"Elizabeth Moon - Gird 01 - Surrender None" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moon Elizabeth)

тАЬEseaтАЩs light on him,тАЭ muttered the priest, as the midwife mouthed,
тАЬAlyanyaтАЩs sweet peace,тАЭ and laid the wet pink newborn on his
motherтАЩs belly. The priest, sent down hurriedly in the midst of dinner
from the lordтАЩs hall, dabbed his finger in the blood and touched it to a
kerchief, then cut with silver scissors a lock of the newbornтАЩs wet
dark hair, which he folded in the same kerchief. With that as proof,
no fond foolish peasant girl could hide the child away from his true
father. The stupid slut might try that; some of them did, being so
afraid of the lordтАЩs magic, although anyone with wit enough to dip
stew from a kettle ought to realize that the lords meant no harm to
these outbred children. Quite the contrary. With a final sniff, the
priest sketched a gesture that left a streak of light in the room long
after heтАЩd left, and departed, to report the successful birth. Not a
monster, a manchild whole of limb and healthy. Perhaps this one
would inherit the birthright magicтАж perhaps.
Behind, in the birthing room, the midwife glowered at the glowing
patch of air, and sketched her own gesture, tossing a handful of herbs
at it. It hung there still, hardly fading. The new mother grunted, and
the midwife returned to her work, ignoring the light she was
determined not to need. She had the healing hands, a legacy of a great-
grandmotherтАЩs indiscretion in the days when such indiscretions meant
a quick marriage to some handy serf. She hardly believed the change,
and having a priest of Esea in the birthing room convinced her only
that the high lords had no decency.
In the lordтАЩs hall, the infantтАЩs future was quickly determined. His
mother could be his nurse, but his rearing would be that of a young
lord, until his ability or lack of it appeared.
The boy showed a quick intelligence, a lively curiosity; he learned
easily and could form the elegant script of Old Aare by the time he
had seen six midwinter festivals. He had no peasant accent; he had no

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Elizabeth Moon - Surrender None


lack of manners or bodily grace. He also had no magic, and when the
lord lost hope that he might show a useful trace of it, he found the
boy a foster family in one of his villages, and sent him away.
It could have been worse. His lord provided: the family prospered,
and the youth, as he grew to be, had no trouble finding a wife. He
would inherit a farmstead, he was told, and in due time he had his
own farm. With his fatherтАЩs gifts, he started well above the average,
and as well he had the position of a market judge in the nearest town.
It was not enough to live on, but it supplemented his farmтАЩs
production. He knew he was well off, and shrugged away the hopes
heтАЩd once had of being adopted into the lordтАЩs family. Yet he could
not forget his parentage, or the promise of magic.