"Sharon K. Penman - Reckoning" - читать интересную книгу автора (Penman Sharon K)

shoulders gave promise of even more impressive growth to come. Now he studied
Damian through long, fair lashes, blue eyes shadowed with sudden doubts.
Nothing he'd heard this eve was unfamiliar; he knew the history of the de
Montforts as if they were his own family. The Earl, a highborn lord who'd
championed the commons, a legend even in his lifetime, arrogant and gallant
and hot-tempered and reckless, a man who'd pre-
ferred death to dishonor. His Countess, the Lady Nell, forced to choose
between her brother the King and her husband, forced into French exile after
Evesham. Their five sons. Harry, who'd died with his father, and Guy, who'd
survived only by the grace of God. Bran, who had to live with a guilt beyond
anything Hugh could imagine. Amaury, the priest, and Richard, dead in France.
Ellen, the only daughter, who was to have wed a Prince.
'Vjiugh felt as if he knew them all. But his thoughts now were not of the
beguiling, tragic de Montforts; it was Damian, his friend, for whom he feared.
"The old King hated Earl Simon as if he were the veritable Antichrist," he
said hesitantly. "And all know how wroth the Lord Edward is that men have
taken the Earl's memory so to heart, that they make pilgrimages to his grave
and speak of miracles, of children healed and fevers broken. Is it not
dangerous, then, Brother Damian, to speak out so plainly? Not even the Lord
Edward could deny Earl Simon's courage. But when you talk of his desire for
reforms, when you say he was right to seize the government, is there not a
risk that evil-minded men might missay you, might even claim you speak
treason?"
Damian was touched by the youngster's concern. "There is some truth in what
you say, lad. But King Henry is no great threat these days, addled by his age
and his failures. And the Lord Edward, whilst undeniably formidable, is absent
from the realm. Crusades can last for years; who knows when he might return to
England?"
"I was thinking of a danger closer at handthe Earl of Gloucester. Who hates
Earl Simon more than Gloucester? A man always despises one he betrays, does he
not?"
Damian gave Hugh an approving smile; the lad was learning fast. "You are
right. That Judas Gloucester does indeed harbor great hatred for his former
allies, for all who bear the name de Montfort. I may well be foolhardy for
speaking out as I do. But I cannot keep silent, Hugh. That is all I can do for
Earl Simon now, seek to make sure he is not forgotten."
Ahead loomed the abbey church, a massive silhouette against the darkening sky.
The nave was lit only by Damian's lantern, but as they detoured around the
rood screen, they could see a glimmer of light coming from the choir. Damian
was not surprised to find a man standing before Simon de Montforf s grave
stone; rarely a day passed without pilgrims to this illicit shrine.
"I am sorry, but you must go now," he said kindly. "It is nigh on time for
Vespers. You may stay for the service if you wish; lay people are permitted in
the nave."
The man did not answer. He was uncommonly tall, shrouded in a long,
snow-splattered mantle, and there was something disconcerting
about his silence, his utter stillness in the shadows. Damian felt a faint
prickling of unease. To combat it, he stepped forward boldly, raising his
lantern. His candle's flame flared, giving Hugh a glimpse of a dark hawk's
face, cheekbones high and hollowed, eyes the shade of smoke, not a face to be