"Julian May - Boreal Moon 2 - Ironcrown Moon" - читать интересную книгу автора (May Julian)

тАЬI тАШspect itтАЩs the monkey, Your Grace,тАЭ said the guardsman, his countenance wooden. тАЬLittle Prince Bramlow commanded that it join
them for supper. Viscountess TariaтАЩs abed today with a megrim and the younger ladies and the nursemaids havenтАЩt a lick oтАЩ sense among
the lot of тАШem, so they agreed. Silly wenches thought itтАЩd be fun to see the wee beast sit down at table with the royal lads. Cheer тАЩem up,

file:///K|/eMule/Incoming/May,%20Julian%20-%20[Bor...0-%20Boreal%20Moon%202%20-%20Ironcrown%20Moon.html (11 of 228)2-2-2007 18:46:18
 May, Julian - Boreal Moon 2 - Ironcrown Moon


like, since they couldnтАЩt attend the festival, I said it was a bad ideaтАФтАЭ

тАЬBazekoyтАЩs Bones!тАЭ growled the king. тАЬWhereтАЩs the creatureтАЩs keeper?тАЭ

тАЬGone away, sire. The young ladies made him leave. He didnтАЩt want to let the monkey off its chain, yтАЩsee, and Their Graces insisted.тАЭ

тАЬFetch the stupid cullion,тАЭ Conrig snapped. тАЬIтАЩll teach him to tend to his duty!тАЭ 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 cushionsтАФall 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.

тАЬHere goes!тАЭ 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, тАЬNalise, Erminy, Vedrea, you may leave us. Wait outside until youтАЩre summoned.тАЭ The ladies fled, closing the door behind
them, and the queen regarded her sons with a sad expression. тАЬYou children have been very wicked.тАЭ

тАЬYes, Mama,тАЭ 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 fatherтАЩs striking good looks and hair so fair it shone like silver.

тАЬWicked,тАЭ Conrig repeated in a terrible soft voice. тАЬBut especially you, Bramlow. And you know why.тАЭ

The older boy lifted his chin. тАЬYes, sire. It was bad to use talent to catch the monkey. ButтАФтАЭ