"Sharon K. Penman - Here Be Dragons" - читать интересную книгу автора (Penman Sharon K)

sins. You know fully as well as I that Henry could anoint John as the very
King of Heaven for all it'd avail him. The lords of this realm would never
countenance so flagrant a breach of the laws of inheritance Nor can you doubt
the outcome. Whatever John might be given, he'd not long holdnot against
Richard. No, Rob, if that be the balm Richard uses to soothe his conscience,
he is a man much in need of absolution."
Robert's face was mottled, splotched with resentful red. "Richard is to be our
next King, should God so will it, and I'll not have you speak ill of him in my
hearing."
Hugh sighed. By now he could recite the dialogue verbatim for these
acrimonious exchanges. Rob was as blind as a barn owl in a noonbright sun,
dazzled by Richard's celebrated skill with a sword. Mayhap it was true that he
was the finest soldier in Christendom, but if he had in him the makings of a
good King, Hugh had yet to see any signs of it. Like as not, he'd pawn London
itself to raise the gold he needed for his foreign wars. And John . . . would
John be any better? Hugh thought not.
He came abruptly to his feet. Why offend Rob and unsettle himself? To what
end? Let it lie.
They were sequestered in the uppermost chamber of the castle keep, alone but
for a bored page and a dozing mastiff, Robert's faithful shadow. The window
was unshuttered; in winter it would be screened with oiled and thinly scraped
hide, but this was summer and it was open to sun and sound from the tiltyard
below. Hugh went to it and watched for a while.
"What do you watch?" The question was polite in tone, conciliatory in intent;
Robert thrived on family discord no more than Hugh.
"Llewelyn and some of his friends." As Robert joined him, Hugh gestured toward
a small group of youngsters gathered below. Llewelyn was mounted on a
burnished chestnut gelding; as the boys watched, he lowered his lance, took
aim, and sent the gelding cantering across the tiltyard. He hit the target
off-center and the quintain swung about in a wide arc, the sandbag slicing
through the air like an opponent's counter blow. It should have sent him
tumbling from the saddle to the straw
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soften youthful falls. But Llewelyn twisted sideways in th^ e&M leaning so
far to his left that it seemed inevitable he'd be uru
cl and the sandbag swept by harmlessly overhead. k^Hugh grinned. It was a
showy stunt, an undeniably impressive feat emanship, one that Hugh had seen
before. Robert had not, how^ ┬░ er┬░ and he swore in startled wonder. CV "How
in Christ did he do that without breaking his neck?"
Hugh laughed. "You'd not credit what I've seen that lad do or\ u rse I truly
believe the Welsh do learn to ride even ere they're
weaned."
Below them, Stephen de Hodnet was taking his turn upon Lie-
elvn's gelding. He, too, hit the quintain awry and, seconds later, went
sprawling into the straw, with a bruising impact that earned him no
sympathy from the two watching men; they had suffered too many such
spills themselves during their own years as knightly apprentices.
Reclaiming Sul, Llewelyn led it over to the fence, held out the reins to his
brother. Adda shook his head, but Llewelyn persisted, maneuvering the gelding
up to the fence so the younger boy could mount. Once securely in the saddle,