"Gordon R. Dickson - Dragon Knight 08 - The Dragon in Lyonesse" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dickson Gordon R)

“Oh, well,” said Jim, “it’s nice to get good news this early, that’s the important thing. Makes the day;
and I think this is going to be a good one. Why don’t we forget everything here, for once, and go for a
stroll in the woods? After all, they’re our woods.”

“You’re always suggesting that, and then we never do it,” said Angie. “Besides, this isn’t a world where
you want to tempt fate by announcing what the future is going to be.”

“Now, don’t you, of all people, start overrating the magic they have here-“ said Jim.

“I’m just using common sense, that’s all.”

“Common sense or not. We could end up as superstitious as everybody else is here; and you and I
know that’s just ignorance. There’s got to be a logical reason for everything, even magic. Besides, I only
said-“

There was a scratching at the door to the spacious single room that was their Solar. That room had
originally taken in all the top floor, just under the battlemented roof of the Tower of Malencontri Castle;
until they had partitioned off part of it to make a separate room for the baby, Robert Falon, who was
now their ward.

They looked at each other.

“Come in!” called Jim. John Steward, erect, somewhat overstuffed, and just this side of being pompous
as usual-but oddly wide-eyed-entered.

“M’Lord, m’Lady,” he said stiffly, “the Master Archer Dafydd ap Hywel is in the Great Hall, and wishes
to speak with you.”

“Hall? Which hall?” echoed Jim-but there was really only one, unless you counted the large room,
hidden on the ground floor among the quarters where the servants and men-at-arms lived, where they ate
their meals, spent their leisure hours, and generally socialized. “How long has he been there? When did
he get here?”

John Steward’s heavy, pale, but meticulously shaven face took on an expression fleetingly divided
between fear and embarrassment.

“Nobody knows, m’Lord. He was just there at the High Table, working on a bowstave, when Mary
Light-the-Fire went in to start the wood in the Hall fireplaces.”

“Why didn’t somebody ask him?”

“No one thought of it, m’Lord.”

This was a lie, of course. Either Dafydd had been asked and the questioner wanted nothing to do with
the answer; or for some reason they had been afraid to ask. There was no point in pinning John
down-probably superstition again, thought Jim.

“Well, how long had be been there? Did they find that out?”

“No, m’Lord.”