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

its legends and its old magic."
"Or else," said Morwin, "the Fair Folk have turned Christian. Though Fve never
heard that any of them could bear either holy water or co!d iron."
"This one can." Brother Alfred flexed his long fingers and folded them tightly
in his lap. "But to take a high place in the Church or in the world . . . no.
Anywhere but here, I would have gone to the stake long ago. Even here, not all
the Brothers are sure that I'm not some sort of superior devil."
Morwin bristled. "Who dares to think that?"
"None so bold that he voices his doubts, or even thinks them, often."
"He had better not!"
Alf smiled and shook his head. "You were always too fierce in my defense."
"And a good thing too. I've pulled you out of many a broil, from the first
time I saw the other novices make a butt of you."
"So much trouble for a few harmless words."
"Harmless! It was getting down to sticks and stones when I came by."
"They were only trying to frighten me," Alf said. "But that's years past. We
must truly be old if we can care so much for what happened so long ago."
"Don't be so kind. It's me, and you know it. I've always been one to bear a
grudge-the worse for my soul." Morwin rose and stood with his hands clasped
behind his back. "Alf. Someday sooner or later, I'm going to face my Maker.
And when I do that, I want to be sure I've left St. Ruan's in good hands." Alf
would have spoken, but he shook his head. "I know, Alf. You've refused every
office anyone has tried to give you and turned down the abbacy three times.
The more fool you; each time, the second choice has been far inferior. I don't
want that to happen again."
"Morwin. You know it must."
"Why?"
THE ISLE OF GLASS
Brother Alfred stood, paler even than usual, and spread his arms. "Look at
me!"
Morwin's jaw set. "I'm looking," he said grimly. "I've looked nearly every day
for sixty years."
"What do you see?"
"The one man I'd trust to take the abbacy and to keep it as it should be
kept."
"Man, Morwin? Do you think I am a man? Come. You alone can see me as I truly
am. If you will."
The Abbot found that he could not look away. His friend stood in front of him,
very tall and very pale, his eyes wide with something close to despair.
Strange eyes, palest gold like his hair and pupiled like a cat's.
"You see," said Alf. "Remember what else had the novices calling me devil and
witch's get. My way with beasts and with men. My little conjuring tricks." He
gathered a handful of fire and shadow, plaited it into a long strange-gleaming
strand, and tossed it to Morwin. The other caught it reflexively, and it was
solid, a length of cord at once shadow-cool and fire-hot. "And finally,
Morwin, old friend, how old am I?"
"Two or three years younger than I."
"And how old do I look?"
Morwin scowled and twisted the cord in his hands, and said nothing.
"How old did Earl Rogier think I was when he brought Jehan to St. Ruan's? How