"Judith Tarr - The Isle of Glass" - читать интересную книгу автора (Tarr Judith)

This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this
book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely
coincidental.
THE ISLE OF GLASS Copyright ┬й 1985 by Judith Tarr
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions
thereof in any form.
Reprinted by arrangement with Bluejay Books First Tor printing: July 1986 A
TOR Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates 49 West 24 Street New York, N.Y. 10010
Cover art by Kevin Eugene Johnson
ISBN: 0-812-55600-3 CAN. ED.: 0-812-55601-1
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 85-1295 Printed in the United States
0987654321
For Meredith
"Quis est homoF
"Mattcipium mortis, transient viator, loci hospes."
-Alcuin of York
"What is a "The slave of death, the guest of an inn, a wayfarer passing."
-Helen Waddetl
"Brother Alf! Brother Alfred!"
It was meant to be a whisper, but it echoed through the library. Brother
Alfred looked up from his book, smiling a little as the novice halted panting
within an inch of the table. "What is it now, Jehan?" he asked. "A rescue? The
King himself come to drag you off to the wars?"
Jehan groaned. "Heaven help us! I just spent an hour explaining to Dom Morwin
why I want to stay here and take vows. Father wrote to him, you see, and said
that if I had to be a monk, I'd join the Knights Templar and not disgrace him
completely."
Brother Alfred's smile widened. "And what said our good Abbot?"
"That I'm a waste of good muscle." Jehan sighed and hunched his shoulders. It
did little good; they were still as broad as the front gate. "Brother Alf,
can't anybody but you see what's under hall?"
"Brother Osric says that you will make a tolerable theologian."
"Did he? Well. He told me today that I was a blockhead, and that Fd got to the
point where he'd have to turn me over to you."
"In the same breath?"
Judith Tarr
"Almost. But I'm forgetting. Dom Morwin wants to see you." Brother Alfred
closed his book. "And we've kept him waiting.
Someday, Jehan, we must both take vows of silence." "I could use it. But you?
Never. How could you teach?" "There are ways." Just as Brother Alfred turned
to go, he
paused. "Tomorrow, don't go to the schoolroom. Meet me here." Jehan's whoop
made no pretense of restraint.
There was a fire in the Abbot's study, and the Abbot stood in front of it,
warming his hands. He did not turn when Brother Alfred entered, but said, "The
weather's wild today."
The other sat in a chair nearby. "Fitting," he remarked. "You know what the
hill-folk say: On the Day of the Dead, demons ride."
The Abbot crossed himself quickly, with a wry smile. "Oh, it will be a night