"Sara Douglass - The Axis Trilogy 1 - BattleAxe" - читать интересную книгу автора (Douglass Sara)

generations since anyone has reliably spotted any of the Forbidden Ones that,
for all we know, these reports might be occasioned only by superstitious
peasants frightened by rabbits gambolling at dusk."
Gilbert rubbed his tonsured head anxiously and glanced across at Moryson,
Jayme s senior assistant and first adviser, before speaking again. "But so many
of these reports come from our own brothers, Brother-Leader."
Jayme resisted the impulse to retort that most of the brothers in the
northern Retreat of Gorkentown, where many of these reports originated, were
little more than superstitious peasants themselves. But Gilbert was young, and
had never travelled far from the glamour and cultivation of Carlon, or the pious
and intellectual atmosphere of the Tower of the Seneschal where he had been
educated and admitted into holy orders to serve Artor.
And Jayme himself feared that it was more than rabbits that had frightened
his Gorkentown brethren. There were reports coming out of the small village of
Smyrton, far to the north-east, that needed to be considered as well.
Jayme sighed again and sat down in the comfortable chair at his desk. One
of the benefits of the highest religious office in the land were the physical
comforts of the Brother-Leader's quarters high in the Tower. Jayme was not
hypocritical enough to pretend that, at his age, his aching joints did not
appreciate the well-made and cushioned furniture, pleasing both to eye and to
body, that decorated his quarters. Nor did he pretend not to appreciate the fine
foods and the invitations to the best houses in Carlon. When he did not have to
attend to the administration of the Seneschal or to the social or religious duties
of his position, there for the stimulation of his mind were thousands of leather-
bound books lining the shelves of his quarters, with religious icons and portraits
collected over past generations decorating every other spare space of wall and
bringing some measure of peace and comfort to his soul. His bright blue eyes,
still sharp after so many years spent seeking out the sins of the Acharites,
travelled indulgently over one particularly fine representation of the Divine Artor
on the occasion that he had presented mankind with the gift of The Plough, a
gift that had enabled mankind to rise above the limits of barbarity and cultivate
both land and mind.
Brother Moryson, a tall, lean man with a deeply furrowed brow, regarded his
Brother-Leader with fondness and respect. They had known each other for many
decades, having both been appointed as the Seneschal's representatives to the
royal court in their youth. Later they had moved to the royal household itself.
Too many years ago, thought Moryson, looking at Jayme's hair and beard which
were now completely white. His own thin brown hair, he knew, had more than a
few speckles of grey.
When Jayme had finally accepted the position of Brother-Leader, a post he
would hold until his death, his first request had been that his old friend and
companion Moryson join him as first assistant and adviser. His second request,
one that upset many at court and in the royal household itself, was that his
protege, Axis, be appointed BattleAxe of the Axe-Wielders, the elite military and
crusading wing of the Seneschal. Fume as King Priam might, the Axe-Wielders
were under the control of the Seneschal, and within the Seneschal a Brother-
Leader's requests were as law. Royal displeasure notwithstanding, Axis had
become the youngest ever commander of the Axe-Wielders.
Moryson, who had kept out of the conversation to this point, stepped
forward, knowing Jayme was waiting for his advice. "Brother-Leader," he said,