"Andrew J. Offutt - Cormac 01 - The Mists of Doom" - читать интересную книгу автора (Offutt Andrew J)

тАЬCuchulain of Muirthemne!тАЭ LugaidтАЩs voice was an explosive whisper. Hey pronounced the name of the Irish
Akilles or Odysseos/Ulysses; his landтАЩs greatest folk-hero whose deeds were known to every lad. And the
colour of the High-king came and went as quickly as the aspen by the stream.
тАЬEven Cuchulain,тАЭ Milchu said.
Then Lugaid cocked his head and came nigh to smiling. тАЬSo was it at the death of Cuchulain, ChulanтАЩs
houndтАФand was ArtтАЩs son of Connact dead, then?тАЭ
тАЬFar from it, lord King. Merely dazed and exhausted was the youth and his long-used arms atremble, whilst
all victorious he supported himself against a stone taller than he and four times as broad.тАЭ
LugaidтАЩs eyes were ugly and his lips tight. тАЬI much prefer a dead legend to a live hero, MilchuтАФespecially with
his parentage and that name.тАЭ
тАЬAye,тАЭ Milchu said, and he was silent then, seeing that the High-king pondered.
Known well to Lugaid was Art of Connacht. Well-birthed the man was, a descendant of the family of
High-kings so many of whom had come from Connact that it had been called the Cradle of Kings and even
Tara of the West. Aye, Lugaid knew of Art mac Comail. A brave and fearless fighter in the service of
ConnachtтАЩs king the man was. For many a year he had done mayhem among the ever-restless Cruithne, or
Picts, on ConnachtтАЩs shores.
Art, too, was of the descendants of Niall.
Seventy years dead was Niall, great High-king who had sallied forth into Alba and Britain and even into Gaul
over the water. Sons he had in plenty, Fiacaid and Laegair, Conal Crimthanni of the Britonish mother, and
Mani, and Conal Gulban and Eoghan and Cairbri and Enna... only thirteen years dead was Conal of Tir
Connail. And these were the ui-Neill, the descendants of Niall, and so was Art, ComalтАЩs son of Connact. Yet
he was king not in Tara nor in Connacht.
Without real power the man was, and watched even by his own king for what and who he was. Lugaid knew
he was popular and a hero, commander of a rath he protected well... a coastal command far from the capital
at Cruachan.
I like not the manтАЩs arrogance in naming his son Cormac, for that greatest of High-kings whose father was Art
Aenfher, Art the Lonely. Too easily, he mused, staring at Milchu while hardly seeing him, do legends and
popular fervors grow. And in Connacht...!
тАЬAnd so... now even the son of Art of the Connachtish ui-Neill, and him bearing so auspicious and magnetic a
name, is a hero...тАЭ
тАЬAye, lord King.тАЭ
тАЬAnd him but fourteen.тАЭ
тАЬAye, lord King.тАЭ
тАЬWith many years ahead of him.тАЭ
тАЬLord King, yourself has said it.тАЭ
Aye, and a threat to the highest crown, Lugaid did not say, a threat to me!
тАЬNow... Milchu ... this is fact...тАЭ
тАЬLord King, the information comes from one in my service, and him of Connacht, close to Lord Art.тАЭ
тАЬYou will tell me his name.тАЭ
Milchu bowed to that and made answer at once, for it was no question but a command.
тАЬEoin mac Gulbain, High-king.тАЭ
тАЬGulban! Ah.тАЭ
тАЬEven so, my lord King. The Lord GulbanтАЩs son Eoin is a weapon-man among those who serve the lord Art. A
brave man and a loyal warrior, Eoin... though he wears another name, keeping his own under a cloak of
deception. For he has with Art a blood-feudтАФтАЭ
тАЬAhhh. And this time Lugaid did not smile, for possibilities of counteractions took shape in his mind nigh as
swiftly as plots.
тАЬAye, lord King,тАЭ Milchu said with a nod. He knew he need not explain the significance to this ever-mistrustful
man, this calculating plotter on EirrinтАЩs highest throne. тАЬAye. Nor would Eoin mac Gulbain wish good on Art,
for he feels that Art was responsible for the ruination of his father and the sinking of his family.тАЭ