"Courts of Chaos, The" - читать интересную книгу автора (Zelazny Roger)

"I get the impression that it is more a peremptory strike than a war."
"Only he did not bother to tell us what we are preempting."
Random shrugged, poured more wine.
"Perhaps he will say when he gets back. You did not get any special orders, did you?"
"Just to stand and wait. What about you?"
He shook his head.
"He said that when the time comes, I will know. At least with Julian, he told him to have his troops ready to move on a moment's notice."
"Oh? Aren't they staying in Arden?"
He nodded.
"When did he say this?"
"After you left. He trumped Julian up here to give him the message, and they rode off together. I heard Dad say that he would ride partway back with him."
"Did they take the eastern trail over Kolvir?"
"Yes. I saw them off."
"Interesting. What else did I miss?"
He shifted in his seat.
"The part that bothers me," he said. "After Dad had mounted and waved a good-bye, he looked back at me and said, 'And keep an eye on Martin.' "
"That is all?"
"That is all. But he was laughing as he said it."
"Just natural suspicion at a newcomer, I guess."
"Then why the laugh?"
"I give up."
I cut a piece of cheese and ate it.
"Might not be a bad idea, though. It might not be suspicion. Maybe he feels Martin needs to be protected from something. Or both. Or neither. You know how he sometimes is."
Random stood.
"I had not thought through to the alternative. Come with me now, huh?" he said. "You have been up here all morning."
"All right."
I got to my feet, buckled on Grayswandir.
"Where is Martin, anyway?"
"I left him down on the first floor. He was talking with Gerard"
"He is in good hands, then. Is Gerard going to be staying here, or will he be returning to the fleet?"
"I do not know. He would not discuss his orders."
We left the room. We headed for the stairway.
On the way down, I heard some small commotion from below and I quickened my pace.
I looked over the railing and saw a throng of guards at the entrance to the throne room, along with the massive figure of Gerard. All of them had their backs to us. I leaped down the final stairs. Random was not far behind me.
I pushed my way through.
"Gerard, what is happening?" I asked.
"Damned if I know," he said. "Look for yourself. But there is no getting in."
He moved aside and I took a step forward. Then another. And that was it. It was as if I were pushing against a slightly resilient, totally invisible wall. Beyond was a sight that tied my memory and feelings into a knot. I stiffened, as fear took hold of me by the neck, clasped my hands. No mean trick, that.
Martin, smiling, still held a Trump in his left hand, and Benedict-apparently recently summoned-stood before him. A girl was nearby, on the dais, beside the throne, facing away. Both men appeared to be speaking, but I could not hear the words.
Finally, Benedict turned and seemed to address the girl. After a time, she appeared to be answering him. Martin moved off to her left. Benedict mounted the dais as she spoke. I could see her face then. The exchange continued.
"That girl looks somewhat familiar," said Gerard, who had moved forward and now stood at my side.
"You might have gotten a glimpse of her as she rode past us," I told him, "the day Eric died. It's Dara."
I heard his sudden intake of breath.
"Dara!" he said. "Then you . . ." His voice faded.
"I was not lying," I said. "She is real."
"Martin!" cried Random, who had moved up on my right. "Martin! What's going on!"
There was no response.
"I dont think he can hear you," Gerard said. "This barrier seems to have cut us off completely."
Random strained forward, his hands pushing against something unseen.
"Let's all of us give it a shove," he said.