"Gray, Julia - Guardian 01 - The Dark Moon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gray Julia)

'The Red Moon will be full,' Terrel said, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He had only ever seen the ocean in his dreams. Now he was close to seeing the real thing.
'And the fires of love will burn bright,' Babak intoned.
'What?'
'You'll see,' the pedlar promised.
The ruin dominated the landscape for miles around. Luci had been pulling them along at her unchanging pace for some time when Terrel first saw it, but it had taken another two hours to reach the foot of the hill. From that earliest glimpse, the boy's gaze had been drawn to the jagged outline of dark stone, caught as much by its position - atop a single bare hill in the middle of the wide coastal plain - as by the stark shapes above.
'According to legend, even the hill itself is man-made,' Babak remarked, 'though I don't see how anyone could know that.'
'Because it's symmetrical,' Terrel said, 'and it's so different from the rest of the landscape round here.'
'Even so, that's a lot of trouble to go to,' the pedlar went on. 'Unless they were giants, it would've taken years to move all that earth, and then they'd have had to make sure it was solid enough to build on. Makes no sense.'
'They must have had their reasons. Doesn't anyone know who built it?'
'No. It's supposed to be even older than the temple at Tindaya, but the funny thing is that some of its construction was apparently very sophisticated. Someone estimated from the thickness of the lower walls that the central tower might have been five or six storeys high, and the masonry was perfectly crafted. I don't know how they can tell that from this pile of rubble, but that's what they say.' He shrugged. 'There was stained glass in some of the windows too, apparently. It's gone now, of course, but there were lots of fragments left. The only place you come across such things these days is in the best temples and houses of Makhaya, not some primitive castle in the middle of nowhere.'
'So whoever built this place must have been part of a highly developed civilization,' Terrel concluded.
'Seems like it,' Babak agreed, 'but there's no record of them anywhere else. It's as if they just vanished - and the only thing they left was this ruin.'
'Can we go up and take a closer look?' The road curved round the base of the hill.
'You go,' the pedlar replied. 'I've seen it all before. I'll pick you up again on the far side.'
By the time Terrel reached the castle he was breathing heavily, because the slope was steep and the day was warm and humid, but he soon forgot about this and about his aching legs as he walked among the ruins. It was obvious that it had once been a monumental construction. Some of the blocks of stone were massive and, even though they'd been eroded by time and the weather, the precise nature of their cutting was clear. Terrel could make out the remnants of graceful arches, columns, and great walls amid the general clutter of rock, but he was most fascinated by a pattern incised upon what must once have been the floor of a great hall. The paving was partly obscured by debris, and was broken in places, but the original design was still clear. It had been a floor maze, leading via an almost impossibly convoluted route to the centre of the circular pattern. Terrel imagined people making the slow, symbolic journey to the heart of the maze, and wished it was possible for him to do the same. The place had a strangely peaceful atmosphere, and had surely once been the site of ritual and worship. This thought made him glance up at the sky, but none of the moons was visible - and he could only guess at what the stars might look like from where he stood, their light mirrored by candles below.
Coming back down to earth, he went to look at the centre of the maze. The mosaic there was also partly hidden by fallen masonry, but he could see enough to realize that it looked like a great black star, each of its five points extended in wavy lines - like tentacles reaching out into the labyrinth that surrounded it. For the first time Terrel felt a momentary unease, a small chill of foreboding that made him glad of the noonday heat.
As he made his way down the far side of the hill, he found himself thinking about the purpose of his journey. Like the dark star here, his destination also lay at the heart of a man-made labyrinth.

Chapter Twenty-Five

'You can't hide for ever.' Babak sounded disappointed, but impatient too.
Terrel knew this was true, but part of him wished that it wasn't. The nearer they got to Tiscamanita, the more people they met on the road. Some contact was inevitable, but Terrel had chosen to look down, or to raise his hand as if shading himself from the sun, in order to hide his eyes.
'Listen,' Babak went on. 'Even if you fail, nothing's going to happen. You may get a few strange looks, but that's all. You're with me.'
Terrel had already seen that the pedlar commanded respect - even a little awe - from most of their fellow travellers, and being under his protection did indeed make the boy feel safer in the midst of so many strangers. Even so, his earlier experiences had made him wary - and Babak's reassurances had done nothing to rid Terrel of his own distrust of the glamour, his conviction that somehow it was wrong.
'Besides, you're not going to fail,' his companion added.
'You think I don't know when someone has the gift? Look. I know him.' He pointed ahead, to where a merchant had pulled his wagon over to the side of the road in order to talk to a man on horseback. 'We'll stop for a chat. You can try with them.'
'No, please,' Terrel whispered. The horseman was in uniform and, even though it was not one he recognized, the idea of confronting someone in authority made the prospect even more daunting.
'Just remember what I told you,' Babak said, cheerfully relentless. 'Concentrate on one thing. Don't try to hide your arm or your leg. Use them to distract attention if necessary. Most people won't even notice your eyes if you do that -and if they do, they'll think they're a perfectly ordinary blue - as long as you convince them. And they'll be happier believing that than seeing the eyes of an enchanter!' Babak had been told of the harvesters' accusations. 'Now just relax and do it.'
Having drawn alongside the wagon, the pedlar brought Luci to a halt with a casual flick of the reins, while Terrel tried to make himself as small and inconspicuous as possible.
'Greetings, Phailas,' Babak said.
'Hello, Babak,' the merchant replied coolly, then glanced reluctantly at his companion. 'You know Seneschal Cadrez, of course.'
The pedlar transferred his gaze to the imposing figure who sat stiffly erect on his mount.
'Only by reputation,' he replied. 'I am honoured to make your acquaintance, sir.'
The seneschal nodded, but did not speak.
'Don't waste your time on him, Babak,' Phailas advised. 'He has too much sense to be taken in by your cozenage.'
Babak pretended to be shocked and offended, then smiled.
'I'm sure the seneschal is capable of making up his own mind in such matters,' he said. 'And I shan't lack for customers at the fair. People prefer a little entertainment to being overcharged for your trinkets.'
'Hadn't you better move along?' the merchant responded. 'You're blocking the road.'
Throughout this pointed but not unfriendly exchange, Terrel had kept his head down. However, Babak was determined not to allow him to hide any longer, and pulled him forward.
'This is my new apprentice,' the pedlar announced. 'Greet our distinguished friends, Terrel.'
I have blue eyes, Terrel recited softly. Perfectly ordinary. Blue eyes.
He looked up, forcing himself not to squint.
'Good afternoon, gentlemen,' he said quietly. The horrified reaction he was expecting did not come. He held his breath, waiting.
'He has better manners than the last one, at least,' Phailas remarked.
'And he is a most able student,' Babak said, in a self-satisfied tone.
'Then he deserves a better master than you,' the merchant responded.
'I doubt I could do better than the one I have,' Terrel stated with more conviction, aghast at his own daring.
The merchant gave the boy a second, measuring glance, as if he thought he had spoken out of turn, but once again he saw nothing untoward. Terrel held his gaze in triumph, before looking at the seneschal. Cadrez was paying him no attention, watching the road behind the cart.
'Farewell, gentlemen,' Babak said as he set Luci in motion again. 'Enjoy the festival.'
Once they were out of earshot, Terrel expected his mentor to make some comment, but the smug grin on the pedlar's face said it all. He had been proved right - and they both knew it. Terrel was able to use the glamour.