"Marc Laidlaw - Jane" - читать интересную книгу автора (Laidlaw Marc)

Jane by Marc Laidlaw

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The first we knew of the travelers was the tinkling of our falconтАЩs silver bell.
She landed on our FatherтАЩs glove, and he leant his whiskered cheek against her beak.
When he raised his head there was a look in his eyes I had not seen before.

He sighed and put his hand on my head and said,тАФJane, go tell your mother
we have visitors.

I walked across the wet grass to the house, and I heard him whispering to the
bird as he clipped the leash to the silver varvels in her leather jesses. He climbed the
porch and set her on her perch, and sat beside her in his rocking chair, oiling his
glove and watching the bamboo thicket through the afternoon, while I stayed inside
and played with little Anna to keep her out of motherтАЩs way.

The sun was at five fists when the travelers appeared. They stood at the edge
of the clearing, staring at the house as if they feared it, until our Father rose and
crossed the grass to greet them.

Two men and a woman. Although I studied them so closely that our Father
had to shoo me away, I never thought to ask their names nor anything else about
them. I only listened to the questions our Father asked, and to the answers they
gave, and in so doing I learned as many new things about our Father as I learned
about the visitors. I learned he had once lived in the city, which surprised me greatly
since he had never told us he knew its evils from experience. I learned he had once
been a traveler himself, with intimate knowledge of the roads he forbade us
approach. I learned he spoke languages IтАЩd never heard him speak until that night,
when the three travelers stayed and shared our supper.

I remember steaming crocks of stew; motherтАЩs dense loaves of dark bread
with cracked corn toasted into it; falcon-caught squab and squirrel, and wild pig my
brothers had brought back from that dayтАЩs hunt. I remember the glow of the lantern
light in the travelersтАЩ eyes and the loudness of their voices as they drank our FatherтАЩs
wine and then his brandy late into the night.

Somehow Anna and I were forgotten, we girls allowed to stay up and listen,
as if this were a special lesson. We knew it was rare. Even our brothers, old as they
were, had never seen visitors before. Sometimes while hunting they heard the sound
of travelers on the far-off road, but our Father always hushed them and made them
retreat in utter silence so as to betray nothing of our presence. It was for the same
reason they hunted with crossbows and never a gun. And although our Father had
once been a fine shot, he now relied completely on his falcon.

The travelers admired his falcon greatly and asked many questions as she
perched near the table with the family. They remarked on the intricate designs on her
polished silver bell and varvels, and I warmed with pride, for it was my task to keep
the little cuff rings untarnished, although the designs etched in them meant little to
me, being letters in a language I could not read. The lady traveler said the falcon was