"Russell, Sean - Swan War 1 - One Kingdom" - читать интересную книгу автора (Russell Sean)

"How do you propose to do it, Cousin?" Arden asked quietly. He was the youngest of them, barely more than twenty, and spoke his mind the least, though Dease knew that he was not the least thoughtful.

Dease looked up from the table, the sorrow of the death already etched on his face.” During the archery trials at the Westbrook Tournament I will steal arrows from the Wills...." He paused to take a sudden breath.” And I will use them to shoot Toren through the heart. He will die quickly." No one made comment, but they sat with the weight of what they would do and what they had become pressing down on them.

A gust of wind moved the branches overhead so that the leaves hissed. A dark bird clung determinedly to its perch, protesting the disturbance.

"Once," Arden began, his voice filled with affection and sadness, "Toren unseated me at the tournament in Waye, and afterward-"

"Don't begin that!" Dease said, turning on his cousin.” Don't even think of beginning that! You have no right. None of us has any right."

5

When the men went to untether their horses, the wind, which had not paused to draw breath all morning, sighed once and died away. So the cousins rode down the hill into a newly still world, where the only sounds were their horses passing, for the men spoke not at all.

The silence left after the death of the wind was like the world in mourning. Even the birds gave up their songs. Dease rode along a lane shaded by plane trees, enduring his sorrow. Like the countryside after the wind's death, he felt emptied, hollow. Silence invaded him. Silence and bitterness. Out of his sadness and remorse came feelings of anger and resentment toward his cousin. Why was Toren forcing them to this? Could he not have listened to reason? Could he not have heeded the warnings-for Dease had tried to warn him. Unfortunately, Toren did not believe that anyone's opinions had more validity than his own-a family weakness. Beld suffered the same problem, and he had not half the intellect of Toren. It was difficult for Dease to admit that he agreed with Beldor this time, though Beld's opinions were mere reactions, not arrived at by careful consideration- perhaps there had been no thought at all. Dease realized that more than anything he wished that their problem could be solved by Beld's death. That death he would not feel such sorrow over. The idea that Beld would accompany him-no doubt to savor the death of the cousin he hated-did not sit well with Dease. He wondered if Beld could suffer an accident on the tilt field that summer. It wasn't impossible. But, no; one murder was enough, even though Beld was more deserving of it than Toren-at least in some ways. Dease shut his eyes and tried to clear these thoughts from his brain. When he opened them he looked around and saw something moving across a field.

It was Arden's head bobbing just above the green oats. His young cousin was trotting along beyond the field, trying to outpace him, no doubt. Planning to intercept him.

He will want to talk, Dease realized, and then hoped the others would not see them. It could not help but look suspicious. Why had Arden not ridden off with him in the first place? Everyone would have thought that innocent enough.

This is what conies of being a conspirator, he realized: you live in fear of suspicion.

At the corner of the next field Arden caught him, his face red in the sun, his look a bit embarrassed. Dease was certain that the decision they had made did not seem real to Arden yet. It was all just talk, as most things were with young men.

"Cousin," Arden said as he reined his horse in, and then nothing. Silent like the world around them.” May I ride with you awhile?"

Dease nodded and the two fell in side by side, riding down the long row of trees, from shadow to light to shadow again.

"You're not happy with the decision," Dease said at last.

"No one is happy.... No one but Beld, that is." He played with his mare's mane.” I still hope that Toren can be convinced to change his mind. There is time. The Westbrook Fair is some months off." He looked up at Dease, clearly an appeal.” He won't listen to me, but don't you give up, Dease. Toren might be brought to his senses yet."

Dease nodded, though it was not in agreement.” I will try, but I fear my constant badgering has begun to antagonize him."

They rode on through the still day, each of them lost in thought. Dease looked at his cousin. He had grown into a fair young man, or at least that was what the women thought. Blond and blue-eyed like so many Rennй , with skin fair as a child's. Arden was strongly built, like his father-or so he would be when he reached his full weight. Dease had not seen Arden on the tilt field in some time, but he was

7 hearing reports that his young cousin would do the Rennй proud this season. Suddenly Arden raised his head.” I have one concern, Dease." He said this so earnestly that Dease found himself leaning over to hear what would be said next.” What if Beldor's interest in this is not so simple as it seems? We all know he hates Toren-that is not in question-but after Toren is dead the succession falls to Kel. And after Kel only you stand between Beldor and the throne. And if the feud begins again ..." "There is no throne," Dease reminded him. Arden looked at him oddly, as though trying to plumb his thoughts.” Perhaps, but who does Beldor hate most next to Toren?" Dease nodded. It was no secret. Beld hated him. Hated him for their difference. Beld, the man of action, could not bear Dease's thoughtfulness. His love of music and art were offensive to a man of arms. Such interests weakened a man. He had heard Beld say it. And the fact that Dease always triumphed over Beld on the tilt field drove his cousin to fury.” Everyone has had this same thought, Arden. Beld knew I wouldn't let him do this thing. I wonder if he wanted to be seen to offer. Who would suspect the man offering to commit the murder of treachery? But, in fact, we all do. I've never turned my back to Cousin Beld." "Samul and I have our eye on him, Cousin," Arden said.” If some accident befalls you after Toren is gone, we've made a pact. We shall not let Beldor come into the succession. We will not." Hearing this, Dease closed his eyes. His sorrow kicked inside him. Such was the choice they'd made this afternoon upon Summer's Hill.


THE RUINED TOWER STOOD ABOVE THE OLD BATTLEFIELD AT TELANON Bridge, an empty-eyed sentinel overlooking a meadow of spring flowers and slumbering ghosts. A cooling breeze bore the scent of ice and snow down from the nearby mountains, and the trees bordering the old battlefield began the furtive whispering that haunted the winds by night.

From the crumbling battlements Tarn watched the shadow of great Eldhorn wash over the hills: night's tide flowing, silent and relentless. Shadows pooled in the valleys and made islands of hilltops still lit by the sun.

Below, a fire crackled, and Tarn heard the muffled voices of his cousin and Baore as they prepared the meal. Smoke, caught by eddies and drafts from the ancient stoneworks, drifted through the ruin like the spirit of regret that seemed to dwell in this place.” The young begin their journeys with joyful hearts," Tarn quoted to himself, "the old with regrets."

Yet his heart was not filled with joy. The world beyond his home, the Vale of Lakes, was strange and not much spoken of by the people of the Vale-despite the fact that all of their ancestors had come from that outside world.

Driven here by war, Tarn reminded himself.

All the most important things you'll do in this life will exact a price in one way or another, his grandfather liked to say. Once you've made up your mind, pay the price and get on with it.