"Quickening - 01 - Myrren's Gift" - читать интересную книгу автора (McIntosh Fiona)
Wyl had never felt such a well of hate rise within himself Until recently he had lived life with carefree joy, had hardly known dislike for anyone. He had been surrounded by people who loved him. Now his every waking moment seemed filled with torment. Celimus baited him at every opportunity and if he was not using his cruel mouth against Wyl, then he was laying traps for him with a few of his henchmen. A day hardly passed in which the Prince did not succeed in bringing gloom to settle on WylТs shoulders. If there were not dead rats in his bed, then there were cockroaches in his drinking water, or mud in his boots. His food was tampered with and his training clothes hidden. Childish and pointless it all was and yet it wore Wyl down, nibbling at his resolve to follow in his fatherТs footsteps.
УWyl Thirsk?Ф
A page had arrived.
УOver here.Ф Gueryn replied, nodding toward his despondent charge and grateful for the interruption.
The messenger addressed Wyl. УYouТre wanted in the KingТs chambers. General.Ф he said politely. УImmediately, sir.Ф
Wyl looked up at the still-grinning Prince and bowed. УWith your permission, your highness, IТll take my leave,Ф he said, carefully observing the correct protocol.
Celimus nodded, his silky lashes blinking once over olive eyes that missed nothing. Everything about Celimus was beautiful. Even at fifteen, when most of the boys were still struggling to fit into their awkward bodies, his looked as though it was sculpted from pure, smooth marble. Muscled and polished, there was not a blemish on it.
In looks, Celimus represented to Wyl everything he personally was not and that realization was painful for a boy born to lead men. Celimus was tall with wide, square shoulders. His hands were large but deft and he carried himself with grace; even his swordplay was elegant and highly skilled. His features were independently arresting but together they formed a face that was destined to turn heads. Manhood was still to settle on him but, looking at the youth, it was obvious an especially striking man was in the making. His voice had already deepened to a timber Wyl could only dream about, while WylТs own still squeaked and cracked in placesЧusually at inopportune moments.
HeТs perfect, Wyl thought glumly to himself, cursing his own shorter stature, red hair, and no doubt blushing face of pale, freckled skin filled with unremarkable features. He tried to mask his despair as the Prince nudged his friends and excused himself, still smirking. The men standing nearby gave polite bows, but exchanged looks of distaste. Celimus may have been a glorious-looking individual whom the young women of the court were already swooning over but he was unpopular among the larger palace community. In this he was his mother all over again. While the King was revered, the heir had no loyalties he might count on from any but the sycophants who hung around him.
УMay Shar help us all when that one takes the throne.Ф someone said, and many gave wary nods of agreement.
Wyl strode away, a sense of foreboding now mingling with his hate: King Magnus had summoned him, no doubt to ask questions about his loyalty. It was hardly news that he and Celimus did not get along.
УCome on. Wyl. make haste.Ф Gueryn urged.
Wyl had not realized how beautiful the palace of Stoneheart was. Up until now it had been to him an impregnable fortress with solid, gray walls, dusty yards, stables, and a mess hall that was always noisy. A place where dogs, horses, soldiers, and servants scurried about in a small world of their own within the castle walls. This more serene aspect of Stoneheart was as unexpected as it was attractive. He felt like an intruder on a new world.
The dark stone looked suddenly handsome in the many light-filled, elegant spaces especially created within the internal structure of the castle. Wyl began to appreciate that the castle was also a palace in its own right, possessing a distinctive style of which simplicity was the key. Walls were not busily cluttered; instead, one eye-catching tapestry might be the only decoration in a vast chamber. Furniture was practical, always simple, favoring the heavier, dark Lomash wood so abundant in Morgravia. Adana had had no influence here. Wyl mused; there was no hint anywhere that a Queen of such exotic heritage had lived any of her short life in this place. He wondered if CelimusТs more extravagant taste would leave its garish mark on Stoneheart when he took the throne.
Hurrying through the corridors and up stairs, trying to keep up with the page, Wyl caught glimpses of carvings of the great beasts. It was believed that every Morgravian was chosen from birth by one of the beasts, and the choice became known when a person made their first pilgrimage to the cathedral at Pearlis. There, the magical creatures were gloriously presented, each holding up one of the pillars of the great nave. Whenever Wyl visited the cathedral, he looked for the famed winged lionЧhis creature. Now. in the palace, he spotted the taloned bear, the magnificent eagle, the serpent cunningly twisting out of the stone, and the beautiful jeweled peacock. Finally, as they drew nearer to the KingТs chambers, he saw the mighty warrior dragon, talisman to all the monarchs of Morgravia. Wyl looked at it in wonderment, then thought of his fatherТs creature, the phoenix. There was a symmetry there which pleased him: both Magnus and Fergys were creatures of fire; no wonder they had loved each other so loyally.
УWait here please,Ф the page said finally, at the top of a second flight of stairs.
УWhere are we?Ф Gueryn wondered aloud.
УOutside the KingТs private study, sir. Please be seated.Ф The boy gestured toward an open corridor with a stone bench fashioned out of the walls on both sides. The area was flooded with sunlight and by the soft, unmistakable fragrance of winterblossom. It was seductive. They strolled over to the balcony and stared into a small but exquisite orchard. Its beauty and perfume kept them silent in their own thoughts.
Soon enough an older man arrived quietly behind them. УItТs difficult to drag oneself away, isnТt it?Ф the man said, his voice low and friendly. Gueryn assumed he must be the KingТs secretary. When they turned, he added. УYou must be Wyl Thirsk.Ф
Wyl nodded.
УWe all loved and greatly respected your fine father, son. He is deeply missed in our community.Ф
УThank you. sir.Ф Wyl stammered, unsure of what else to say, wishing people would allow him to heal that wound and not keep reminding him months after the hated event. This man meant no harm, though. It was their first meeting and only right that he would make mention of his prestigious lineage.
The soldier beside him cleared his throat. УEr. I am his guardianЧФ
УAh. yes, Gueryn le Gant, isnТt it?Ф the man said. His manner was brisk yet kind. УWelcome to you both. Can I offer you something cool to drink? I gather we interrupted your training.Ф The smile was genial.
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