"Lawhead,.Stephen.-.Celtic.Crusades.03.-.Mystic.Rose" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lawhead Stephen)

Thea put her face in her hands and leaned into her sister's embrace. Cait put her arms around the young woman, and felt Alethea's warm tears seeping through her mantle. 'We will mourn him,' she murmured, rubbing Alethea's smooth bare shoulder as she stared dry-eyed upon the great, looming city spread out before her on its fabled hills, 'and we will see him buried.
'Then,' she added to herself, 'we will avenge him.'


CHAPTER THREE

'Tell me,' whined Thea, using her most irritating tone. 'I am not taking another step until you do.'
'The less you know, the less you have to remember.'
The two young women walked together along the wide avenue as a deep, wine-coloured dusk gathered around them. The street - all but deserted when they had started out - was quickly returning to life once more as the heat of the day gave way to a velvet soft evening. Everywhere, the imperial city was shaking off its languor and reviving itself in the splendid mid-summer night.
'Tell me, Cait. I want to know.'
'If I tell you,' she replied wearily, 'will you promise to keep quiet until we get there?'
'Where? Where are we going?'
'1 am not telling you a thing until you promise.'
Along the verges, meat vendors hunched over filthy black charcoal braziers which filled the air with blue smoke and the aroma of burning olive oil and roasting spices. Day labourers and wives late from the markets jostled them as they passed, hurrying home with their suppers wrapped in oiled cloth, and large, flat round loaves of bread tucked under their arms. Gangs of young men dressed in short blue tunics caroused, laughing loudly to call attention to themselves. Several caught sight of the two unescorted women and made obscene gestures with their hands which Cait saw; Thea, however, remained blissfully unaware.
Cait moved with solemn purpose, immune to the charms and curiosities around her. To Alethea, who had not ventured into the city before, everything appeared fantastic and enchanting; she had to force herself to remember that just this day they had buried their father, and that she should, as a loving daughter, assume a mournful and sombre step like her sister. But it was difficult when every few paces some strange new marvel presented itself to her easily dazzled eyes.
They passed through a street dominated by the tall, well-made houses of the wealthy, each of which boasted elaborate, carved wooden balconies - veritable outdoor rooms which overhung the street - on which the families of spice, timber, and gold merchants, ship owners, and moneychangers gathered to eat their evening meal and watch the pageant below.
Meanwhile, the inhabitants of more humble dwellings fled the close confines of dark, stuffy rooms and gathered in the streets and deserted marketplaces to exchange the news of the day. Men stood in huddled conclaves around jugs of raw country wine and nibbled green olives, spitting the pits into the air. Old women squatted in doorways, their wrinkled faces shrewd and silent, watching all around them with small, dark eyes. Dirty-faced children, clutching bits of food snatched from the table, stood stiff-legged and stared, while hungry dogs tried to cadge morsels from their hands.
Every now and then they passed a walled garden and caught a fragrance on the air - jasmine, lemon blossom, hyacinth, or sandalwood - or heard the music of pipes and lute, played to the accompaniment of the tambour, sticks, and hand drum. Although they recognized the instruments, the melodies seemed quaint and plaintive and strange to the ear, unlike anything they had heard before.
After a time, they arrived at a crossroads which formed a common square. Here, the commerce of the day was far from concluded. Women whose companionship could be obtained for the price of a meal strolled idly along, jangling the silver bracelets on their arms as an unobtrusive means of promoting their wares. Across the square, a potter had set up his wheel beside a low wall on which he presented examples of his work, and nearby stood a man with bits of painted wood dangling from strings in his hand; by pulling the strings, the carved pieces seemed to dance - much to the delight of the spectators gathered around him.
There were also chairs for hire lined up alongside a wall beneath the overhanging boughs of a huge sycamore tree. The bearers were huddled around a small fire in the street, resting after their day's work, talking and laughing as they passed a jar around.
Alethea took one glance at the row of chairs and instantly felt the strain of having walked so far. She stopped in mid-step. 'Could we?' she said, tugging on Cait's sleeve. 'I am just exhausted.'
Cait moved on, inclined to ignore her sister's entreaty.
'Oh, Cait, please? We have been walking all day. My feet are sore.'
Caitriona hesitated. She turned back and looked at the chairs. Her vacillation was all that one of the more enterprising chair owners needed. Leaping to his feet, he hurried to where the two young women were standing. 'My friends!' he called. 'You wish to hire a chair. Mine is best,' Dark and thin, he smiled at them as he spoke in rough, rustic Greek. 'I am Philippianous. Come with me, I will show you now.'
'Very well,' said Cait, when she had examined the chair and found it satisfactory. 'How much?'
'Where you wish to go?' asked the eager Philippianous. 'You tell me that, I tell you how much.'
'Blachernae Palace.'
At this, the young man's eyes grew wide. 'You have business there tonight perhaps.'
'Yes,' said Cait. 'How much?'
'Thirty denarii,' he said, growing sly.
'Ten.'
'My lady,' complained Philippianous, 'it is getting dark. We are tired and have nothing to eat Twenty-five denarii. It is a good price.'
'Fifteen denarii - for both of us -'
'Ten apiece,' countered the chair owner.
'Very well,' relented Cait. Slipping a small leather purse from beneath her girdle, she began counting small silver coins into her hand. 'Ten apiece - to take us there and return.'
'My lady,' whined Philippianous. 'We are poor and hungry. We have had nothing to eat all day. We cannot work all night with nothing to eat.'
'Then take your rest,' replied Cait, regarding the group of bearers who were listening to the negotiation with undisguised interest. 'I am certain one of your friends would be more than happy to oblige.'
'Cait, please!' whispered Alethea, embarrassed that her sister should haggle like a fishwife over such a trivial matter.
Sensing victory, the bearer pointed to his chair. 'It is a nice chair. Very comfortable. We will take good care of you.'
'If you do well,' Cait promised, 'I will give you extra for a meal. But you must take us to the palace first.'
'Done!' The chair owner spun on his heel and clapped his hands. He called to his labourers, who rose from among the men gathered around the fire. One of them took a last gulp from the jar before passing it along, and then he and his three companions shuffled to a wide red-painted chair with a green cushion on its wooden bench seat.
Alethea nudged her sister in the ribs, and pointed at a green chair. It was newer, slightly larger, the pole rings were shiny brass, and the cushion was yellow satin. Cait nodded. 'Wait,' she said, and pointed to the green chair. 'That one.'
'My sister/ complained the owner. 'That one is very special - for the empress herself, eh?'
'If the empress wishes to hire it, we will gladly give it to her,' replied Cait, stepping into the chair. She held out the little stack of coins.
Philippianous sighed, but gave his men the nod to go ahead. Taking up two long brass-tipped wooden poles from among those leaning against the wall, they slipped them through the rings, lifted the chair, and started off. 'Enjoy your journey, my friends.'
'You come, too. I will give you an extra ten to announce us at the palace/ Cait said, adding a few more coins to the stack in her hand.
'Philippianous is at your service, empress/ said the chair owner, accepting his payment with a polite bow. The bearers moved out, and the owner ran on ahead, leading the way and clearing idlers from the path.
Alethea was instantly ecstatic. 'This is wonderful! Cait, we should travel like this everywhere,' she said, almost hugging herself.
Cait made no reply. She turned her eyes to the slowly darkening street ahead, and thought about what had been accomplished this day, and what was still to come.
'Why did you not say we were going to the palace?' asked Alethea brightly.