"Boreal Moon - 02 - Ironcrown Moon" - читать интересную книгу автора (May Julian)

УThank you, sireЧdearest husband.Ф Risalla spoke with every evidence of humble diffidence before adding in a drier tone, УAfter all, itТs not as though the dancing could begin without us. And Conjure-Queen Ullanoth is a very patient womanЕ or so IТve heard.Ф
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Conrig Wincantor, Sovereign of High Blenholme, stood with his wife outside the closed door to the royal nursery. A look of contained chagrin stiffened his features. Shrieks of childish laughter, furious shouts from an adult female, and the sounds of smashing crockery were audible through the thick oaken planking. The household knights of the royal escort kept straight faces with difficulty, while the two palace guards on duty in the corridor came to attention and smote their polished cuirasses in salute.
Inside the nursery, there was a jarring thud and someone began to scream hysterically. A shrill voice cried, УIТll catch him!Ф
УOh, my,Ф Queen Risalla murmured, with a sidelong glance at the king.
Conrig scowled and addressed the senior door guard. УWhat the devil is going on in there, Sergeant Mendos?Ф
УI Сspect itТs the monkey, Your Grace,Ф said the guardsman, his countenance wooden. УLittle Prince Bramlow commanded that it join them for supper. Viscountess TariaТs abed today with a megrim and the younger ladies and the nursemaids havenТt a lick oТ sense among the lot of Сem, so they agreed. Silly wenches thought itТd be fun to see the wee beast sit down at table with the royal lads. Cheer Тem up, like, since they couldnТt attend the festival, I said it was a bad ideaЧФ
УBazekoyТs Bones!Ф growled the king. УWhereТs the creatureТs keeper?Ф
УGone away, sire. The young ladies made him leave. He didnТt want to let the monkey off its chain, yТsee, and Their Graces insisted.Ф
УFetch the stupid cullion,Ф Conrig snapped. УIТll teach him to tend to his duty!Ф He hauled the door open and entered the nursery, followed by the queen. The knights of the royal escort tactfully remained in the corridor.
The large suite of rooms housing the royal children was illuminated by mellow twilight entering through open casement windows. On a food-splattered but otherwise empty table in the center of the supper area stood a sturdy boy some four years of age: Prince Bramlow, the oldest son of Conrig and Risalla. He was barefoot, wearing a red nightrobe as befitted an acolyte of Zeth, and held a bunched tablecloth in his hands as he stared keenly up at the unlit iron chandelier overhead.
A monkey the size of a large house cat sat on one of the candle arms. It clutched a bowl of strawberries and chittered with evil glee as it pelted the human inhabitants of the room with well-aimed pieces of fruit. The floor around the table was littered with capsized furniture, broken plates, cups, spoons, and scattered cushionsЧall commingled in a soggy mass of spilt porridge, slices of bread, mashed berries, and a pool of milk spreading from a cracked pitcher.
Two very young ladies-in-waiting huddled together behind a wooden settle, weeping, their fine clothes rumpled and splashed with berry juice. A third noblewoman, somewhat older, stood with her back to the far wall. The giggling two-year-old boy struggling in her arms was Prince Heritor Orrion, who seemed to be in good health. His twin brother Corodon jumped up and down and squealed with laughter. A pair of nursemaids approached the table, glaring up at the monkey. One maid brandished a broom and the other held a clothes basket at the ready.
УHere goes!Ф Bramlow cried out to them, shaking the tablecloth he held. The piece of fabric billowed, soared from his hands like a living thing, and wrapped itself neatly about the simian vandal, who tumbled into the waiting basket with a muffled howl. The two younger princes clapped their hands and cheered. Bramlow hopped off the table, bowed formally to the king and queen, and stood there grinning as the triumphant nursemaids carried the struggling captive out of the room. The unencumbered ladies-in-waiting made deep curtseys and waited, their faces now full of dread. The woman holding Prince Orrion set him on his feet at a gesture from the queen.
Risalla said, УNalise, Erminy, Vedrea, you may leave us. Wait outside until youТre summoned.Ф The ladies fled, closing the door behind them, and the queen regarded her sons with a sad expression. УYou children have been very wicked.Ф
УYes, Mama,Ф the three of them chorused. The younger boys looked frightened and stood close together, hand in hand. They were not identical: Prince Heritor Orrion was slightly smaller than his twin brother, plain-featured and sandy-haired like Bramlow, while Corodon had his fatherТs striking good looks and hair so fair it shone like silver.
УWicked,Ф Conrig repeated in a terrible soft voice. УBut especially you, Bramlow. And you know why.Ф
The older boy lifted his chin. УYes, sire. It was bad to use talent to catch the monkey. ButЧФ
УOnly an ordained Brother of Zeth, dedicated to the service of the realm and pledged to harm no human person, may use overt forms of windtalent. A child who uses overt talent for vain or silly reasons commits a serious sin.Ф ConrigТs voice deepened and Bramlow winced. УA royal child who dares to exhibit overt talent in front of others, reminding them that one of our ancestors tainted the blood by mating with a nonhuman, comes very close to committing treason. Even though youТre still too young to go to Zeth Abbey and begin your arcane studies, you are old enough to know right from wrong in this important matter.Ф
The boy dropped to his knees on the dirty floor. УIТm sorry, sire. Really, really sorry.Ф
УYou will be punished, Bramlow. For one week, youТll remain alone in your room, with only bread and milk to eat. A novice Brother will guard you. You are forbidden to windspeak Uncle Stergos or any other talented person, neither may you scry or perform any of the other kinds of subtle magic that are usually allowed to you. The watching Brother will know if you disobey.Ф
УIЧI promise IТll be good.Ф Tears gleamed on the four-year-oldТs face. УPlease donТt punish the monkey!Ф
УThe animal will be confined to its cage for a sennight,Ф said the king, Уand its keeper will receive a sound thrashing. Keep in mind that it is your fault that they suffer. Now retire to your room and pray for forgiveness until the midnight sun touches the horizon. Then go to bed.Ф
УYes, sire.Ф Bramlow rose up, bowed, and trudged away into an inner chamber.
When he was gone the queen spoke to the twins. УIt was very wrong of you to ask the ladies to bring in the monkey without its chain and collar. A monkey isnТt a person. It canТt be trusted to behave. Do you understand this now?Ф
Corodon smiled slyly. УBram said it be great fun. It was!Ф
УBut wrong.Ф OrrionТs face was solemn. УWe sorry, Mama.Ф
Queen Risalla gathered the boys to her, kissing them. УHow do you feel today? Do you still cough and sniffle?Ф
УNo, Mama. All well now.Ф Corodon beamed.
And did you eat supper before the monkey spoiled the food?У
УSome porridge,Ф Orrion mumbled.
УMonkey took strawberries,Ф Corodon said. УWe didnТt get none.Ф
УDidnТt get anyФ the queen corrected him. She rose to her feet. УThe ladies will make you milksops to eat in bed. No strawberries for you tonight. That will be your punishment. Now bid your father good night.Ф
Conrig lifted and embraced each boy gravely, looking deeply into their eyes before kissing them. The infinitesimal glint of talent was imperceptible to him, as it was to the Zeth Brethren and every other adept save Conjure-Queen Ullanoth and possibly SnudgeЧwhoТd never said a word about it, curse him!
Talent. That blessing and curse was present in all three of his offspring. But Risalla was once again with child, and if God pleased, Conrig would know tonight if the unborn was a normal-minded heir and the Sovereignty secure.
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Much later, as the time of UllanothТs visitation approached, Conrig and Risalla waited in the kingТs private sitting room in the royal apartments. The draperies were drawn against the still-bright sky, but open casements admitted both cool air and the sounds of laughter and dance music rising from the gardens. Risalla had changed into a summer nightrobe of fine primrose-colored lawn and reclined on a cushioned couch. The hypnagogic draft prepared by Vra-Stergos, which she had swallowed only a few minutes earlier, was already making her drowsy.
УI still donТt see why this examination is necessary.Ф The queen did not bother to hide her resentment. УYou required no such thing of me when I was pregnant with the other children.Ф
УUllanoth has fashioned a new spell,Ф Conrig prevaricated. УIt will not only tell us the sex of our new child, but also whether or not it has talent.Ф
УTalent!Ф RТisallaТs tone was uncommonly peevish as she drifted between wakefulness and sleep and her usual invincible self-control dissolved. УWhat does it matter if this babe shares poor BramlowТs arcane abilities? You have your precious heir to the throne in Orrion, and there is always Coro in caseЕ in caseЕФ Her eyes closed, but she gave a start and was wide awake again. УIn case of misfortuneЧmay heaven forfend, I donТt see why I must sleep during this procedure, either. Why shouldnТt I know what Ullanoth does to me and to the child in my womb? I hate the notion of her casting a spell on us! I hate her, God forgive me, though I truly know not why.Ф
Her vehemence startled Conrig. He was fairly certain that she was unaware of the long-standing liaison between him and the sorceress, and the queenТs temperament was ordinarily so coolly dutiful and tranquil that she seemed as incapable of jealousy as she was of sexual passion. In contrast to his mercurial first wife Maudrayne Northkeep, whom Conrig had adored until he came to believe that she could not give him children, Risalla Mallburn kept close custody of her emotions. It had never occurred to him to ask if she loved him; he deemed it sufficient that she was gently mannered, reasonably attractive, intelligent, fertile, and a princess royal of CathraТs traditional antagonist, the vassal nation of Didion.
УThe Conjure-Queen will do nothing to outrage your dignity,Ф Conrig reassured her. УShe will only look at the child in a special way, without even touching you.Ф
УI still hate being in her power. Helpless.Ф
УPerhaps itТs your Didionite heritage that makes you uneasy. You have a natural distrust of magic, owing to your peopleТs hostility to the sorcerers of neighboring Moss. And itТs only natural that you should still resent UllanothТs role in DidionТsЕ submission to the Sovereignty.Ф
УOur defeat!Ф Risalla sighed and her eyes slowly closed again. УTo say nothing of the shame that most of our warriors died not in honest battle, but as the prey of bloodsucking tiny monsters, commanded by your good friend, the Conjure-Queen. All Didion knows that she invoked the Beaconfolk as well as the spunkies to ensure your victory. And so do many of your own nobles, here in Cathra. They believe you are in league with the Lights.Ф
УMadam, you donТt know what youТre saying.Ф He tried to speak calmlyЧ for, after all, she was hardly conscious and Gossy had assured him that she would remember none of this tomorrow. Yet he had no doubt that Risalla spoke now from deep conviction, freed by the alchymical potion from the constraint of prudence that usually governed her tongue. It was no surprise to Conrig that the barbarous Didionites should believe him to be in thrall to Beaconfolk magic. But if it were true that his own people gave serious credence to the notionЕ
УWho among the Cathran nobility has spoken so perfidiously?Ф he asked her. But she only turned away and seemed to sleep.
There came a sound of hesitant knocking. The king rose from beside his wifeТs couch and opened the door. The corridor was empty except for his elder brother Stergos, the Royal Alchymist, attired in splendid crimson vestments in honor of the festival. Although he was five years ConrigТs senior, he appeared to be much younger, with a clean-shaven round face and curly blond hair that always seemed slightly disordered. Tonight he was obviously ill at ease and his brow was dewed with perspiration.
Stergos whispered, УAllТs well with Her Grace?Ф
Conrig nodded and the alchymist came quickly into the apartment, closing and locking the door behind him. УI bespoke Ullanoth in Royal Fenguard castle not ten minutes ago. She can ascertain nothing through her ordinary scrying, but if the unborn possesses talent, she will be able to Send to it as she does to you and me. First, let me make certain that your lady sleeps.Ф With great care, Stergos lifted one of the queenТs eyelids. The iris with its dilated pupil had rolled upward. УGood. Now we must distance ourselves from Risalla if the experiment is to work. LetТs go into the queenТs sitting room.Ф