"The Eyes Of A God" - читать интересную книгу автора (Marco John)
'How, Lukien?" asked Cassandra. "Do you know him well?"
'Yes, my lady," said Lukien, keeping his voice low. Next to him, Figgis strained to hear. "He is a hero in L№ria. Once he was a great soldier."
'A long time ago," Akeela reminded him.
'Still, I honor him. As do most of the Chargers. He fought in the war against Norvor, and against Marn. That's where he was wounded."
Cassandra snuck a peek at Glass again, and at the peculiar way his empty sleeve dangled at his shoulder. "Remarkable."
'He is remarkable," said Lukien. "As I said, he is a hero."
'Hero," scoffed Akeela. "You are twice the hero Glass ever was, Lukien."
Lukien shook his head. "No."
'Yes," Akeela insisted. "Twice and more."
'The king is kind."
'I know something of Baron Glass," said Figgis suddenly. The old man shifted eagerly forward. "I learned about him when I was in Marn, during the war. Sir Lukien is right, my lord; he was a great soldier. And if I'm not mistaken, he served your father well."
Akeela rolled his eyes. "You are an expert on too many things, friend Figgis."
'Good," said Cassandra brightly. "Then let us change the subject. Figgis, my husband tells me you are a learned man, a great scholar."
The old librarian puffed up at the compliment. "The king does me proud to say so, my queen. But yes, I would agree with his description. I have studied many subjects all my life. Languages, the patterns of the stars, poetry." He thought for a moment. "To be true, it is hard to think of a subject that bores me."
Cassandra laughed. He was a peculiar man, but she liked the twinkle in his eyes. "And Jador," she added. "The king says you are an expert on that land."
'Ah, now you have touched on my greatest passion, my queen." Figgis' face lit up. "If anyone can be called an expert on Jador, than I suppose it is I. Since I was a boy the Jadori have fascinated me. When IЧ"
'Figgis, stop," said Akeela, smiling. "Really, the queen was just being polite."
The old man looked hurt, but soon found solace again in the food and entertainment. The knights who had taken the field were ready for the first bout. Lukien shoved his plate of pheasant away, sitting up to watch the joust. Behind him, Baron Glass told his children to take their seats as he, too, relished the coming combat.
T Ihe tournament stretched into the afternoon, as knight after knight took to the field for the honor of the king and queen and 'Lukien tells me Trager's been practicing," Akeela remarked.
'We shall see."
'Lukien will win, won't he?" asked Cassandra. "I mean, he won't be hurt, will he?"
Akeela looked at her askance, and for a moment she regretted her question.
'No," said Akeela. His eyes narrowed. "But your concern is refreshing."
Out on the field, Lukien put on his helmet. The officer of the tournament, a plump, middle-aged man, came to stand in front of the gallery and summoned the jousters. Both Lukien and Trager trotted forward, bringing their mounts to stand beside the officer, then removing their helmets as they faced the king and queen. For a moment, Lukien's eyes met Cassandra's. He seemed to wink at her reassuringly. Trager's face was furious, his jaw clamped tight.
Akeela held out both hands. In the right was a brilliant diamond. In the left, a blood red ruby. He said, "To the best shall go the diamond, and to the second the ruby. And when the tournament is done, we shall retire to the banquet rooms of Lionkeep, and dance and drink." He handed both gems over to Cassandra. "Who will win the diamond from the fair hand of the queen?"
Lukien said, "I think we know the answer to that, my lord."
The gallery laughed, as did the rest of the crowd. Cassandra saw Trager's face twitch, and for a moment she pitied him.
'Sir Trager, good fortune to you," she said. Then she looked at Lukien. "And to you, my champion."
'I will make you proud, my queen," said Lukien.
'Then to your stations," ordered the officer. He watched as both men bowed to the gallery, replaced their helms, and rode back to their positions on the opposite ends of the field. Lukien's page offered him a lance, which the Bronze Knight tested for balance before tucking beneath his arm. Across the field, Trager did the same. The pages fell away. The combatant's horses the ladies in the audience. There were jousts and archery exhibitions, feats of swordplay and horsemanship, and Cassandra watched it all with disinterest, feeling queasy and exhausted. Then, finally, it was time for Lukien to fight.
The Bronze Knight had left the gallery an hour earlier, to prepare for his bout. Now he was at one end of the parade ground, sitting atop his charger with his helmet in the crook of his arm. He was splendid in his bronze armor. The horse he rode shared the same bronze outfitting, protected with layers of metal along its breast and flanks and bearing an ominously forged headpiece. A page stood beside him, lance in hand. Akeela had explained that the lance was dulled and tipped with a protective headЧa coronal, he'd called it. Lukien reached for the lance and inspected it, then looked over the other weapons arrayed nearby. A mace awaited its use, as did a broadsword. Another page held Lukien's shield, emblazoned with the crest of L№ria. Lukien nodded to the boys, then looked across the field at his opponent. There sat Trager, his head hidden beneath his dark helmet, the reins of his stallion held tightly in gray gauntlets. Unlike Lukien, Trager wore the traditional silver armor of the Royal Chargers. His helmet bore the likeness of a ram's head, replete with curling horns.
'I think neither of them cares for the other," said Cassandra absently. She remembered Lukien's rage when Tomas had died, and how he had called Trager a fool. The lieutenant's face had twisted horribly at the insult. Cassandra was sure he wore the same expression now under his dark mask. Her heart raced with worry. Akeela took her hand, surprised to find it trembling.
'My lady, you're shivering," he said.
Cassandra frowned. "It is a barbaric sport, and I hate it," she said. "Look at them, one just as eager to kill the other. I can't watch this."
Akeela laughed. "Ah, but it is sport, as you say. And it's what these people have come to seeЧa spectacle. Look, see how they watch?"
The hush over the crowd was remarkable. Everyone waited for the outcome of the duel, which Trager had boasted he would win.
burying his lance in Trager's shield. Trager rose off his horse and tumbled backward, crashing into the ground. The crowd cheered. Without thinking, Cassandra jumped from her seat and joined them.
Lukien quickly brought his horse around and hovered over Trager. The lieutenant rose unsteadily to his feet.
'Well?" Lukien asked. "Are you injured?"
'Sword!" Trager cried, answering the knight's question. A page hurried onto the field and tossed Trager his broadsword. Lukien laughed.
'Yield, Trager," he said. He raised his lance toward Trager's chest. "You've already lost."
'No!" Trager swiped at the lance with his sword. "Come down and fight me!"
Lukien brought his horse forward, pushing the lance into Trager and knocking him over. Again the crowd crowed. Trager scurried backward in the dirt, trying get up, but each time he did Lukien's horse took another step forward, pushing him back down.
'It is done!" cried the officer of arms. "Lukien has won."
Still on her feet, Cassandra applauded loudly. Akeela joined her, as did the others in the gallery. Lukien dropped down from his horse and stood over Trager, then offered out his hand.
'Are you all right?"
'Get away from me!" spat Trager. His pages rushed out, helping him to his feet. When he finally righted himself, he snapped up the visor of his helm and glared at Lukien. All around them the crowds were clapping, but not for Trager.
'Both of you, come here," called Akeela. He turned to Cassandra. "My lady, I think you have something for our knights."
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