"Scott Mackay - The Sages Of Cassiopeia" - читать интересную книгу автора (Mackay Scott)

eyes, rippled through his carrot orange hair. Was this God's fair hand at work,
a divine intervention turning a fool into a sage?

Tycho put his hand on his brother's shoulder. Magnus looked up at Tycho, and in
the idiot's eyes the mist of stupidity lifted, and a brother's recognition,
love, and devotion took their rightful place. Tycho leaned forward.

"Magnus?" he said.

Magnus got up, straightened his shoulders, stood to his full height, and walked,
not lumbered, to the sextant. With unexpected delicacy he put his eye to the
instrument. Tycho stood back, his blood running lightly through his body,
tickling his heart with anticipation. The idiot worked his lips back and forth.
Then he looked at Tycho, his eyes bright with discovery.

"Venus?" said Magnus.

His brother's first word; so fitting it should be the name of earth's sister
planet. Tears came to Tycho's eyes. This was a miracle. Nothing like this had
ever happened in Knudstrup before.

"No, Magnus," he said. "Not Venus. A new star in the Cassiopeia constellation.
But you will learn, dear brother. You will learn everything I know."

Tycho sat on the hard uncomfortable chair across from Bishop Anders, feeling out
of place in these holy chambers, uneasy, as if the mounted stag's head above the
large and never. extinguished fire watched him. Despite the bright day and
unseasonable warmth, the shutters remained closed. The bishop wore his heaviest
black robe. Tycho was here to show the old man his latest astronomical notes.
The bishop was an important man, the king's envoy in this province of Scania,
and if Tycho could please the king through Bishop Anders, his work would
continue unhindered, and with royal sanction.

The bishop pushed the sheets aside, his brow knitting. He got up, ambled over to
the fire, and stirred the embers with the poker. The fire danced from the ashes,
casting unruly shadows on the rafters. So prudent to please the court, and more
importantly, the Church, even after the Reformation, especially because he was a
Lutheran in Catholic territory. But what, exactly, pleased Bishop Anders? Bishop
Anders preached frugality and sacrifice from the pulpit, yet lived like a prince
and allowed the brothers of the order to eat red meat every day. How was one to
reconcile the stag's head mounted on the wall with the figure of Christ on the
Crucifix next to the window? Truly a puzzling man, an unpredictable and
unpleasant man, a man who had always envied the house of Brahe. The bishop
turned from the fire.

"Circles and numbers and endless observations," said Bishop Anders. "A truly
meticulous account of Our Lord's universe." He walked to the table and shuffled
through the sheets. "But this here," he said, pointing, "where you mention
Kopernik of Cracow. Why must you do that? Everyone knows he was damned as a
heretical fool. His work is no better than the scrawl of a madman."