"Роджер Желязны. Lord of Light (Лорд Света, engl) " - читать интересную книгу автора

to his lips and blew a few tentative notes. He paused, repeated the trial,
then turned about.
He raised it once more and began the quivering movement of the waltz.
As he played, the prince sipped his wine.
When he paused for breath, the prince motioned him to continue. He
played tune after forbidden tune, and the professional musicians put
professional expressions of scorn upon their faces; but beneath their table
several feet were tapping in slow time with the music.
Finally, the prince had finished his wine. Evening was near to the city
of Mahartha. He tossed the boy a purse of coins and did not look into his
tears as he departed from the hall. He rose then and stretched, smothering a
yawn with the back of his hand.
"I retire to my chambers," he said to his men. "Do not gamble away your
inheritances in my absence."
They laughed then and bade him good night, calling for strong drink and
salted biscuits. He heard the rattle of dice as he departed.

The prince retired early so that he might arise before daybreak. He
instructed a servant to remain outside his door all the following day and to
refuse admission to any who sought it, saying that he was indisposed.
Before the first flowers had opened to the first insects of morning, he
had gone from the hostel, only an ancient green parrot witnessing his
departure. Not in silks sewn with pearls did he go, but in tatters, as was
his custom on these occasions. Not preceded by conch and drum did he move,
but by silence, as he passed along the dim streets of the city. These
streets were deserted, save for an occasional doctor or prostitute returning
from a late call. A stray dog followed him as he passed through the business
district, heading in the direction of the harbor.
He seated himself upon a crate at the foot of a pier. The dawn came to
lift the darkness from the world; and he watched the ships stirring with the
tide, empty of sail, webbed with cables, prows carved with monster or
maiden. His every visit to Mahartha brought him again to the harbor for a
little while.
Morning's pink parasol opened above the tangled hair of the clouds, and
cool breezes crossed the docks. Scavenger birds uttered hoarse cries as they
darted about loop-windowed towers, then swooped across the waters of the
bay.
He watched a ship put out to sea, tentlike vanes of canvas growing to
high peaks and swelling in the salt air. Aboard other ships, secure in their
anchorage, there was movement now, as crews made ready to load or unload
cargoes of incense, coral, oil and all kinds of fabrics, as well as metals,
cattle, hardwoods and spices. He smelled the smells of commerce and listened
to the cursing of the sailors, both of which he admired: the former, as it
reeked of wealth, and the latter because it combined his two other chief
preoccupations, these being theology and anatomy.
After a time, he spoke with a foreign sea captain who had overseen the
unloading of sacks of grain, and now took his rest in the shade of the
crates.
"Good morning," he said. "May your passages be free of storm and
shipwreck, and the gods grant you safe harbor and a good market for your