[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
smile.
Chasing him is likely going to scare him worse, the old knight started in,
but someone put a hand on his shoulder to silence him.
Gavril frowned. He d had enough advice from that quarter. Good night to you,
sir knights, he said with gracious courtesy. Good Aelintide as well.
They bowed, chorusing, Good Aelintide, your highness.
I will wish you luck, also, in tomorrow s games and melee.
Sir Terent s smile vanished, and again an uncomfortable silence fell over the
room.
There will be none.
Gavril stared in fresh surprise. No contests?
Not while our lord lies so gravely ill.
I see. Gavril felt his face growing hot again. He tried to hide his
discomfiture by adjusting the heavy folds of his cloak. Well, then, let us be
glad there is still to be a feast.
He turned to go, and Sir Los hurried ahead of him to thrust open the door.
Wait, your highness! Sir Terent called after him.
Gavril turned back to see the knight coming with the keg.
No, Gavril said, lifting his hand. Keep my gift.
We cannot accept it, Sir Terent said.
You said you will not drink it until Lord Odfrey is well. Gavril forced a
smile to his lips, still desirous of addicting the company to this wondrous
mead so that their allegiance would thereafter belong to him. Save it until
that time, then drink it in celebration.
Some of the knights lifted merry cheers, but Sir Terent still looked troubled.
Lord
Odfrey disapproves of strong drink.
It s fine mead, Gavril said. But if you wish, feed it to the swine.
Page 127
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Mierre stepped forward, looking red-faced and shy before the men. It s not
polite to refuse a gift from the prince, he muttered in warning.
Sir Terent, thus crudely informed of proper protocol, blinked and stepped
back.
Forgive me, he said in haste. I meant no offense to your highness.
None is taken, Gavril said sweetly. Good night. He walked out, his small
entourage trailing behind him. With every crunching step across the frozen mud
of the stable-yard, his iron control slipped another notch. Seething, he
whirled at last and struck Sir Los in the chest with his fist. The blow banged
against Sir Los s hauberk, hurting Gavril s hand, but he was too furious to
care.
You knew, he said in a low spiteful voice. You knew about the eld and you
said nothing. You knew about their oaths, and you warned me not. If I were
home in
Savroix, I d have your ears and tongue cut as a reward for such service.
Sir Los stared at him through the darkness. I am your knight protector. I
guard your life with my own. Would you chase the eld yourself and risk being
burned or killed with his spellcraft? Better to let the knights catch him.
Better for your highness to stay far away from him. He would have done you
harm that day in the marsh.
Despite his anger, Gavril knew his protector s words were true. He drew in an
angry breath, his chest heaving, then spun about on his heel and strode off
without another word.
The others followed him in silence. After a moment he reached out and gripped
Mierre by his muscular arm. You will catch him, he said in a voice like
iron. You will trap him and bring him to me. You and Kaltienne work at this.
Aye, your highness, Mierre said.
Gavril listened for any sound of doubt or cowardice, but Mierre sounded as
confident as always. You do not fear his spellcraft? Gavril asked.
Not much, Mierre said. My grandsire sometimes had eldin come about the
place when I was little. They were always gentle.
This one isn t, Gavril warned him.
I ll catch him. Worry not, Mierre said. Besides, I know how to ward him
off, if I
have to.
Gavril frowned in the darkness. As he strode into the paved courtyard, he saw
that the chapel lights had gone dark. All was still and quiet. It must be
late, he knew. He had stayed too long with the knights.
He started to warn Mierre against using the old ways, for such were forbidden,
but then he bit his tongue. For once he would look the other way and pretend
he did not understand what Mierre meant.
It s for the Chalice, he assured his conscience.
Be quick about it, if you can, he said at last. We have free rein only
while the chevard lies ill. If he recovers, we ll be back in chores, unable to
come and go as we please.
Aye, this is better, Mierre agreed with a grin. Your highness?
Yes?
What about some of that mead for ourselves? We deserve it, after all we ve
done.
Gavril spun about and struck Mierre across the face, too furious to govern
himself
this time. It s not for you! he shouted. Not for anyone but whom I say.
Holding his cheek, Mierre took a cautious step back. His green eyes were
suddenly flat and sullen. I beg your high-ness s pardon, he said.
Gavril took several ragged breaths before he could haul his temper back under
control. Not the mead, he said at last, his voice more its normal tone.
Never the mead. Is that clearly understood? Never.
Page 128
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Aye, your highness.
We ll share wine or ale ... later. Tomorrow perhaps, if you bring me the
eld. Gavril s voice was still unsteady. He turned away from Mierre, appalled
by how close he could come to disaster if the wrong people got into that mead.
It was no brew for anyone except those Gavril wanted to master. He must take
care to keep the fosters well away from it. I think, Gavril said, that you
had better leave me now.
Mierre bowed and ran off across the courtyard. Gavril lingered a moment,
gulping in cold air to clear his head. Sir Los dismissed the gawking servant
with a gesture and waited in patient silence.
Finally Gavril turned his steps toward the deserted chapel, where the last of
the incense still wafted from the brazier hanging outside the door. Gavril
stepped into the shadowy interior, which was lit only by a few votives
flickering on the altar. The domed ceiling rose overhead into shadows, its
gilding reflecting small glints of candlelight. It was painted with a scene of
Tomias the Prophet at the Sacred Well.
Gavril paid no attention to the ceiling painting, which he considered crudely
drawn and ill-colored by whatever local artisans Lord Odfrey had employed. His
heart was not stirred by the carvings on the altar, for they had a flavor of
the old ways. Instead, he focused his gaze on the large Circle of gilded brass
hanging above the altar. As always, the sight of the cheap Circle annoyed him.
Lord Odfrey, he felt, should spend the money for a Circle of solid gold.
Sighing, Gavril sought to clear his mind. This evening he had been crossed by
many temptations. He needed a cleansed heart in order to keep his vows and the
path he had chosen.
Genuflecting, Gavril pressed his face against the floor and began to pray.
Shivering in the shadows, his breath steaming about his face, Dain watched the
prince enter the small chapel, his elegant, cloaked figure momentarily
silhouetted as the door swung open to admit him. The prince s protector
followed him, then all lay quiet beneath the hand of darkness. Dain had heard
every word of the conversation between
Prince Gavril and the larger boy called Mierre. He understood that they
intended to catch him. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl fopke.keep.pl
smile.
Chasing him is likely going to scare him worse, the old knight started in,
but someone put a hand on his shoulder to silence him.
Gavril frowned. He d had enough advice from that quarter. Good night to you,
sir knights, he said with gracious courtesy. Good Aelintide as well.
They bowed, chorusing, Good Aelintide, your highness.
I will wish you luck, also, in tomorrow s games and melee.
Sir Terent s smile vanished, and again an uncomfortable silence fell over the
room.
There will be none.
Gavril stared in fresh surprise. No contests?
Not while our lord lies so gravely ill.
I see. Gavril felt his face growing hot again. He tried to hide his
discomfiture by adjusting the heavy folds of his cloak. Well, then, let us be
glad there is still to be a feast.
He turned to go, and Sir Los hurried ahead of him to thrust open the door.
Wait, your highness! Sir Terent called after him.
Gavril turned back to see the knight coming with the keg.
No, Gavril said, lifting his hand. Keep my gift.
We cannot accept it, Sir Terent said.
You said you will not drink it until Lord Odfrey is well. Gavril forced a
smile to his lips, still desirous of addicting the company to this wondrous
mead so that their allegiance would thereafter belong to him. Save it until
that time, then drink it in celebration.
Some of the knights lifted merry cheers, but Sir Terent still looked troubled.
Lord
Odfrey disapproves of strong drink.
It s fine mead, Gavril said. But if you wish, feed it to the swine.
Page 127
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Mierre stepped forward, looking red-faced and shy before the men. It s not
polite to refuse a gift from the prince, he muttered in warning.
Sir Terent, thus crudely informed of proper protocol, blinked and stepped
back.
Forgive me, he said in haste. I meant no offense to your highness.
None is taken, Gavril said sweetly. Good night. He walked out, his small
entourage trailing behind him. With every crunching step across the frozen mud
of the stable-yard, his iron control slipped another notch. Seething, he
whirled at last and struck Sir Los in the chest with his fist. The blow banged
against Sir Los s hauberk, hurting Gavril s hand, but he was too furious to
care.
You knew, he said in a low spiteful voice. You knew about the eld and you
said nothing. You knew about their oaths, and you warned me not. If I were
home in
Savroix, I d have your ears and tongue cut as a reward for such service.
Sir Los stared at him through the darkness. I am your knight protector. I
guard your life with my own. Would you chase the eld yourself and risk being
burned or killed with his spellcraft? Better to let the knights catch him.
Better for your highness to stay far away from him. He would have done you
harm that day in the marsh.
Despite his anger, Gavril knew his protector s words were true. He drew in an
angry breath, his chest heaving, then spun about on his heel and strode off
without another word.
The others followed him in silence. After a moment he reached out and gripped
Mierre by his muscular arm. You will catch him, he said in a voice like
iron. You will trap him and bring him to me. You and Kaltienne work at this.
Aye, your highness, Mierre said.
Gavril listened for any sound of doubt or cowardice, but Mierre sounded as
confident as always. You do not fear his spellcraft? Gavril asked.
Not much, Mierre said. My grandsire sometimes had eldin come about the
place when I was little. They were always gentle.
This one isn t, Gavril warned him.
I ll catch him. Worry not, Mierre said. Besides, I know how to ward him
off, if I
have to.
Gavril frowned in the darkness. As he strode into the paved courtyard, he saw
that the chapel lights had gone dark. All was still and quiet. It must be
late, he knew. He had stayed too long with the knights.
He started to warn Mierre against using the old ways, for such were forbidden,
but then he bit his tongue. For once he would look the other way and pretend
he did not understand what Mierre meant.
It s for the Chalice, he assured his conscience.
Be quick about it, if you can, he said at last. We have free rein only
while the chevard lies ill. If he recovers, we ll be back in chores, unable to
come and go as we please.
Aye, this is better, Mierre agreed with a grin. Your highness?
Yes?
What about some of that mead for ourselves? We deserve it, after all we ve
done.
Gavril spun about and struck Mierre across the face, too furious to govern
himself
this time. It s not for you! he shouted. Not for anyone but whom I say.
Holding his cheek, Mierre took a cautious step back. His green eyes were
suddenly flat and sullen. I beg your high-ness s pardon, he said.
Gavril took several ragged breaths before he could haul his temper back under
control. Not the mead, he said at last, his voice more its normal tone.
Never the mead. Is that clearly understood? Never.
Page 128
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Aye, your highness.
We ll share wine or ale ... later. Tomorrow perhaps, if you bring me the
eld. Gavril s voice was still unsteady. He turned away from Mierre, appalled
by how close he could come to disaster if the wrong people got into that mead.
It was no brew for anyone except those Gavril wanted to master. He must take
care to keep the fosters well away from it. I think, Gavril said, that you
had better leave me now.
Mierre bowed and ran off across the courtyard. Gavril lingered a moment,
gulping in cold air to clear his head. Sir Los dismissed the gawking servant
with a gesture and waited in patient silence.
Finally Gavril turned his steps toward the deserted chapel, where the last of
the incense still wafted from the brazier hanging outside the door. Gavril
stepped into the shadowy interior, which was lit only by a few votives
flickering on the altar. The domed ceiling rose overhead into shadows, its
gilding reflecting small glints of candlelight. It was painted with a scene of
Tomias the Prophet at the Sacred Well.
Gavril paid no attention to the ceiling painting, which he considered crudely
drawn and ill-colored by whatever local artisans Lord Odfrey had employed. His
heart was not stirred by the carvings on the altar, for they had a flavor of
the old ways. Instead, he focused his gaze on the large Circle of gilded brass
hanging above the altar. As always, the sight of the cheap Circle annoyed him.
Lord Odfrey, he felt, should spend the money for a Circle of solid gold.
Sighing, Gavril sought to clear his mind. This evening he had been crossed by
many temptations. He needed a cleansed heart in order to keep his vows and the
path he had chosen.
Genuflecting, Gavril pressed his face against the floor and began to pray.
Shivering in the shadows, his breath steaming about his face, Dain watched the
prince enter the small chapel, his elegant, cloaked figure momentarily
silhouetted as the door swung open to admit him. The prince s protector
followed him, then all lay quiet beneath the hand of darkness. Dain had heard
every word of the conversation between
Prince Gavril and the larger boy called Mierre. He understood that they
intended to catch him. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]