"Andre Norton - Oak, Yew, Ash & Rowan 1 - To The King A Daughter" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

Kazi's question.
Grumbling, Kazi obeyed; when the babe opened its mouth again to cry in hunger, the titтАФheavy with the
mixture Zazar employed to foster all manner of orphansтАФ was ready for it.

"Joal be comingтАФ" Kazi began again. With her good foot, she pushed at the limp, bloodied body of the
woman. She sighed.

Zazar knew that Kazi had already managed, or so she hoped, to filch unseen from the dead one's cloak a
shiny circle of a brooch set with a blue stone. It was undoubtedly the most beautiful piece of jewelry Kazi
had ever had. In fact, it was the only piece of jewelry she had ever had. Zazar had taken some effort to
instill in Kazi the certainty that her mistress had eyes not only in the back of her head, but all around it as
well. Let Kazi think she had overlooked the brooch and because of that, wouldn't take it away from her.
Actually, she didn't care one way or another.

"Yes, I agree. The woman is dead," Zazar said calmly. "Let Joal have what remains of her. The child,
howeverтАж" She spoke slowly. The baby seemed satisfied, full-fed and sleepy. Zazar leaned closer to the
lantern that lit up all the tools of her callingтАФbones, and seeds, dried leaves, the stiff, stark body of an
orb snake.

With care, she drew aside the wrapping about the child.

She had to be completely certain. Yes, the resemblance to both the mother and the father showed even
now on the infant's unformed features. No mistaking the color of that hair-fluff or the future regal shape of
nose, lips, face. She had seen the woman many times in the scrying-pot, and everyone in Rendel knew
the man on sight. Further, she had confirmed her visions with the bones. Zazar's smile was gone; her lips
tightened. Oh, yes, she had read the bones many times over in these past ten days, and every time they
had told the same tale.

She held one who would be a changer, perhaps would even break the bonds of the

Bog-land itself. Would it be for good or for ill? Zazar did not know; the bones refused to tell her. For a
moment, she was tempted. It would be so very easy to put her hand over the small mouth and nose and
let daughter follow mother, as any of the Bog-people would demand that she do.

But somehow, somehow there was that which forbade such action. She knew what she nursed. Before
covering the little body again, she nodded. It was not to Kazi that she spoke, but to the Something that
could ever command them all.

'To the King." She carefully chose the words of state that should rightfully have greeted the child after the
trumpet blasts proclaiming its arrival: "To our most worthy Lord King, a daughter!"

Kazi huddled, curled protectively into a ball, and suddenly Zazar turned to look at her, as if remembering
she had a listener. She loosed one forefinger from the hold she kept upon the babe and pointed at her
servant. "Be silent!"

A thread of Power went out from that finger and enveloped Kazi. Zazar watched it vanish into the
woman's skin. It might not be Kazi's will that would keep her silent now and in the future, but this would.

The Wysen-wyf did not rise but moved on her knees to the still body of the noblewoman. In the firelight,