"Katherine Kerr - Deverry 02 - Darkspell" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kerr Katherine)

‘Tingyr Maelwaedd, and his mother is Lovyan of the Clw Coc.’

Devaberiel went very still. When had that been? He could still see her face in his mind, a beautiful lass
for all her blunt ears and round eyes, and she’d been so melancholy about something. But when? that
unusually dry summer, wasn’t it? Yes, and it was twenty-one years ago, all right.

‘Oh by the Dark Sun herself!’ Devaberiel burst out. ‘Here I never even knew I’d gotten Lovva with
child!’

‘And isn’t that a fine jest?’ Calonderiel said with a crow of laughter. ‘I certainly picked the perfect
bard to answer my question. You have a peculiar fondness for round-ear women, my friend.’

‘There haven’t been that many.’

When Calonderiel started to laugh, Devaberiel threw a punch his way.

‘Stop howling like a goblin! I want to know about this son of mine. Every detail you can remember.’

Not many days later, Rhodry was the subject of another discussion, this one in Bardek, far across the
Southern Sea. In an upstairs room of an isolated villa, deep in the hill country of the main island, two men
lounged on a purple divan and watched a third, sitting at a table littered with parchment scrolls and
books. He was grossly fat, as saggy and wrinkled as a torn leather ball, and only a few wisps of white
hair clung to his dark-skinned skull. Whenever he glanced up, his eyelids drooped uncontrollably,
half-covering his brown eyes. He had immersed himself so thoroughly and so long in the craft of the dark
dweomer that he no longer had a name. He was simply the Old One.

The other two men were both from Deverry. Alastyr, who looked fifty but was actually closer to
seventy, was a solid sort with a squarish face and gray hair. At first sight he looked like a typical Cerrmor
merchant, with his checked brigga and nicely embroidered shirt, and indeed, he took great pains to act
the part. The other, Sarcyn, had just turned thirty. His thick blond hair, dark blue eyes, and regular
features should have made him handsome, but there was something about the way he smiled, something
about the burning expression in his eyes, that made most people find him repellent. They both spoke not
a word until the Old One looked up, tipping his head back so that he could see them.

‘I have gone over all the major calculations.’ His voice was like the rasp of two dead twigs rubbed
together. There’s some hidden thing at work here that I don’t understand, some secret, some force of
Destiny, perhaps, that has interfered with our plans.’

‘Could it simply be the Master of the Aethyr?’ Alastyr said. ‘Loddlaen’s war was going splendidly
until he intervened.’

The Old One shook his head no and picked up a parchment sheet.

‘This is the horoscope of Tingyr, Rhodry’s father. My art is very complex, little Alastyr. A single
horoscope reveals few secrets.’

‘I see. I didn’t realize that.’

‘No doubt, because few know the stars as I do. Now, most fools think that when a man dies, his