"Irene Radford - Merlins Descendents 03 - Guardian of the Vision" - читать интересную книгу автора (Radford Irene)

The jester struck several discordant notes to accent the mood of the room. A retreating courtier tripped
over Helwriaeth at my feet. He flailed his arms wildly and went down on one knee. The jester let loose
with another ditty about tripping over a bitchтАЩs skirts.

They all laughed again. Except for Queen Catherine de Medici, mother-in-law to Marie, near regent for
the ailing King Henri II and the true power in France. That formidable woman did not have much of a
sense of humor. Queen Marie sobered first among her glittering array of courtiers. They stilled their mirth
from one heartbeat to the next.

Helwriaeth cowered against my leg. She smelled danger on the sweat of these people. My own
awareness heightened along with the dogтАЩs. The court milled around, waiting upon the pleasure of one
queen or the other.

Both held the power of life and death over every one of us. тАЬYou must wonder why we have summoned
you to court, Pere Griffin.тАЭ Queen MarieтАЩs eyes narrowed in calculation.

I merely nodded acceptance of this change of subject. тАЬWe have heard from our learned Bishop of
Paris, Eustachius du Bellay, that you have been blessed with visions.тАЭ Her impeccable French accent
hardened to betray a trace of the Scots she had spoken until the age of five. Her frail husband touched
her hand as if he needed to remind her of something.

Marie glared at the hand until Francis removed it. The cardinal standing behind the young queen
frowned. Modern priests were supposed to extol the visions of saints in the past, not have them in
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modern times. IтАЩd walked a narrow line between reverence and excommunication for five years.

Catherine de Medici frowned at Marie.

The young queen tossed her head in dismissal of the older womanтАЩs silent reprimand. Her veils drifted
around her pretty shoulders, drawing attention to her long and graceful neck and the mass of red-gold
hair. Every movement became an artificial study in highlighting her beauty. And then my gaze met hers.
Her dancing eyes lightened my heart and drew me deep into her enthrallment. Marie, by the Grace of
God, Queen of Scots, possessed a kind of magic of her own.

I shook off her spell and nodded, acknowledging her statement. I needed a moment to regain my senses.
Even then I could not speak of the cursed talent that plagued me. IтАЩd had only two visions while awake
since coming to France, both within the first few months. But I could not control my dreams. I could not
shake the heaviness of those dreams except under the brightest of sunshine. Raven called me home
through my dreams. тАЬWe wish you to give us your vision of the health of our dear cousin Queen Mary
Tudor of England.тАЭ

I chilled. Magic crowded my vision, threatening to show me things. Why now, when I had been free of
this curse for nearly four years? My last vision had come on the day of Protestant King EdwardтАЩs death
and Catholic Mary TudorтАЩs ascension to the throne of England five years ago. IтАЩd seen flame and death
and bitter rejection of the queen.