"Patricia A. McKillip - The Tower at Stony Wood" - читать интересную книгу автора (McKillip Patricia A)

crumpled eyes held his gaze as if, he thought, she recognized him. But he knew
Skye only as a nebulous, unpredictable land along the western sea. It had been
overrun, a century before, by the restless armies of Yves, who had not realized,
until they conquered it, what a strange country they had made their own. Poets
came out of Skye, and rumors of magic, and the odd warrior seeking a place in
Gloinmere, with a cloak smelling of sheepskin and a name older than Yves.
High on a wall, trumpeters blew a fanfare to the kingтАЩs bride. The old woman
loosed CyanтАЩs eyes and disappeared into the patchwork swirl of dismounting
guests. Cyan searched through the confusion; the Lady from Skye had apparently
added herself to it.
 The knights around Cyan had not been so distracted.
тАЬIs she beautiful?тАЭ one demanded. тАЬOr isnтАЩt she?тАЭ
тАЬShe has a face like a fish.тАЭ
тАЬShe is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life.тАЭ
тАЬSheтАЩs too tall, and colorless as cloud.тАЭ
тАЬI would lay my body in the mud for her to walk across. Anyway, the king
looks like a bear.тАЭ
тАЬWhich is she?тАЭ Cyan asked, wondering what he had missed, and how.
тАЬYou didnтАЩt see her, Cyan? How could you not?тАЭ A gauntlet pointed. тАЬLook
there. The gawky one with the king. ItтАЩs a marriage made of money.тАЭ
тАЬThere is no money in Skye,тАЭ he argued absently, finding nothing gawky with
or without the king.
тАЬThen it is a matter of peace.тАЭ
тАЬSkye is always peaceful,тАЭ Cyan said, for Skye had paid tribute without
comment for a century to the Kings of Yves, in return for being left unnoticed.
тАЬThen itтАЩs a matter of sorcery,тАЭ a dark knight beside him muttered sourly.
тАЬShe bewitched him, and will bring her monstrous ways into Yves.тАЭ
Cyan felt a sudden tension at his back, a breath sharply drawn, the shift of
metal in a scabbard. The raw, impoverished knights from Skye, drawn to
GloinmereтАЩs wealth and power, took suggestions of sorcery personally. Cyan
turned. His eyes, clear and light as rain, fell on them and they shifted.
He turned his gaze on the knight beside him and said mildly, тАЬIn a hundred
years, nothing without honor has come out of Skye, not a knight, not a promise.
Why would the king find anything less to bring back to Gloinmere?тАЭ
The dour knight blinked, yielded.
тАЬThen it must have been,тАЭ he amended dubiously, тАЬa matter of love.тАЭ
The shadow lifted over Skye; there was a soft laugh behind them. Cyan
brought his attention back to the yard.
тАЬI still havenтАЩt seen her.тАЭ
тАЬThere тАФ on the steps.тАЭ
Cyan looked, but missed her again. The company of knights moved then to
follow the king to the hall. Their silken surcoats were bright with the symbols
of family and rank: birds and animals, suns and shooting stars, pyramids and
lightning bolts and the phases of the moon. Cyan wore three gold towers on a
field of midnight blue. Through centuries, the towers had lost their doors and
windows, had become only the idea of towers. It was an ancient emblem, but
beyond honor and a name older than the kingтАЩs, his family possessed little. He
had been brought to court by his father when he was twelve to be raised and
trained with the young prince. Cyan grew up in the sprawling shadow his father
had cast, and then out of it, abruptly, when he saved the newly crowned RegisтАЩs