"Springer, Nancy - Book Of The Isle 05 - Golden Swan v1 0.rtf" - читать интересную книгу автора (Springer Nancy)

"In a leaky coracle."
We saw you, I said. Frain heard it as a growl. He was not one of the special few who remembered, who could understand me. He gave me a startled, mistrustful look, such as the castlefolk often did.
"That is Dair," Trevyn said. "He who found you by the sea."
"I owe him my thanks, then." Frain looked at me doubtfully and did not offer the thanks he said he owed.
"We found no coracle," Trevyn added after a moment.
"It leaked, and then it sank," Frain said in a matter-of-fact way. "I am not much of a sailor, and I had not carried enough food, either. Your Majesty, I am ravenous."
"We will get you food. Call me Trevyn."
"I can't. Anyone can see you are a True King."
The doctor bustled out to see about the food, and Trevyn sat smiling at Frain in amusement and growing affection. There was an air of fine, gallant bravery about Frain, and yet a modesty as well, so marked that it was almost shyness. An odd blend. I felt my heart go out to him for the oddity of himЧwell, it had gone out to him before I knew him.
"Why, then," said Trevyn, "call me Lord."
"Thank you, my lord. My brother, TirellЧhe is a True King too."
I would not have thought there could be two such kings in the world. This was either madness or the touch of the goddess. Trevyn gave Frain a keen glance. "You mistook me for him a moment ago," he said.
"In the dark." Frain smiled, a warm smile and very good to look on. "You are as comely as he, but his hair is as black as yours is fair, Lord, black as jet, and his face white with scarcely a hint of color to it, and his eyes blazing blue, ice blue. Women pine with longing for him." Frain's smile faded. "But that is the least of him," he added quietly. "I know the power of the True King. This is a magical place, Lord, is it not?"
Trevyn only nodded. I believe he was astonished.
"Then perhaps you can understand," Frain said slowly, "when I say I have met with a peculiar sort of enchantment, or perhaps a doom. I have traveled seven years since I left Vale, my lord, but they have not aged me. I have not aged a day since the day I was foolish enough to bathe in Lady Death's mirroring lake. I was fifteen then, and I am nearly twenty-four now. But I am still fifteenЧ in effect."
Trevyn had seen too many marvels in his life to doubt anyone. He merely nodded.
"You do not look fifteen," he said with a scholar's interest. "Maybe seventeen or so." Frain was sturdy, muscular even, and handsome in spite of the crippled arm.
"I was well grown." A tinge of bitterness seeped into his voice. "A child in the body of a man."
"And now you have eternal youth." Trevyn sat back, musing, gazing at the stranger. "People judge that to be the greatest of blessings, the foremost gift of the gods."
"They are mistaken." Frain spoke so quietly, so evenly, that the sense of his words struck with a shock, jagged rock under still water. "It is the curse of the gods. Lord, I am entrapped. I have not been able to grow or leave anything behind in all my wanderings. Seven years and they have not helped me or healed meЧit is as if I am frozen, a fly in amber. Lord, the wound smarts as if it were given but yesterday."
For a moment there was silence. Even Trevyn did not seem to know what to say. Then the doctor scurried in, leading a servant with a steaming bowl of porridge. Frain could scarcely contain his eagerness. His hand trembled as he reached for the spoon.
"Slowly," Trevyn cautioned, holding the bowl for him.
He ate, and not very slowly. As he sat back after eating we could see that he was in pain.
"Gut-ache," he said. "Sorry. I tried not to gulp."
"Never mind. Lie down." Trevyn helped him to curl up under the blankets. "Keep warm, maybe sleep. I will have someone bring you a warm brick."
"Thank you. Truly, my lord, I feel that I shall soon be much better. Thank you for everything.",
He wanted us to leave. But Trevyn lingered, frowning thoughtfully.
"Only one more question, if you do not mind telling me. What were you seeking, that you set to sea in so small a craft, unprovisioned, and in the freezing season yet?"
"Ascalonia," said Frain, his voice muffled by blankets. "Ogygia. The home of the goddess, if you will."
"Is that a sunlit land? You could have gotten to it in a larger vessel, if it is, and at a more clement time of year. Or was it perhaps death you were seeking?"
"Yes, hi a sense. Her name is Shamarra. But to find her I must first speak to the goddess hi Ogygia." Frain stirred tensely. "I hardly know anymore what I really seekЧ growth, death, change, endingЧ"
"Who is Shamarra?"
"That is yet another question." The daring of him, with a king he scarcely knew! But Trevyn smiled and touched his shoulder.
"Sleep well," he said, and we left him. We did not speak until we reached the far end of the corridor.
He is a marvel, I said finally. I sensed uneasily that he did not like me, and I wished I could abate my liking for him, but I could not.
"Ay," said Trevyn absently. "I expected no less. And it is a good nameЧcan you say it, Dair? FRAINЧjust try it one sound at a time. FRЧ"
Stop it! Sudden, surprising anger snapped through me and I roared aloud, Let me done, I am of no use, I am fate's fool, a freakЧThe few servants within hearing fled in panic at the noise I was making, but Trevyn hugged me. I stopped my ranting, laid my head on his shoulder and groaned.
"I am sorry," he said. "I won't badger you anymore." It is not you. The castlefolk talk in front of me as if
I am too stupid to understand them. They can me wood-wouse, wild man. I make such an oaf of a human.
"They are frightened," said Trevyn, and he stepped back a little, eyeing me with a smile. "You are rather awesome, you know. Face of the god of the wild thingsЧ I have seen gods, rememberЧand strength enough for any two men, and grace coming to you already, grace learned from no humanЕ"
Some of the maids beckon at me, as if I were meat for their tasting. Then they laugh at me when I refuse them. I wish I wereЧI could not say I wished I were dead, though it had a fine ring to it, for it was not true. The Old Language speaks from the heart. It cannot say untruth.
"You wish you were a wolf again?"
There spoke Trevyn True King. He would not flinch from whatever was. I faced him with blinking eyes.
Yes. That is part of it. But the worst of it isЧI forced myself onward, floundering after the sour scent of truthЧ Frain. He does not like me any better than the others do.
"He is frightened, too," said Trevyn.
But why? I had expected better of him, somehow.
"The essence of you, the wildness, I think. Because you remind him of somethingЧor because he is frightened of things within himself."
I had thought he would be courageous, I complained.
"He is, he is very courageous! Look at how far he has come. And there is nothing more fearsome than what he is facing."
I did not understand. But Trevyn spoke as one who knew.