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

УSmall chance of that, I fear, even with the lugsail up. And these gathering clouds are a sure harbinger of more rain. Nevertheless, I suggest you all bed down atop the deckhouse, amidst our baggage and horse tack. ItТs certainly the cleanest place aboard, and you can cover yourselves with squares of canvas from our camping supplies. I doubt youТd enjoy sleeping in this cabin with the crew members not on watch. TheyТre even more aromatic than the boat, and I flicked a flea off myself not long ago. Just take care not to roll off the roof and fall into the lake. Some of the black eels living in these waters weigh more than twelve stone. They donТt hesitate to attack full-grown elk wading in the shallows, and you can imagine what they might do to a floundering man.Ф
He left the deckhouse, laughing softly.
Not long afterwards, the Brothers unpacked food for a cold supper and the wine began its first round. Garon held the bottle out to Raldo. УYou look a bit pale, Brother. A good swig of this will perk you up.Ф
УNo, thank you,Ф the fat man whispered. УIТm not feeling at all well, and red wines give me a headache. I think IТll light a fire in the stove and brew up a pot of mint tea instead.Ф
УAll the more for the rest of us,Ф Niavar said, seizing the bottle. УCheers!Ф
==========
УSource! Respond to Ansel.Ф
IТm here, dear soul.
УHow is sheЧour poor Dobnelu? Is her physical body still viable?Ф
It may take more time for me to ascertain that, but I have high hopes. The bone and gristle parts of her throat were not crushed as she was throttled, nor were the great blood vessels in her neck irreparably damaged. She died gentlyЧ not that this is a good thing, for it means that she teetered on the brink even before the boy Vorgo touched her. It may be possible to coax life force back into this material shell, but whether her soul can safely lodge there is quite another matter.
УI seeЕ Perhaps you already know that IТve recovered Maudrayne and her son, along with the maidservant.Ф
Yes, I oversaw her for a short time. Did the princess confide her secrets to anyone at Northkeep?
УIТm not sure. She and the others remain in an enchanted sleep in the back of my wagon. I may have to keep them unconscious for some days, at least until we cross Gold River and reach the land between the volcanos, and thereТs no chance of their trying to escape. Liscanor put out to sea in his frigate and is heading south. ItТs possible Maude told her brother everything, but I think it more likely that she didnТt.Ф
Soul, this hope may be a vain one.
УI scried the people in Northkeep Castle and read their lips. LiscanorТs wife and her servants believe that young Dyfrig is the maidservantТs child. ThatТs one secret safeЧand Maude would hardly reveal ConrigТs talent without also revealing his son and heir. I think all we need worry about at the moment is keeping MaudeТs location unverified. Thanks to my threats to the wind-voices in the area, what news there is wonТt spread from Northkeep for at least ten days. Liscanor himself is another matter. Once he reaches the Tarnian capital, heТll tell the Council of Sealords that his sister is alive. Whether they believe him is problematical. IТll try to sow doubts in their minds.Ф
Can you reach a suitable hiding place before too long?
УIТm considering three possibilities. Which one I choose depends upon factors still beyond my control. But be easy, Source. No one save Conjure-Queen Ullanoth has the power to scry me on this journey, and she is mortally ill and unable to use her Great Stone. Even if it becomes generally known that Maude lives, the fact matters little if no one can find her.Ф

ten
Waterfowl filled the salt marsh with their cries, and Beynor found himself unable to sleep, so he spent much of the undark night wind-searching. He had no luck finding Kilian, which made him wonder whether the alchymistТs lost talent might somehow have been restored. After a few hours he abandoned that effort and turned his attention to the two thieves, methodically scrying the villages along the eastern shore of Elk Lake, since only fools or lunatics would have risked travel on the Great North Road, and KilianТs agents presumably were neither.
In time, he noticed the hue and cry going on in the vicinity of Pikeport and gave the place special scrutiny. Even so, he almost missed his quarry, who were dossed down on the village ferry dock together with a number of other sleeping travelers too frugal to take rooms for the night.
Something about the snoring knot of people seemed odd, yet Beynor felt disinclined to study them more closelyЧa fact that finally rang alarm bells in his head. He forced himself to intensify his oversight and finally detected the unusual spell of couverture. After some hard work, he unraveled it to his satisfaction.
There they lay, Scarth and Felmar, dressed as a countryman and his pregnant wife, sleeping like well-fed babes with their heads pillowed on a pack that might hold DarasiloТs Trove. Felmar looked rather peculiar because his linen coif was twisted awryЧand so was the wig beneath it.
Beynor had to admit that the magic obscuring the scapegrace Brethren had been most cleverly wrought. There was none of the fuzziness that often betrayed the presence of cover spells, only a subtle hint of distortion that was easy to miss. It had to be KilianТs work. None of the other Zeth Abbey alchymists possessed such expertise, which would have done credit to a member of MossТs Glaumerie Guild. Cathran adepts were rather good windspeakers; but most of them were mediocre at best in the arcane arts of visualization and couverture, except for Kilian.
And one otherЕ
Beynor very nearly cursed aloud as a long-forgotten name flashed into his memory: Deveron Austrey! He might be able to locate this well-concealed pair of thieves, just as heТd managed to track down and slay BeynorТs wizard-spy Iscannon a few years earlier. In addition, King ConrigТs wild-talented intelligencer was as unscriable as the moonstone sigils themselves. His total spectrum of arcane abilities was a mysteryЧapparently even to himself. One might almost suspect him of having Tarnian blood.
Beynor wondered why Austrey should pop suddenly into his mind unbidden. Was it a forewarning that the wretch was about to meddle in his affairs again?
Deveron Austrey had dared to steal BeynorТs own Concealer sigil from Iscannon. He had somehow penetrated KilianТs inner sanctum while he was still Royal Alchymist of Cathra and had taken one of the three ancient books having moonstone disks fixed to their covers. HeТd resisted BeynorТs dream-threats and refused to turn over Concealer and the book to Salka couriers sent to retrieve them. The book had been taken away by Ansel Piken to some unknown place, but not before the shaman had helped Deveron Austrey use its medallion to empower ConcealerЧwith consequences that had proved disastrous to BeynorТs former allies in Didion.
It seemed certain to Beynor that King Conrig would send his intelligencer after the men who had stolen DarasiloТs Trove. Deveron could be closing in on Felmar and Scarth even as Beynor oversaw them. Was there some way to alert the pair, to get them out of harmТs way?
Reluctantly, Beynor decided that there was nothing useful he could do. Knowing their names and faces, he was now in a position to invade the thievesТ dreams, even if he couldnТt windspeak them directly without the necessary password. But if he suggested that they alter their chosen route to avoid Deveron Austrey, the Brothers would suspect a trick. Kilian had seen to that.
No, Felmar and ScarthТs best chance to evade capture was to get aboard a boatЧas they obviously intended to doЧand then flee over the Sinistral Range into Didion. The mountainous country at the head of Elk Lake was the worst sort of terrain for scrying, which tended to be inhibited by massive barriers of rock. HeТd have to keep a close watch on the pair from now on. Once they were well into the highlands, theyТd be almost impossible for any wind-searcher to findЧincluding Beynor himself.
On the other hand, his plan for injecting a fatal temptation into their sleeping minds remained perfectly feasible. They must already be extremely curious about the nature of their arcane booty, since Kilian would never have dared tell them the truth about the things theyТd stolen. They were thus predisposed to yield to his urging. It would be best if he began planting the impulse immediately, making it more imperative each time the fugitives closed their eyes. HeТd compel them to do it just as soon as they reached a resting place that was suitably remote.
With luck, both of the thieves would succumb to his inducement and perish without a trace, leaving DarasiloТs Trove for him to retrieve at his leisure.
==========
Raldo dozed uneasily on the deckhouse roof. His corpulent body was unable to find a comfortable recumbent position on the planks, so he slept sitting up, propped against a heap of saddlebags, a piece of tent canvas fending off most of the warm drizzle. KilianТs half-jocular warning about rolling off was unnecessary, since the roof had a low railing around it. All the same, Raldo chose a sleeping spot well away from the edge.
So when the first noisy splash woke him, he didnТt immediately realize what had happened.
The twilit sky of early morning was covered by low rain-clouds that had swallowed the jagged tops of the mountains. Their looming expanse was black and featureless, seeming to close ominously around the lake like a great wall now that the boat approached the narrowing northern end. Overhead, the much-patched sail was filled by a moderate breeze. Raldo looked about with his befogged vision but saw only the shapes of his companions scattered among the baggage. They were all sleeping deeply, not even snoring.
A soft sound of footsteps came from the main-deck below. Horses snorted, whiffled, and stamped their hooves uneasily. Then there was a second splash.
Raldo lifted the canvas away and looked astern, squinting in the half-light. He saw the boatТs wake, partially obscured by the bellying sail. In the midst of the foam was a dark object resembling a piece of driftwood with twigs at one end. The object moved, extending itself up from the water before slowly sinking from sight.
Not driftwood. An arm, with fingers.
Another splash, this time on the opposite side of the boat. Raldo waited, and another black shape bobbed in the wake until it was lost to sight.
The fat man felt his skin crawl. His Brethren slept on. He wormed his way further aft so that he could peer down onto the deck where the horses were tied. The cockpit in the stern was empty and the tiller lashed tight with a length of rope to keep the rudder steady.
A noise, directly below him. Someone was emerging from the deckhouse. Raldo held his breath as the indistinct form of a naked man appeared. He was obscured by what was evidently a weak cover spell, dragging an inert body that had dark-stained clothing. The man heaved his burden over the side, then returned to the deckhouse. Moments later, he reappeared with another limp form and disposed of it, leaving obvious bloodstains on the rail.
God save me, Raldo prayed, heТs murdered the crew! There must have been something in the bottle of wine that rendered them senseless. By chance, he was the only one who didnТt drink any.
What will I do if he comes up here on the deckhouse roof?
Raldo saw the blurry naked man go to the boatТs waterbutt and pour several full dippers over his besmeared body. After washing himself thoroughly, he used a bucket to slosh more water over certain areas of the deck and the rail. Murky liquid disappeared into the scuppers. Then the man sluiced out the deckhouse as well. When he finished he went to the stern, dried himself with a rag, and donned clothing that lay neatly folded on the stern thwart. Bending over the tiller, he removed the line that had secured it and settled down to correct the boatТs course. His identity was still hidden by magic.
But Raldo knew that only one person among them was capable of weaving a cover spell. KilianТs natural talents had yet to regain their full strength, but they were adequate to cloud his bodily form while he went about his pernicious work.
The fat man shrank back from the edge of the deckhouse roof, too petrified to move further. It seemed that he and the other Brothers were going to liveЧat least for a while longerЧand he thought he knew why. If their pursuers caught up with them during the flight over the mountains, Kilian would require the combined magical abilities of all his companions to defend himself. Later, when the alchymist joined Prince Somarus and his band of warriors in Didion, the BrothersТ pitiful portions of talent would no longer be neededЕ
Raldo lay with his face pressed against the wet boards, tasting bile in his throat and feeling tears mingle with the soft rain trickling down his cheeks. His iron gammadion and its chain, which heТd hidden in his jerkin pocket and forgotten to toss overboard, pressed uncomfortably against his hip.
What am I going to do? he asked himself. But he could think of nothing except the giant black eels of Elk Lake, and what they were feeding upon this early morning.