"Robin McKinley - Damar 1 - The Blue Sword" - читать интересную книгу автора (McKinley Robin)

poured a cup of tea, and took it to Sir Charles where he stood squinting into the morning sunlight.
"Trouble?" said Lady Amelia gently. "More trouble?"
Sir Charles dropped the curtain and turned around. "Yes! More trouble." He looked down at his
hands, realized he was holding a cup of tea in one of them, and took a swallow from it with the air of a
man who does what is expected of him. "There may be war with the North. Jack thinks so. I'm not sure,
butI don't like the rumors. We must secure the passes through the mountainsparticularly Ritger's Gap,
which gives anybody coming through it almost a direct line to Istan, and then of course to the whole
Province. It may only be some tribal uproarbut it could be war, as real as it was eighty years ago. There
aren't many of the old Damarians leftthe Hillfolkbut we've been forced to have a pretty healthy respect
for them. And if King Corlath decides to throw his chances in with the Northerners"
There was a clatter in the street below. Sir Charles' head snapped around. "There they are at last," he
said, and bolted for the front door and threw it open himself, under the scandalized eye of the butler who
had emerged from his inner sanctum just too late. "Come in! I've been in high fidgets for the last hour,
wondering what's become of you. Have you found out anything that might be of use to us? I have been
trying to explain to the ladies what our problem is."
"Would you care for breakfast?" Lady Amelia asked without haste, and with her usual placid
courtesy. "Charles may be trying to explain, but so far he has not succeeded." In response to her gesture,
a maid laid two more places at the table. With a jingling of spurs the two newcomers entered, apologized
for their dirt, and were delighted to accept some breakfast. Richard dropped a perfunctory kiss on his
sister's cheek on his way to the eggs and ham. After a few minutes of tea-pouring and butter-passing,
while Sir Charles strode up and down the room with barely suppressed impatience, it was Lady Amelia
who spoke first. "We will leave you to your business, which I can see is very important, and we won't
pester you with demands for explanations. But would you answer just one question?"
Colonel Dedham said, "Of course, Melly. What is it?"
"What is it that has suddenly thrown you into this turmoil? Some unexpected visitor, I gather, from
what Charles said?"
Dedham stared at her. "He didn't tell you? Good God. It's Corlath himself. He's coming. He never
comes near here, you knownone of the real Hillfolk do if they can help it. At best, if we want badly
enough to talk to him, we can catch one of his men as they pass through the foothills northeast of here.
Sometimes."
"You see," broke in Sir Charles, "it makes us hope that perhaps he wishes to cooperate with usnot
the Northerners. Jack, did you find out anything?"
Dedham shrugged. "Not really. Nothing that we didn't already knowthat his coming here is
unprecedented, to say the leastand that it is in fact him. Nobody had any better guesses than ours about
why, suddenly, he decided to do so."
"But your guess would be" prompted Sir Charles.
Dedham shrugged again, and looked wry. "You know already what my guess would be. You just like
to hear me making an ass of myself. But I believe in the, um, curious things that happen out there" he
waved the sugar spoon"and I believe that Corlath must have had some sort of sign, to go to the length of
approaching us."
A silence fell; Harry could see that everyone else in the room was uncomfortable. "Sign?" she said
tentatively.
Dedham glanced up with his quick smile. "You haven't been here long enough to have heard any of
the queer stories about the old rulers of Damar?"
"No," she said.
"Well, they were sorcerersor so the story goes. Magicians. They could call the lightning down on the
heads of their enemies, that sort of thinguseful stuff for founding an empire."
Sir Charles snorted.
"No, you're quite right; all we had was matchlocks and enthusiasm. Even magic wanes, I suppose.
But I don't think it's waned quite away yet; there's some still living in those mountains out there. Corlath