"Nancy Springer - Chains Of Gold" - читать интересную книгу автора (Springer Nancy)

Nancy Springer

CHAINS OF GOLD



ONE




I first met Arlen of the Sacred Isle on the eve of our nuptials: Lonn, the comrade, and then Arlen, the
sacred king. Being not entirely without sense or spirit, I had no intention of wedding this winterking or a
summerking or a sacred king of any sort; I wanted no part of anything so fearsome. But my father, Rahv
of the Seven Holds, sensed the mystic power of that kingshipтАФpower, even though the newmade kings
did nothing but breed and theтАФand he wanted a snatch at it, through me, perhaps for the sake of the
flattery of rival lords. Or perhaps he truly hoped to obtain the favor of the goddess. Whatever his reason,
he brought me a long journey across the Secular Lands, past the yellow eskers that divided the
demesnes, past tilled land and pastureland, past many stone keeps atop their mounds and many tower
holds. Closer to the river lay only oakwood wilderness, for no one lived there, near the holy water. Rahv
brought me to the river shore on the eve of the winter solstice, and in that chill dusk I was sent over to the
Sacred Isle.

Naga, the river was called, meaning serpentine, or Sacred Catena, the chain. It ran at the edge of the
Secular Lands, the edge of the world folk knew; on the far side, it was said, only heroes trod. Down
from AdderтАЩs Head far to the north Naga flowed, lake after lake and island after river island, for every
lake a name and between every lake the river and the islands, and for every island a name and a tree
hallowed to it. The tree of the Sacred Isle was the willow, for sorrow.

I had never seen the Naga, for I had been kept very much castlebound, and I stared at the water,
expecting to see snakes swimming in it, perhaps, or a sheen as of scales on the river itself. It looked
black in the dusk, rippling and glinting restlessly, as if it were indeed alive, as bards said it would become
in the end time, when it would rise and slither away to join the glycon in the deep. For the time, it lay
darkly, and great white flakes of snow dropped into it.

Near my ear, someone guffawed.

тАЬBelly of the goddess, but the wenchтАЩs look is as dark as yon water! See her scowl. Beware, Rahv; they
are likely to send her back to you when they see the black brows over her eyes.тАЭ

It was Eachan, the wretch who had wed my sister and then killed her, daring to gibe at my black hair
and dark-skinned face. I glared at him, and he laughed; other lords standing nearby laughed with him. My
father cuffed me on the side of my head, though not hard enough to bruise, not when my body would
soon be on display for the GwynedaтАЩs approval.

тАЬShe will do for breeding,тАЭ he said. тАЬNaught else is needed. Go on!тАЭ he ordered, sending me forward
with a shove.

I stumbled into the boat that awaited me and sank to the seat, gathering my sable mantle around me.
Before me rose the high head of a swan. I sat in a swan boat as white as the falling snow, and though my