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

Bruises on the young heal quickly, and Ralf was soon active again, and insistent that he no longer needed
doctoring. The wound on his hip, however, gave some trouble, and left him limping for a week or two.

In "choosing" to stay with me, he had made the best of a bad job, since for the time being he was tied to
the cave by his injury and by the loss of his horse, but he served me well, mastering what resentment he
might yet feel towards me and his new position. He was silent still, but this suited me, and I went quietly
about my affairs, while Ralf gradually fell into my ways, and we got along tolerably well together.
Whatever he thought of my quarters in the cave, and the menial tasks which between us we had to do, he
made it clear that he was a page serving a prince. Somehow, through the days that followed, I found
myself relieved, bit by bit, of burdensome work which I had begun to take for granted; I had leisure again
to study, to replenish my store of medicines, even to make music. It was strange at first, and then in some
way comforting, to lie wakeful in the night and hear the boy's untroubled breathing from the other side of
the cave. After a while, I found I was sleeping better; as the nightmares receded, strength and calmness
came back; and if power still withheld itself, I no longer despaired of its return.

As for Ralf, though I could see that he still fretted against his exile тАФ to which, of course, he could see
no clear end тАФ he was never less than courteous, and as time went on seemed to accept his banishment
with a better grace, and either lost or hid his unhappiness in a kind of contentment.

So the weeks went by, and the valley fields yellowed towards harvest, and the message came at last
from Tintagel. One evening in August, towards dusk, a messenger came spurring up the valley. Ralf was
not with me. I had sent him that afternoon across the hill to the hut where the shepherd, Abba, lived all
summer. I had been treating Abba's son Ban, who was simple, for a poisoned foot; this was almost
healed, but still needed salves.

I went out to meet the messenger. He had dismounted below the cliff, and now clambered up to the flat
alp in front of the cave. He was a young man, spruce and lively, and his horse was fresh. I guessed from
this that his message was not urgent; he had taken his time, and come at his ease. I saw him take in my
ragged robe and threadbare mantle in one swift, summing glance, but he doffed his cap and went on one
knee. I wondered if the salute was for the enchanter, or for the King's son.

"My lord Merlin." .

"You are welcome," I said. "From Tintagel?"

"Yes, sir. From the Queen." A quick upward glance. "I came privily, without the King's knowledge."

"So I had imagined, or you would have borne her badge. Get up, man. The grass is damp. Have you
had supper?"

He looked surprised. It was not thus, I reckoned, that most princes received their messengers. "Why,
no, sir, but I bespoke it at the inn."

"Then I won't keep you from it. I've no doubt it will be better than you'd get here. Well then, your
business? You've brought a letter from the Queen?"

"No letter, sir, just the message that the Queen desires to see you."

"Now?" I asked sharply. "Is there anything wrong with her, or with the child she bears?"