"P. N. Elrod & Nigel Bennett - His Father's Son" - читать интересную книгу автора (Elrod P N)

“I thank you, but no. Be off to your bed.”
He stared at Richard for a moment.
Richard met his gaze calmly, but felt a twinge of doubt within. Does he see the change in me?
If he did, he kept it to himself and quickly departed the way he’d come, leaving the door ajar. As he
hastened along, Richard’s sensitive hearing followed the whisper of his footsteps, probably back to the
stinking smoky warmth of a pallet by the kitchen hearth.
Then another kind of sound came forth from the entry and suddenly two of the castle’s great hounds
bounded noisily into the feasting hall to scavenge the leavings. They were huge hunting beasts, and Richard
knew them both well; he’d been right there in the stable at their whelping. He’d watched their growth from
clumsy pups to graceful adults and trained them himself for the chasing down of game in the forests.
They’d often been his only companions for many long weeks at a time. Of all things and people living in his
father’s castle, these hounds were the only souls he could trust and count as friends.
He clapped his hands and gave a short whistle. “Merlin! Prince!”
The two dogs checked in mid-bound, recognizing the voice, looking around for its owner in the dimness.
“Prince! Merlin! Here, lads, here.” Richard stepped forward, hands out as the animals whined an
anxious greeting and tore over the flags toward him, tongues lolling as though from laughter. “Come to heel,
come on.”
Merlin reached him first. Richard was almost close enough to touch the massive head, but paused at an
unexpected shift in the dog’s reaction to him. Merlin froze an instant, then backed away so quickly that he
blundered into Prince, halting him in turn.
Both dogs milled in confusion, sniffing and growling at Richard before settling into a guarded stance. The
hair along their backs stood straight on end, and they lowered their heads threateningly. With ears laid flat,
teeth bared and snarling, they were primed for the kill.
Instinctively, Richard backed away, hefting a heavy wooden stool as defense. The dogs had recognized
him; what was wrong? Had they gone mad, inexplicably perceiving him as an enemy? He’d seen the
damage that these two could inflict many times and wanted none of it. Who had turned them against him?
He spoke their names again, firmly, not letting the alarm he felt color his voice. Instead, he brought to his
tone all the displeasure he could muster, slamming the stool on the floor with a bang. He held fast to it,
though, in case his ploy at dominance failed.
The noise startled them, and his voice seemed to break through before they could charge. First one then
the other stopped and began to whine piteously, eyes averted, as though afraid to look at him. They spun
around uncertainly, tails between their legs, urinating in fright. Richard lowered the stool and took a step
forward, speaking softly. Perhaps his new clothing had masked his familiar scent. But the dogs backed
away from him, yelping with fear, then turned tail and fled.
He stared open-mouthed at their retreat, then belatedly understood the why of it. With the cold breath of
the Hounds of Annwyn forever upon him, what other reaction could he expect from ordinary canines?
Merlin and Prince had sensed the difference all too sharply. What surprised Richard was the enormity of
the hurt he felt from their unexpected rejection. Sabra had not warned him about this particular price for his
change.
Perhaps this won’t be as easy as I thought.
He released his hold on the stool and finally seated himself on it rather than pace the filthy floor. He
stared at the entry where the dogs had retreated, mourning their loss. He’d have had to leave them behind,
anyway, for all in the castle and lands around -belonged to the duke, but this wasn’t the sort of parting
-Richard might have wished for.
Richard had tenuously held his place in the household by strength of arms, bringing honor to the family
name with each victory. That had ended with his defeat at the tourney, though, and he knew exactly why
he’d been summoned. It was time for the duke to give his hated child a final censure and banish -Richard
from his house with less consideration and far more rancor than would be heaped upon the lowliest of the
servants.
Richard watched the shadows cast by the candle flame twist and jump in the draughty air, remembering