"Mary Stewart - The Arthurian Saga 02 - The Hollow Hills" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stewart Mary)

drew together, painfully. "I'd have noticed badges, surely, if they'd had them?"

"How were they dressed?"
"I тАФ I hardly noticed. Leather tunics, I think, and chain-mail caps. No shields, but swords and daggers."

"And they were well mounted. I saw that. Did you hear their speech?"

"Not that I remember. They hardly spoke, a shout or two, that was all. British speech, but I couldn't tell
where from. I'm not good at accents."

"There was nothing you can think of that might have marked them for King's men?"

This was probing too near the wound. He went scarlet, but said levelly enough: "Nothing. But is it
likely?"

"I wouldn't have thought so," I said. "But kings are queer cattle, and queerest of all when they have bad
consciences. Well, then, Cornishmen?"

The flush had ebbed, leaving him if possible more sickly pale than before. His eyes were sullen and
unhappy. This was the wound itself; this was a thought he had lived with. "Duke's men, you mean?"

"They told me before I left Dimilioc that the King was to confirm young Cador as Duke of Cornwall.
That's one man, Ralf, who will have no love for you. He won't stop to consider that you were the
Duchess's man, and were serving her as you were bidden. He is full of hatred, and it might extend to
vengeance. One could hardly blame him if it did."

He looked faintly surprised, then in some odd way set at ease by this dispassionate handling. After a bit
he said, with an attempt at the same tone: "They might have been Cador's men, I suppose. There was
nothing to show it, one way or the other. Maybe I'll remember something." He paused. "But surely, if
Cador intended to kill me, he could have cut me down inCornwall . Why come all the way here? To
follow me to you? He must hate you as much."

"More," I said. "But if he had intended to kill me, he knew where to find me; the whole world knows
that. And he'd have come before this."

He eyed me doubtfully. Then he appeared to find an explanation for my apparent lack of fear. "I
suppose no one would dare come after you here, for fear of your magic?"

"It would be nice to think so," I agreed. There was no point in telling him how thin my defenses were.
"Now, that's enough for the moment. Rest again, and you'll find you feel better tomorrow. Will you sleep,
do you think? Are you in pain?"

"No," he said, not truthfully. Pain was a weakness he would not admit to me. I stooped and felt for the
heartbeat in his wrist. It was strong and even. I let the wrist drop, and nodded at him. "You'll live. Call
me in the night if you want me. Good night."


Ralf did not in fact remember anything more next morning that would give a clue to the identity of his
attackers, and I forbore for a few days from questioning him further about the contents of Marcia's letter.
Then one evening, when I judged he was better, I called him to me. It had been a damp day, and the