"Quickening - 02 - Blood And Memory" - читать интересную книгу автора (McIntosh Fiona)

But Wyl had forbidden Fynch from sharing this knowledge. He alone knew the truth of Koreldy, which is why the QueenТs decision had been so painful for him. He loved Valentyna and wished he could tell her who Romen Koreldy was, but he knew it would be in vain. How could anyone who could not conceive that sorcery existed believe such a tale?

He had hoped to see Romen before they took him away from WerrylЧthat way he could hear WylТs plans, however thin they might be. It had not been permitted. Knave had wanted to follow his trace, but Fynch had exerted his own authority for once and told his companion to wait. They needed to plan their next move. The boy sensed that the dog could find its master anywhere. They could catch up with Wyl later. Instead he needed time to tidy his mind to consider all options first. So the woods had become their hiding place.

Fynch had expected to be here for a few days, but he was wrong. Outside events began to have their own crushing impact.

No amount of shushing or cajoling had prevented Knave from the sudden howling he had taken to that night. Fynch presumed it was to ward off any wolves or poachers, but it was a strange sound, one of despair. Perhaps he was missing Wyl? The dog was closed to him, so he could not work out what was troubling him. Knave did not want to be touched or spoken to and so Fynch had tossed and turned, trying to shut out the terrible keening. Before first light Knave had roused Fynch again. The boy sleepily obeyed and followed. Clearly the dog had an objective. It was still dark, so he knew they would not be seen by Valentyna. They slipped into the castle grounds, waving to guards and getting a familiar raised hand back. Knave was making for the main courtyard. Fynch had no idea why, but it became all too clear after the arrival of Commander Liryk.

They had watched him enter the bailey. He looked grave and weary. They saw him hand over the reins to the stable boy and heard him give some order to his men, although Fynch had not been able to make out the words.

As Liryk had left the courtyard and entered the castle, Fynch noticed that Knave was no longer at his side but was whining by the cart that had rolled in after Liryk. He watched with what felt like a claw around his throat, squeezing tighter and harder, as the men had struggled to lift something out of the cart. Instinctively, before he could even tell its shape, he knew they were pulling at the corpse of Romen Koreldy and his heart broke.

Relieved that they gave him permission to be present, a distraught Fynch followed them into the cool chapel. The men obviously recognized him as one of KoreldyТs friends. He stood, rigid in his despair, by the side of the body, feeling disturbed by its pallor. Romen had been browned from the sun; he should not be this ghostly.

A guard, sensitive to the friendship that had existed between the dead man and the child, gently explained that a great deal of blood had drained at the time of death, which would account for its shockingly pale appearance. The boy was not so sure he had needed to hear the reasoning, but he whispered his thanks all the same and was glad when the man had stepped away.

The soldiers, all known to him, murmured their sympathies. One even apologized for not keeping Romen safe. Fynch wanted to cry out that Koreldy could take care of himself and so he had obviously been duped, then murderedЧnot that he knew the circumstances yet. Instead he accepted their commiserations silently and was relieved when they gradually departed.

He and Knave were alone at last with their friend and he felt it would be all right now if he cried. He reached out and smoothed back a few stray hairs from RomenТs face; Wyl had adopted KoreldyТs fastidiousness and would not like his hair so scruffy.

Those who had dealt with the body in Crowyll had done their bestЧmercifully wiping away most traces of blood and putting him in a fresh shirt. Still, he was hardly tidy and Fynch knew he would hate to be seen so disheveled. He leaned down and kissed his friendТs forehead before laying his own head on RomenТs cool chest and allowing his sorrow to echo through the chapel.

The dog sniffed the body long and carefully. Presumably satisfied that his master no longer breathed, he joined Fynch. Knave was patient. It was as though he understood that it was FynchТs turn nowЧthe boy needed to grieve.

That was how Valentyna found Fynch.



She felt her composure slip as she stepped quietly into the chapel flanked by Krell and Liryk, who had insisted on accompanying her. On seeing the child draped over the corpse, she felt the sickening lurch of a cry rushing toward her throat. It was real. Death was here. It was KrellТs guiding hand, a gentle, well-timed touch, steering her down the short aisle, that rescued her. She fought the grief back down and was able once again to look at the poignant scene before her. Fynch looked so small, so vulnerable. She desperately wanted to hold him; cling to the livingЧnot allow him to hate her so.

Instead, as she silently drew up beside him, she risked taking his hand. She knew it was leaving herself open to his rebuke, for who could blame a youngster for not keeping his emotions in check? She was relieved when he did not pull away from her touch but straightened and stepped back from the corpse to stand next to her. Valentyna looked down into the tear-stained face and felt herself rewarded with a vague, watery smile. It was enough.

УWe lost him,Ф he whispered, his voice leaden with sorrow.

УYes,Ф she replied, now finally finding the courage to look fully upon the body of the man she had loved.

Neither Krell nor Liryk stirred and both Fynch and Knave stood like statues while she stepped around Romen, seeing nothing for the moment other than how handsome he was in such stillness. Even through her concentration, however, she was aware that one set of eyes moved with her and regarded her intently.

Knave watched. What is he thinking? she wondered, glad of the distraction for her mind while she absorbed this final vision of her love.

УMay I?Ф she asked, tentatively pointing toward his shirt.

LirykТs sad eyes blinked. He nodded gently, knowing what she wished to see.

УHeТs so pale,Ф she whispered.

УThere was a lot of blood lost,Ф Fynch replied, his voice coming as though from far away.

She felt herself lurch again inwardly as a picture of RomenТs body spewing forth his lifeblood swam into her mind. Undoing the buttons, she revealed his chest, no longer warm and filled with love for her. Valentyna needed to see the ugly wound where the blade had been expertly driven and RomenТs heart had been punctured, all of its love drained out on the floor of a brothel while a whore called Hildyth shrieked as she watched him die.