"Sean Russell - River Into Darkness 1 - Beneath the Vaunted Hills" - читать интересную книгу автора (Russell Sean)

Erasmus was thirtyтАФnot so young by the standards of Farr-landтАФand was, despite his name, no longer
easy prey to flattery.

Up a broad flight of stairs and finally into the most eccentric library Erasmus had ever seen. It belonged in
an ancient abbey or college for studies in the arcane. The room was polished oak from the floor to the
very top of the shelvesтАФsome two stories upтАФand was all nooks and alcoves and stairways and carrels.
Balconies were suspended precariously overhead, backed by cliffs of books. Sliding ladders, at odd
angles to everything else, ran up to bronze railings.
BENEATH THE VAULTED HlLLS

People stood on these ladders, surveying the crowd or holding forth to groups who gathered about their
feet.

Erasmus realized that Mrs. Trocket had left him alone. Perhaps she had even bid him farewell.

The room was crowded with people, and there was such a hum of conversation that he thought of his
beehives in far off Locfal. It was, to ErasmusтАЩ eye, a typical gathering of the educated classes of Avonel,
though to one well-versed in such things, it might have been a more fashionable group than was common.
Erasmus did not much care for such distinctions.

He noticed that everyone seemed a bit more animated than usual, as though they were trying to hide their
discomfort, or perhaps they were merely thrilled to find themselves in such a place, for certainly none of
the ladies had been in a brothel before. Many of the men looked distinctly uncomfortable, and Erasmus
was sure it wasnтАЩt because this was their first visitтАФbut they had unquestionably never been here in the
company of their wives. They were likely terrified that some young woman was going to recognize them,
though Erasmus knew that the able Mrs. Trocket would have advised her young ladies beforehand. Still,
it was good sport to watch the husbands shying like nervous foals.

Scattered among the people attending the party were both servants and working girls and they talked and
laughed with the guests and plied them with spirits and delicacies. The atmosphere here, in the center of
the MarchionessтАЩ circle, was less bawdy and brazen than Erasmus had seen in the other chambers.
Passions were well under control where oneтАЩs reputation could actually suffer some damage. After all,
the usual codeтАФthat one did not speak of who or what one saw in a brothelтАФwould not be in effect this
night. People would likely talk of nothing else for days.

Erasmus began searching the room for familiar faces, and though there were many that he knew by sight,
he couldnтАЩt find anyone he thought might offer interesting conversation, and he saw several he knew for a
fact had never said an intriguing thing in their lives. He thought the rather intense looking man across the
room seemed vaguely familiar, and then realized that it was his own face in a looking glass, and this made
him laugh.

Well, he certainly wonтАЩt have anything to say that I havenтАЩt heard before, Erasmus thought.

He backed up against the wall of books, and thinking he would

keep people at bay if he were engaged in some activity, he took a volume from the shelf and opened it.
In two lines he realized that it was erotic fiction, and returned it to the shelf. What pleasure could such an
activity provide if one could indulge it openly? All the books he could see were of the same variety, so he
turned back to the gathering.