"Stephen Lawhead - Pendragon Cycle 05 - Grail" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lawhead Stephen)

'That is Ffinn, my young nephew; I am teaching him to serve in the hall,'
explained Hwyl. 'All those of an age have gone with Urien to fight the war
in the south, but as you are here, no doubt they will be returning soon.'
Lifting the bowl, he took a drink and passed it to me, saying, 'Welcome,
my friends. The comfort of this hearth is yours for as long as you care to
stay.'
I drank - the brew was cool, dark, and sweet - and with great reluctance
passed the bowl to Tallaght. 'Your welcome cheers me,' I told the
chieftain. 'It is too long since I have tasted ale so good. Already I am
regretting that we cannot stay longer.'
He offered the cup around once more, and said, 'Be it short or long, your
stay is more than agreeable. We have had no word from the south at all.'
A quick, sharp thrust is best, I thought, drawing a deep breath. 'Word is
not good,' I told him. 'The war is over, but the price has been high.'
'I feared as much,' remarked Hwyl grimly. 'Is Urien dead?'
'No,' I answered, grateful for the opportunity to set the matter in a different
light. 'No, he is not dead - though perhaps he might prefer it.'
Suspicion clouded Hwyl's features. 'Death is more than enough for most
men, I find.'
'Hwyl,' I said, 'your lord has been banished from Britain.' I let that sink in
a moment before explaining. 'Urien broke faith with the High King and
joined a faction that rebelled against Arthur. The rebellion was crushed,
and the leaders exiled to Armorica along with any who would go with
them. Urien will not be returning to Rheged.'
Hwyl, staring at the empty board before him, was shaking his head and
muttering to himself. I might have let him find out later at the council, but
I know if I were in his place, I would wish to learn the worst as soon as
possible so that I could warn the settlement and begin making plans.
'I am sorry to bear such bad tidings,' I continued, and then drove the blade
home: 'The lands of all who joined in the rebellion are forfeit to the High
King, and he has given them to another.'
The chieftain raised his eyes at this. His face was ashen with shock and
dismay. But his reply surprised me. 'Bad tidings, you say,' he mused,
shaking his head ruefully, 'and that is only the half of it.' He looked at me
as if staring hopelessness in the face. Then, turning once more to the
contemplation of his barren table, he said, 'God's truth, I always feared the
worst.'
'Did you, now?'
'Alas, Urien is no steady man; as a boy he was a flighty lad -so unlike his
father. I always hoped he would come to a better nature, but no - he has
grown reckless, headstrong, and inconstant. Unhealthy in any man, such
character is perilous in a ruler. Even so, I hoped...' He looked at me with
sad, haunted eyes, his mouth quivering, his voice thick. 'That we took him
for our lord I do most deeply regret.'
'I am sorry it has come to this,' I told him.
Hwyl, struggling to hold himself, simply nodded; he was too overcome to
speak. Peredur extended the bowl to me, indicating that I should give it to
the chieftain, which I did. Hwyl accepted the ale and braced himself with a
last, long drink.
'It is bad for you, I will not deny it,' I said when he had finished, 'yet it