha slouched forward onto the table with a belch.
Ilya tried not to squirm with impatience as he watched for a chance to leave. How
long until moonrise? It couldn't be too long, but he had to wait until all his brothers
and his father were sufficiently distracted before he tried to make an escape.