"C. S. Friedman - Coldfire 1 - Black Sun Rising" - читать интересную книгу автора (Friedman C. S)

monsters that the fae has brought to life, using man’s fear as a template . . . I
swore to fight those things, Reverend Vryce. At any cost to myself. I swore that
the fae would be tamed, according to the Prophet’s guidelines.”
“And then came a letter. From your Matriarch, your Holy Mother. Informing
me that the west had begun an investigation into how the fae might be
manipulated for Church purposes, by a chosen few trained toward that end.
Sorcery! Dress it up in holy silks as you will, it still stinks. I argued with her,
pleaded with her, I would have gone so far as to threaten her if I thought it
would do any good . . . but your Holy Mother is a headstrong woman, and her
mind was made up. And now I am watching my Church dissolve, Reverend
Vryce, my dream of salvation corrupted . . .” He turned back to Damien, cold
eyes narrowed. “And you are the vehicle of that corruption.”
“No one said you had to have me,” Damien snapped - and instantly regretted
his lack of control. He’d been prepared for much worse than this; why was he
overreacting? It was the fae that had affected him, responding to the Patriarch’s
will. Why? What did he want?
For me to lose control, he realized. For me to act in such a way that he
would have no choice but to cast me out. It staggered the imagination, that a
man who neither accepted nor understood the fae could Work it so well - without
ever knowing that he did. How much of the man’s intolerance was rooted in his
own need to deny the truth?
“No,” the Patriarch agreed. “I could have fragmented the Church instead,
given birth to a schism that might never heal . . . or begun a holy war, trying to
avoid that. Those options were even more distasteful, in the end, and so I
agreed. Send me your sorcerer, I told her. Let me see what he does. Let me see
how he operates. Let me see for myself that his Working is no threat to our
faith.” His expression was icy. “If you can demonstrate that to my satisfaction I’ll
be a very surprised man.”
Mustering all his self-control, Damien answered coolly, “I’ll regard that as a
goal, Holiness.”
The blue eyes fixed on him, pinpoints of azure fire. “Damien Kilcannon Vryce.
Knight of King Gannon’s Order of the Golden Flame. Companion of the Earth-Star
Ascendant. Reverend Father of the Church of the Unification of Human Faith on
Erna. What is our calling, to you?”
Damien stiffened. “A dream - that I would die to uphold, or kill to defend.”
The Patriarch nodded slowly. “Yes. Well recited. The definition of your Order
- first voiced in a more bloodthirsty time than this, I dare say. But you, Reverend
Vryce - the man. The dreamer. What do you believe?”
“That you’re wrong,” Damien answered quietly. “That our traditional belief
system is outdated. That our ancestors perceived of the world in terms of black
and white, when nearly all of it is made up of shades of gray. That the Church
must adapt to that truth, in order to remain a vital entity on this world. The
survival of our dream,” he stressed, “depends upon it.”
For a long moment the Patriarch simply gazed upon him, silent. “She chose
well,” he said at last. Ivory silk rippled in the breeze as he reached out to take
hold of the window and shut it again. “But tell me this. When you work your
sorcery - when you hold the essence of this world in your hands, and use your
will to give it form - can you honestly tell me that the concept of, power, for its
own sake, doesn’t tempt you? Have you never once Worked the fae for your own
good - your own personal good, independent of the Church’s need? Never once