"Boreal Moon - 02 - Ironcrown Moon" - читать интересную книгу автора (May Julian)
Snudge and his men reached Pikeport at about the seventh hour after midnight, after riding all night. They stopped at the White Waterlily, the only tavern in town, where their perfectly genuine royal warrant and demand for free horse fodder, a meal, and a quiet place to catch a few hoursТ sleep aroused the suspicions of the short-tempered landlord.
Inexplicably, he decided that the mud-splashed, well-armed strangers purporting to be kingТs men had to be in league with the masquerading firebugs who had stopped at his establishment on the previous evening, victimized him with a fake warrant, and got him in trouble with the law. A wild commotion ensued, in which breakfasting tavern patrons happily took the aggrieved landlordТs part. SnudgeТs party were forced to draw their swords and make a stand. Order was restored by the deputy reeve and the town watch only after the local windvoice bespoke Lord NorthwayТs castle and confirmed the legitimacy of those purporting to be the kingТs men.
While the still-simmering landlord had his people lay out food and see to the needs of the horses, Snudge learned from the deputy that the ferry plying between Beech River and Elktor had called at Pikeport and left over an hour earlier. More than a dozen other commercial sailboats had also embarked Сround about the same time, fishermen and transports of every sort, heading in all directions for various purposes. No persons bearing the slightest resemblance to Brothers Felmar and Scarth had been discovered yestereen in the vicinity of the village quay or anywhere in the surrounding countryside. The posse was preparing to set out again, but it seemed that the false dispatch riders had vanished without a trace, leaving only their abandoned mounts behind.
Without much hope, Snudge left his men eating a meal of scorched porridge, hard cheese, and flat beer, and retired to the grain store behind the stables. This was the only place the disgruntled landlord would let them use as sleeping quarters, but it was at least fairly quiet, while the inn itself was not.
Snudge composed himself and began to windsearch, trying to ignore his throbbing head as he closely scrutinized more than two score small boats sailing, rowing, or drifting about the southern half of Elk Lake. In the end, his debilitated talent was unable to detect anything at all, so he gratefully surrendered to sleep.
==========
Somarus Mallburn, Prince of Didion and one-time general of its armies, soaked in a steaming hot spring in a bosky dell of the Elderwold while birds sang their morning songs, squirrels romped on the moss-hung branches of the venerable trees, and his shield-bearer Kaligaskus knelt by the pool and combed his masterТs newly trimmed hair with a fine-toothed comb to banish lice and nits.
УAlmost done, Highness,Ф the lad said cheerily. УMight be a good idea to give it a rinse of turpentine, though, to make sure none of the wee devils slipped past me.Ф
УNo turpentine!Ф the prince barked. УYou can rub in a dose of delphinium tincture if you think it necessary. At least it doesnТt stink so badly.Ф
УYes, Highness.Ф The boy climbed to his feet and trotted back to camp to fetch a phial of the stuff from Tesk the wizard.
Somarus slowly submerged, closing his eyes against the slight sting of minerals in the water, and stayed under until his breath was gone. Then he rose up, inflated his lungs with sweet-smelling forest air, and let himself float. The water was less than three feet deep, but it was marvelous to lie there, warm and supported, gazing up at the leaf-framed sky, thinking about the wonderful things that mightЧjust mightЧtake place within the next few days.
Fring had warned him not to get his hopes too high. Both of them knew that Beynor of Moss was a vainglorious young blowhard, treacherous as a weasel and even more wily. But if there was any chance at all that the deposed Conjure-King could pull off the assassination of Honigalus and his heirs, Somarus would embrace him as his newfound brotherЧBeaconfolk curse and all.
For as long as it was expedient to do so.
Through Fring, Beynor had suggested that Somarus hold himself in readiness a dayТs ride from Boarsden Castle. But why not move in closer and actually witness the fateful deed himself? Fring had known none of the details, only that the killing was supposed to take place at the Big Bend of the Malle three days from now, late in the afternoon.
He could ride out with a small party from the Lady Lakes camp, using only the simplest form of disguise, reach Castlemont Fortress in a couple of days and enjoy the hospitality of his friend Lord Shogadus, complete the journey easily by traveling the Boar HighroadЧ
And stand on the south dike of the river, watching the yellow-bellied traitor die!
True, Somarus wouldnТt fulfil his greatest dream. HeТd never know the satisfaction of sinking his blade into the heart of the half brother whoТd cravenly yielded Didion to Conrig Wincantor because heТd lacked the courage to die in battle. But what the hell! All that mattered was that the throne might come to him at last.
It was another cherished dream of his, one that seemed even more impossible than the first because Honigalus had begotten two sons and a daughter, who stood ahead of him in the line of succession, along with their mother, Bryse Vandragora, who might only inherit under special and unlikely circumstances. But if Beynor actually did manage to wipe out the entire viperТs nest, then he, Somarus, would become King of Didion.
And at that same hour, he vowed, though I must keep it secret in my heart until the time ripens, will I declare war on Conrig WincantorТs Sovereignty, and dedicate my life to its destructionЕ
УHighness?Ф
He opened his eyes, let his body sink to the bottom of the pool, and knelt upright in the water. The wizard Tesk stood there in a dusty black robe, nervously licking his too-red lips and blinking shortsighted eyes that always watered in summer. He held out a little corked bottle.
УI brought the tincture myself, Highness, because IТve just received a message on the wind for you, from High Queen Risalla.Ф
Yesterday, after first hearing of BeynorТs amazing intention, the prince had sent a carefully worded inquiry to his younger sister in Gala Palace, hoping that she would find a way to side with him if he rebelled against the Sovereignty. The two of them had always been devoted to one another, being the offspring of the valiant Queen Siry Boarsden, second wife of the late King Achardus. Both royal parents had died fighting Conrig in the Battle of Holt Mallburn.
УTell me quickly what Risalla said!Ф Somarus demanded.
УDamn!Ф said Somarus. УShe was ever a mild-tempered but stubborn lass, even as a girl. Having pledged her loyalty to Conrig at her marriage, sheТll remain steadfast to him. Duty is everything to her. Do you recall how she came boldly before Conrig on the day he conquered Holt Mallburn, demanding the bodies of the king and queen for proper burial? Conrig could not withstand her. I suppose I knew how she would reply to my request, even before you gave me her message. But itТs a bitter draft to swallow.Ф
УI believe that those striving for high goals must be prepared to drain such cups rather often,Ф the wizard said sadly. УShall I apply the delphinium tincture now, Highness? You might wish to return quickly to camp. The sentries have captured a Green Man.Ф
УWhat?! Great Starry BearЧis the whole world turning upside down? How did the slippery thing let himself be taken alive by a human?Ф
УPerhaps I should have said Green Woman, Highness. As to your question, I suggest you put it to the creature yourself. SheТs asked to speak to you. Or to be more exact, she asked for an audience with King Somarus of Didion.Ф
УWell, well! FlatteringЧif a bit premature. Never mind the tincture, man. Fetch me my clothes.Ф
A light tunic and trews of fine linen had been laid out for him as undergarments, along with woolen stockings and new boots. The garb he intended to wear on the trip to civilization was still in a coffer in his pavilion. He dried his body with a homespun cloth, then dressed without assistance. Somarus was a man far more impressively built than his older brother the king, lean and hard-muscled as a result of years living in the open since his withdrawal from the court. His beard and brows were red and his long hair was a few shades lighter, like the dark gold of cloudberries. His face was weathered and high-colored, with eyes like blue flint, webbed with fine lines at the corners. He was one-and-thirty years of age.
The camp had been set up in a large forest clearing divided by a brook. The smallest of the three Lady Lakes was partially visible beyond a stand of trees downstream, sparkling in the sun. To the south, the steep rampart of the Sinistral Mountains rose with daunting abruptness from behind wooded hills, the loftiest peaks piercing a cap of white clouds. Northward lay the Elderwold, over five thousand square leagues of desolate heath, boglands, and dense primeval forest, where the ancient and beleaguered race of Green Men had retreated in a final stand against humanity.
The warrior band of Somarus, which was often augmented by men loyal to the outland robber-barons, ventured into the Elderwold only rarely. Most of their raids and skirmishes took place much further to the northwest, where they preyed on caravans of Tarnian and Cathran merchants traveling the Wold Road during the warm months of the year. During winter, they holed up in the castles of the princeТs secret sympathizers. Somarus had only lately brought his core group of men into the Lady Lakes country, after one of BeynorТs dream-visitations promised that a climactic event of surpassing importance would likely take place round about the Summer Solstice. The prince had told no one about FringТs hint of the proposed assassination, and so the captive Green WomanТs styling of him as УkingФ both puzzled and intrigued him.
The force in the camp was small but well equipped, and included not quite threescore mounted warriors, eleven landless knights, four barons who had been outlawed and stripped of their fiefs by King Honigalus for crimes against the Crown, and a flock of servants, shield-bearers, and itinerant wizards. All save the knights and nobles were accommodated in twenty tents, set up in two lines and separated by a wide aisle of trampled ground. The larger pavilions of the prince and his officers had been erected across the brook in an area of scattered trees, while the horses were picketed downstream, where abundant grass grew. This early in the morning, a multitude of cook fires sent up plumes of smoke as breakfast was prepared.
Preceded by Tesk, Prince Somarus went to the pavilion of Baron Cuva, the highest-ranking of his followers, where a murmuring crowd had gathered in a rough circle. At the wizardТs cry of УMake way!Ф the throng parted, and the prince passed through to find Cuva seated on a folding stool, a quizzical expression on his hawkish face. Three glowering wizards and two huge warriors with drawn swords stood in front of the baron, guarding a small figure.
Cuva rose as Somarus approached, offering his own seat to the prince with a gracious gesture. УHighness, a most unusual captЧuhЧvisitor has asked to see you. IТm not sure I got her name right. Was it Sithalooy Cray?Ф
УCall me Cray,Ф the Green Woman said.
The voice was surprisingly low and resonant for one who stood less than five feet tall. Her aspect was completely human, save for the vivid emerald hue of her somewhat overlarge eyes. It was impossible to tell her age. Her unlined face was deeply sun-tanned, and her neatly plaited hair was dull silver, streaked with primrose-yellow. She wore a calf-length moss-green gown having a divided skirt. Her boots were deerskin, and her hooded cloak of mingled shades of grey, brown, and black almost perfectly mimicked tree bark. A bulging purse embroidered with colored thread hung from her belt, along with a little gold-hilted dagger in a skin sheath.
As Somarus sat down on the stool and regarded her with what he hoped was appropriate aloofness, she stepped forward a few paces. One of the warriors guarding her lifted a restraining hand, but she gave a negligent wave and the gigantic man froze like a statue. Cries of consternation came from the gathering.
УLet her be,Ф Somarus said. УYou may come closer, Cray.Ф
УAre you King Somarus of Didion?Ф
He said, УNot yet.Ф
The little woman gave him a casual bob of her head and smiled. УYou will be kingЕ after the drownings.Ф
More astonished exclamations from the crowd.
УBe silent!Ф the prince said. Then to Cray: УDid you come here to tell me that?Ф
УNo. I was sent by the Source, commanded by him to accompany you on your journey to the wide river.Ф
УIs that so! Well, IТve never heard of this Source, so why should I do as he says?Ф
УBecause you want very much to be king.Ф
УAnd your Source would forestall me if I declined to obey? Or you would?Ф The questions were asked without heat.
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