"Moon, Elizabeth - Gird 02 - Liar's Oath E-Txt" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moon Elizabeth)

wasn’t sure he had fooled her, but she didn’t challenge him. “It must be woven
on a loom used for nothing else, the width exactly suited to the altar, for no
cutting or folding of excess can be permitted. No woman in her time may come
into the room while it is being woven, nor may touch it after; if she touches
the loom while bleeding, the loom must be burned. Then while it is being
embroidered, which must be the work of one only, it must be kept in a casing of
purest white wool, and housed in cedarwood.”
Luap nodded, tried to think of something to say, and asked about the one thing
she hadn’t mentioned. “And the color, lady? How must it be dyed?”
“Dyed!” She fairly bristled at him, and thrust the cloth toward his face,
yanking it back when he reached out a hand. “It is not dyed, young man; that is
fine stitchery.” Now he could see that the blue background was not cloth, but
embroidery. He had never seen anything like it.
“I’m sorry,” he said, since she clearly expected an apology. “I don’t think I’ve
ever seen work that fine.”
“Probably not.” Then, after a final sniff, she gave him a melting smile. “Young
man, you will not guess how long I’ve been working on this.”
He had no idea of course, but a guess was clearly required. “A year? Two?”
She dimpled. How a woman her age had kept dimples he also had no idea, but they
were surprisingly effective. “Ten years. You can’t work on this all day, you
know. No one could. I began when the king made that terrible mistake; I knew
what would come of it. I tried to warn him, but…” She leaned forward,
conspiratorial. “Would you believe, the king thought I was just a silly old
woman! You may have been my mother’s best friend, he said, but she only liked
you because you were too stupid to play politics. Safely stupid, he said. You
needn’t think I’ll listen to you, he said, you and your oldfashioned
superstitions, Well!” Old anger flushed her cheeks, then faded as she pursed her
lips and shook that silver hair. “When I got home, I told Eris here—” She waved
a hand at the peasant woman. “I told her then, I said, ‘You mark my words, dear,
that hot-blooded fool is leading us straight into trouble.’ Though of course it
didn’t start then, but a long time before; these things always do. Young people
are so rash.”
A movement in the passage outside caught Luap’s eye—Gird, headed downstairs on
some errand, had paused to see what was going on. For someone his size, he could
be remarkably quiet when he wished. From his expression, the old woman’s, rich
clothing and aristocratic accent were having a predictable effect on his temper.
Go away, Luap thought earnestly at Gird, knowing that was useless. Then Be quiet
to the old lady—equally useless.
She went on. “And that very day, I began the work. My grandmother had always
said, you never know when you’ll need the gods’ cloth, so it’s wise to prepare
beforehand. This wool had been sheared two years before that, carded and spun
and woven just as the rituals say: not by my hands, for there are better
spinners and weavers in my household, and I’m not so proud I’ll let the god wear
roughspun just to have my name on it. Ten years, young man, I’ve put in stitch
by stitch, and stopped for nothing. The king even wondered why I came no more to
court, sent ladies to see, and they found me embroidering harmlessly—or so the
king took it.” She fixed Luap with another of those startling stares. “I am not
a fool, young man, whatever the king thought. But it does no good to meddle
where no one listens, and my grandmother had told me once my wits were in my
fingers, not my tongue.”