"David Drake - Belisarius 1 - An Oblique Approach" - читать интересную книгу автора (Drake David)

grimace of a gargoyle. A moment later, he collapsed.

For two full days, Michael lay unconscious in the cave. He breathed, and his
heart beat, but his mind was lost in vision.
On the third day, Michael of Macedonia awoke. Instantly awoke. Alert, fully
conscious, and not weak. (Or, at least, not weak in spirit. His body bore the
weakness which comes from years of self-deprivation and ferocious
austerities.)
Without hesitating, Michael reached out his hand and seized purpose. He feared
yet another paroxysm, but his need to understand overrode his fear. And, in
the event, his fear proved unfounded.
purpose, its raw power now refracted through many facets, was able to control
its outburst. purpose, now, was also duration. And though the time which it
found in the monk's mind was utterly strange, it absorbed the confusion. For
duration was now also diversity, and so purpose was able to parcel itself out,
both in its sequence and its differentiation. Facets opened up, and spread,
and doubled, and tripled, and multiplied, and multiplied again, and again,
until they were like a crystalline torrent which bore the monk along like a
chip of wood on a raging river.
The river reached the delta, and the delta melted into the sea, and all was
still. purpose rested in the palm of Michael's hand, shimmering like moonlight
on water, and the monk returned that shimmer with a smile.
"I thank you," he said, "for ending the years of my search. Though I cannot
thank you for the end you have brought me."
He closed his eyes for a moment, lost in thought. Then murmured: "I must seek
counsel with my friend the bishop. If there is any man on earth who can guide
me now, it will be Anthony."
His eyes opened. He turned his head toward the entrance of the cave and glared
at the bright Syrian day beyond.
"The Beast is upon us."

PROLOGUE
That night, Belisarius was resting in the villa which he had purchased upon
receiving command of the army at Daras. He was not there often, for he was a
general who believed in staying with his troops. He had purchased the villa
for the benefit of his wife Antonina, whom he had married two years before,
that she might have a comfortable residence in the safety of Aleppo, yet still
not be far from the Persian border where the general took his post.
The gesture had been largely futile, for Antonina insisted on accompanying
Belisarius even in the brawl and squalor of a military camp. She was well-nigh
inseparable from him, and in truth, the general did not complain. For,
whatever else was mysterious to men about the quicksilver mind of Belisarius,
one thing was clear as day: he adored his wife.
It was an unfathomable adoration, to most. True, Antonina possessed a lively
and attractive personality. (To those, at least, who had not the misfortune of
drawing down her considerable temper.) And, she was very comely. On this point
all agreed, even her many detractors: though considerably older than her
husband, Antonina bore her years well.
But what years they had been! Oh, the scandal of it all.
Her father had been a charioteer, one of those raucous men idolized by the