"Guns Of Avalon 05" - читать интересную книгу автора (Varley John)

She put a bottle beside my place and carefully unwrapped two crystal goblets, which she then set in the center of the cloth.
I moved to my place and sat down.
"That is Benedict's best crystal," I noted, as I opened the bottle.
"Yes," she said. "Do be careful not to upset them when you pour-and I don't think we should clink them together."
"No, I don't think we should," I said, and I poured. She raised her glass.
"To the reunion," she said.
"What reunion?"
"Ours." "I have never met you before."
"Don't be so prosaic," she said, and took a drink.
I shrugged. "To the reunion."
She began to eat then, so I did too. She was so enjoying the air of mystery she had created that I wanted to cooperate, just to keep her happy.
"Now where could I have met you?" I ventured. "Was it some great court? A harem, perhaps . . . ?"
"Perhaps it was in Amber," she said. "There you were . . ." ,
"Amber?" I said, remembering that I was holding Benedict's crystal and confining my emotions to my voice. "Just who are you, anyway?"
". . . There you were-handsome, conceited, admired by all the ladies," she continued, "and there I was- a mousy little thing, admiring you from afar. Gray, or pastel-not vivid-little Dara-a late bloomer, I hasten to add-eating her heart out for you-" I muttered a mild obscenity and she laughed again. "That wasn't it?" she asked.
"No," I said, taking another bite of beef and bread. "More likely it was that brothel where I sprained my back. I was drunk that night-"
"You remember!" she cried. "It was a part-time job. I used to break horses during the day."
"I give up," I said, and I poured more wine.
The really irritating thing was that there was something damnably familiar about her. But from her appearance and her behavior, I guessed her age at about seventeen. This pretty much precluded our paths ever having crossed.
"Did Benedict teach you your fencing?" I asked.
"Yes."
"What is he to you?"
"My lover, of course," she replied. "He keeps me in jewels and furs-and he fences with me." She laughed again.
I continued to study her face. Yes, it was possible. . .. "I am hurt," I said, finally.
"Why?" she asked.
"Benedict didn't give me a cigar."
"Cigar?"
"You are his daughter, aren't you?"
She reddened, but she shook her head. "No," she said. "But you are getting close."
"Granddaughter?" I said. "Well... sort of."
"I am afraid that I do not understand."
"Grandfather is what he likes me to call him. Actually, though, he was my grandmother's father."
"I see. Are there any others at home like you?"
"No, I am the only one."
"What of your mother-and your grandmother?"
"Dead, both of them."
"How did they die?"
"Violently. Both times it happened while he was back in Amber. I believe that is why he has not returned there for a long while now. He does not like to leave me unprotected-even though he knows that I can take care of myself. You know that I can, too, don't you?"
I nodded. It explained several things, one of them being why he was Protector here. He had to keep her somewhere, and he certainly would not want to take her back to Amber. He would not even want her existence known to the rest of us. She could be made into an easy armlock. And it would be out of keeping to make me aware of her so readily.
So, "I do not believe that you are supposed to be here," I said, "and I feel that Benedict would be quite angry if he knew that you were."
"You are just the same as he isl I am an adult, damn it!"
"Have you heard me deny it? You are supposed to be someplace else, though, aren't you?"
She filled her mouth instead of answering. So I did, too. After several uncomfortable minutes of chewing, I decided to start on a fresh subject. "How did you recognize me?" I asked. She swallowed, took a drink of wine, grinned. "From your picture, of course," she said.
"What picture?"
"On the card," she said. "We used to play with them when I was very small. I learned all my relatives that way. You and Eric are the other good swordsmen, I knew that. That is why I-"
"You have a set of the Trumps?" I interrupted.
"No," she said, pouting. "He wouldn't give me a set -and I know he has several, too."
"Really? Where does he keep them?"
She narrowed her eyes, focusing them on my own. Damn! I hadn't meant to sound that eager.
But, "He has a set with him most of the time," she said, "and I have no idea where he keeps the others. Why? Won't he let you see them?"