"Yarbro,.Chelsea.Quinn.-.Olivia.02.-.Crusader's.Torch.(V1.0)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Yarbro Chelsea Quinn)

"If you will not get too near," Olivia said in a penetrating voice, "he will remain calm. The animal is terrified, and small wonder."
"He will hurt you, lady," said one of the slaves.
"No, he won't, not if you are sensible," she said, keeping her weight on the neck and head of the horse. The odor of his sweat was everywhere. "He'll be all right shortly, but not if you let him up right now." She spoke to the slaves in much the same tone she would use on the horse, firm and confident but not too loud. "Stand back, and I'll get him up for you. No one is to make sudden moves."
"Widow!" Dar called out from the edge of the crowd.
"Remain where you are, Bonsier," she told him as she crawled up the neck to the horse's head. Only when she was certain she could stand up in front of the animal did she rise, and stepped back as the horse got to his feet, still breathing hard and wet, but no longer insane. Olivia signaled to the nearer of the two slaves. "Hand me a rope," she said, watching the horse closely.
"You cannot manage, lady," said the nearer slave. "Let us bring whips."
"I've done better than the two of you," she reminded him. "Give me a rope and step back."
The horse shook his head, his eyes showing white; he arched his neck, ears forward, legs stiff.
"He's going to attack," warned the nearer slave.
"Not quite yet," said Olivia. "Hand me a rope. Now."
The slave hesitated; a sailor came forward and offered Olivia a length of rough hemp, which she took at once. She stepped nearer the horse, staying to the side so that he could see her, and eased the rope over his neck. "Stand still," she said quietly, calmly.
"He is maddened, lady," the slave pleaded.
"He is frightened," Olivia corrected as she looped the rope under his neck. "If everyone will move away, I will give him back to the slaves who should not have let him go in the first place." This last, pointed remark was heard with mixed feelings.
"LadyЕ" the slave with the bruises began. "He will bolt."
"He will not," she said, holding the makeshift lead in a steady hand. She glanced down and saw that Alfaze had got free of the wreckage of her palinquin, but that her other bearer was tangled in the carrying staves. There was blood on his head. "I am going to lead him away from my slaves," she announced, and moved slowly, coaxing the horse as she went.
"HeЧ" the bruised slave began.
"Stand back and be silent," Olivia said sharply. "Do not speak to me again."
Someone in the crowd whooped; the horse brought his head up and made a sound like a cough as he arched his neck.
"Be silent, I pray you," Olivia said with a calm she did not truly feel. "All of you be silent." She patted his high shoulder. "Come, fellow. Come along." It was a tricky business leading the horse along the wharf. Every noise made him tremble and falter. Olivia held onto the rope and hoped she would not be tested again.
She had nearly reached the usciere when a man in herald's livery of Austria came down from the ship, relief in his face. He watched Olivia with a degree of surprise. "You caught him?"
"Yes," said Olivia, bowing her head in courtesy to the herald's master. "Is he one of yours?"
"Part of a grant to the Templars," said the herald. "I am to deliver them with the compliments of Leopold of Austria." He indicated the arms on his tabard.
Olivia gave her makeshift lead over to a groom with Leopold's badge on his arm. "Very generous of Leopold," she said, aware that she was behaving improperly to speak to the man at all. "I am certain the Templars will be grateful."
"It is prudent," said the herald in a pointed way. "I thank you for your efforts."
Olivia accepted the thanks with a slight smile. "In future you might take greater care in handling those horses. Stallions are worst of all." She started to turn away, then looked back at the herald. "One of my slaves was badly hurt by the horse and my palinquin was ruined. Will you offer recompense, or must I go to the Templars for that?" It was a risk to challenge the herald in this way; Olivia waited for his answer, hoping that she would not be dismissed or upbraided for her request.
"Your slave was hurt?" the herald asked.
"One of my palinquin bearers. He was unconscious when I left him. He may still be unconscious. And I am without my palinquin to return to my house." She stood very straight and her hazel eyes met the herald's uncompromisingly.
The herald hesitated. "You will have escort back to your house, of course," he said heavily. "That is the least that I can offer. As to the slaveЧ"
"The Court of Bourgesses will assess you the cost of his treatment, if you require that I approach them," she told him coolly. Her initial trepidation was fading.
The herald reacted as if a glove had been flung at him. "It will not be necessary," he said with icy propriety. "Who have I the honor of addressing?"
Olivia gave her name. "I am Roman," she said, "and a widow."
"Widow?" the herald inquired, his lifted eyebrow revealing his skepticism. "With a palinquin and slaves. How fortunate."
She ignored the insult. "Who wishes to return to Roma, and finds it more difficult than anticipated."
The herald's stiffness abated a little. "The Pope has called for another Crusade. It is not easy to arrange such matters in such times."
"So I have discovered." She looked toward the groom, who had haltered and tied the stallion. "You had best walk him," she suggested. "Otherwise he is going to break away again, and I will not remain here to assist you." Before the herald could speak, she addressed him. "IЕ inherited a breeding stable, and learned much there." Let the man think her husband had willed her the stable, Olivia thought scathingly. Sanct' Germain would not mind the small mendacity; it was close enough to the truth, for the breeding stable had been a legacy from him.
"IЕ have no doubt, Bondama," said the herald, his voice now respectful.
"My escort?" Olivia demanded, adding, "I am in the company of Bonsier Dar, of Spain. He will accompany me back to my house as soon as you provide me with suitable company." Now that she had achieved so much, she pressed her advantage. "I would appreciate it if you would have my injured slave taken to the Hospitalers and my palinquin replaced."
"Most assuredly," said the herald, clapping to summon aid. "They are esquires, Bondama," he informed Olivia as four youths hurried off the ship. "All are of high family."
"As fits the company of heralds," said Olivia, barely nodding in their direction. "Very well. I wish to leave at once. It isn't seemly for me to stand here where I am exposed to every eye." It was what she was expected to say, not what she believed, for the restrictions placed upon her galled her most of the time and she was enjoying this little sip of freedom.
The herald opened his hands to show his helplessness. "You have only to tell these esquires where you live, andЧ"
"But we don't know where she lives," one of the young men whispered to the herald in his own language. "How are we to escort her ifЧ?"
Olivia interrupted, her German Latin-accented. "My slave who is not injured will show you the way."
The esquire flushed and the herald craned his neck as if the neck of his camisade had grown tight. Making a point of speaking in Norman French, as he had been from the first, the herald said to Olivia, "On behalf of these esquires, I offer apology for any distress you have suffered on our account."
"I am pleased to forgive you," said Olivia, following the custom.
Ithuriel Dar had made his way to her side; he stood a little behind her, reluctant to bring attention on himself. He said in a low voice, "Your slaves are waiting for you. The eunuchЧ"
"Alfaze," Olivia said.
"Yes; he said the other slave is badly hurt."
Olivia shook her head, her brows drawing together. "It's all such a waste. If these fools had known more about that horse none of this would have happened."
The herald had come forward with the esquires and waited impatiently to finish his dealings with Olivia. "Bondama," he said as soon as the opportunity presented itself.
"Yes?" Olivia asked, then nodded to the herald. "I will want word of my slave as soon as the Hospitalers can provide it. Bonsier Dar, give me your company."