"Elizabeth Lynn - Chronicles of Tornor 2 - The Dancers of Arun" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lynn Elizabeth A)

Stubbornly he banished it. He would be a scribe, not a
scholar, and keep the records when Josen could no longer see to keep
them. He turned the tallies so that the signs all faced out. They
were marked with the ancient signs: a sickle for grain, a horn for
goats, a triple slash (signifying the three spikelets of the ear) for
barley. The middle slash was longest. Picking up his pen, he drew a
line down the center of the page. The familiar work absorbed him. The
trouble smoothed from his face, and the ache drained from his stump.
****
When the ink began to spatter on the page, he halted. He
grimaced at the botched sheet with annoyance. It would all have to be
done again. He checked the tip of the quill. As he thought, it needed
trimming. Laying it down, he stretched his cramped fingers. The room
was very light. On the wall opposite him, the tapestry's gold
threadwork was just visible. It showed a battle scene: a man with a
gilt beard rallied his men. In the crannies of the tower, nesting
pigeons called, flapping their wings.
"Josen."
The old man's head lifted. His hair stuck out from his skull
like fine silk fringe. "Hmm?" It took a moment for his eyes to lose
their glaze.
"Take a rest. My quill needs mending."
The scholar looked at the page he'd been copying. Gently he
rolled it up again. He had started with the newest scrolls and was
slowly working backwards. Some of the oldest records were so brittle
that they fell apart to the touch. "Hmm." He picked up the quill
Kerris had been using and looked at the splayed end. "You need a new
quill entirely," he commented. He riffled the feathers. "Still, a
rest is a good idea." He rose from the chair. "Let's take a walk on
the wall to stretch our legs."
Like the other Keeps on the northern border, Tornor Keep had
been built to withstand attack. It had two walls around it, one
inside the other. They were toothy, smoothfaced, and formidable.
Inside the inner wall were the buildings of the Keep: the hall, the
barracks, the stables and storerooms, the Yard, the smithy and the
apartments. The top of it was a stone walkway with room for three men
to walk abreast. The outer wall was lower than the inner wall, but it
too had a walkway and it was equally thick and crenellated. Both
walls were broken, at regular intervals, by arrow slits.
The watchtower rose from the southwest corner of the inner
wall. Originally it had had only one entrance: the door in the inner
ward at the base of the stair. But during the rule of the Lady Sorren
a second door, leading to the rampart, had been added. In sunlight or
strong torchlight the stone of the arch glittered with mica flecks,
and it was evident that the doorway had been built at a later time
than either the wall or the stair.
The guard on the stairway lifted a hand as they walked beneath
the arch. "Hey, Kerris."
"Tryg." Kerris smiled. Tryg was the son of Ousel's watch
second. He was lithe and broad and he wore his hair in the old way,