"R. A. MacAvoy - Damiano" - читать интересную книгу автора (MacAvoy R A)

shutters, drawn. The street below, too, was empty,
totally empty. Not a man or a woman, not an ox wagon
or a wandering ass to be seen. The town didn't even
smell right, he thought as he inhaled deeply through
his nose. It didn't stink of urine, peppers, pigs, sheep,
men's or horses' sweatтАФnone of the comfortable smells
that meant home to him. The streets smelled burnt,
like the air surrounding a forge. He lifted his eyes to
the distant fields and forests beyond the town wall,
which faded from brown to gray to blue in the November
air. Damiano squintedтАФhis far vision was not the best.
Out of habit he reached back along the wall, his hand
scrambling over the slick tiles till he grasped his staff.
It was not the traditional witch's stick, not being
brown, branchy, or picturesquely gnarled. Damiano's
staff was ebony and lathe-straight, ringed in three
places with silver. Knobbing the top was a silver crest
set with five topazes and a rather small ruby (red and
gold being the Delstrego colors). It had been given to
Damiano by his father when the boy was twelveтАФhe
then stood only as high as the second silver band.
Now, nine years later, the staff was still a bit taller than
he was, for Damiano had not grown to Delstrego's
expectation.
The staff was as important to Damiano as crutches
were to a lame man, though young Damiano had two
limber and useful legs. It was his spelling-instrument,
and upon its black length he worked with more facility
than he did on the lute. Also, although he had never
worked a spell toward the purpose, Damiano believed
he could see better holding the staff. He held it now.
"The wall belongs to a man named Francesco
Alusto," answered the angel, his quiet voice cutting
easily through the stone wall to Damiano's ears. Damiano
weaseled back into the room, his cheeks flushed, his
eyes bright with worry.
"Alusto? He owns the vineyards, such as they are.
But why? What will they do when they get in? Isn't it
enough that they control the town?"
There was an indefinable reproach in the angel's
eyes. "Why? Because Alusto became a wealthy man
under Savoy patronage. Although his being a wealthy
man might be enough. What will they do? Damiano!
They will rape and kill, take what they can carry or
haul, and then march away. Perhaps they will burn the
place as they go.
"But I am not here to instruct you in the customs
of warтАФthat would be a bad education, I think, and
more easily gotten elsewhere." He spoke without heat,
yet Damiano dropped his eyes to the pattern of the