"Zelazny, Roger - Amber 04 - Hand Of Oberon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Zelazny Roger)

"How long will he be away?"
"Probably overnight. Maybe a bit longer. If it is going to be much longer he will probably call back on someone's Trump, and we'll let you know."
My side began to throb and I rested my hand upon it, massaging it gently.
"Random has told me many things about you," she said.
I chuckled.
"Are you certain you would not care for something to eat? It would be no trouble."
"Did he tell you that I am always hungry?"
She laughed.
"No. But if you have been as active as you say, I would guess that you did not take time for lunch."
"In that you would be only half-correct. All right. If you've a spare piece of bread lying about it might do me some good to gnaw on it."
"Fine. Just a moment."
She rose and departed into the next room. I took the opportunity to scratch heartily all about my wound where it was suddenly itching fit to kill. I had accepted her hospitality partly for this reason and partly because of the realization that I actually was hungry. Only a little later it struck me that she could not have seen me attacking my side as I was. Her sure movements, her confident manner, had relaxed my awareness of her blindness. Good. It pleased me that she was able to carry it so well.
I heard her humming a tune: "The Ballad of the Water Crossers," the song of Amber's great merchant navy. Amber is not noted for manufacture, and agriculture has never been our forte. But our ships sail the shadows, plying between anywhere and anywhere, dealing in anything. Just about every male Amberite, noble or otherwise, spends some time in the fleet. Those of the blood laid down the trade routes long ago that other vessels might follow, the seas of a double dozen worlds in every captain's head. I had assisted in this in times gone by, and though my involvement had never been so deep as Gщrard's or Caine's, I had been mightily moved by the forces of the deep and the spirit of the men who crossed it.
After a while, Vialle came in bearing a tray heavy with bread, meat, cheese, fruit, and a flask of wine. She set it upon a table near at hand.
"You mean to feed a regiment?" I asked.
"Best to be safe."
"Thanks. Won't you join me?"
"A piece of fruit, perhaps," she said.
Her fingers sought for a second, located an apple. She returned to the divan.
"Random tells me you wrote that song," she said.
"That was a very long time ago, Vialle."
"Have you composed any recently?"
I began to shake my head, caught myself, said, "No. That part of me is.... resting."
"Pity. It is lovely."
"Random is the real musician in the family."
"Yes, he is very good. But performance and composition are two different things."
"True. One day when things have eased up... Tell me, are you happy here in Amber? Is everything to your liking? Is there anything that you need?"
She smiled.
"All that I need is Random. He is a good man."
I was strangely moved to hear her speak of him in this fashion.
"Then I am happy for you," I said. And, "Younger, smaller... he might have had it a bit rougher than the rest of us," I went on. "Nothing quite as useless as another prince when there is already a crowd of them about. I was as guilty as the rest. Bleys and I once stranded him for two days on an islet to the south of here..."
"...And Gщrard went and got him when he learned of it," she said. "Yes, he told me. It must bother you if you remember it after all this time."
"It must have made an impression on him, too."
"No, he forgave you long ago. He told it as a joke. Also, he drove a spike through the heel of your boot--pierced your foot when you put it on."
"Then it was Random! I'll be damned! I had always blamed Julian for that one."
"That one bothers Random."
"How long ago all of this was..." I said.
I shook my head and continued eating. Hunger seized me and she gave me several minutes of silence in which to get the upper hand on it. When I had, I felt compelled to say something.
"That is better. Much better," I began. "It was a peculiar and trying night that I spent in the skycity."
"Did you receive omens of a useful nature?"
"I do not know how useful they might prove. On the other hand, I suppose I'd rather have had them than not. Have there been any interesting happenings hereabouts?"
"A servant tells me your brother Brand continues to rally. He ate well this morning, which is encouraging."
"True," I said. "True. It would seem he is out of danger."
"Likely. It--it is a terrible series of happenings to which you have all been subjected. I am sorry. I was hoping you might obtain some indication of an upturn in your affairs during the night you spent in Tir-na Nog'th."
"It does not matter," I said. "I am not that sure of the value of the thing."
"Then why--Oh."
I studied her with renewed interest. Her face still betrayed nothing, but her right hand twitched, tapping and plucking at the material of the divan. Then, as with a sudden awareness of its eloquence, she stilled it. She was obviously a person who had answered her own question and wished now she had done it in silence.
"Yes," I said, "I was stalling. You are aware of my injury."
She nodded.
"I am not angry with Random for having told you," I said. "His judgment has always been acute and geared to defense. I see no reason not to rely on it myself. I must inquire as to how much he has told you, however, both for your own safety and my peace of mind. For there are things I suspect but have not yet spoken."