The Daylight War. Peter Brett V.
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Название: The Daylight War
Автор: Peter Brett V.
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Героическая фантастика
isbn: 9780007301898
isbn:
They had barely settled in their room and finished the breakfast Stefny sent up when there was a knock at the door. Arlen opened it to find one of Tender Hayes’ acolytes – the one who was always at his side.
He wore only plain sandals and tan robes, his warded surplice reserved for night. His trim brown beard was flecked with grey.
‘I am Child Franq, aide to Tender Hayes, High Inquisitor and spiritual advisor to His Highness, Count Thamos of Cutter’s Hollow,’ he said with a minimal bow. ‘Apologies for the interruption, Mr Bales,’ he nodded to Renna, ‘Miss Tanner, but His Holiness was most impressed by your words this morning, and requests the honour of your presence at dinner at six o’clock this evening in the dining hall of the Holy House. Formal dress.’
He turned to go, but Arlen’s reply checked him before he could leave. ‘You’ll have to extend our regrets.’
Franq froze for a moment, and when he turned back, he still had a touch of surprise on his face. He gave another shallow bow. ‘You mean to say you have … ah, more important plans on your calendar than seeing His Holiness?’
Arlen shrugged helplessly. ‘Afraid my calendar is quite full. Perhaps after the new moon.’
This time, Franq could not hide his incredulity. ‘That … that is your reply to His Holiness?’
‘Shall I put it in writing?’ Arlen asked. When Franq did not reply, he strode to the door, taking hold of it pointedly. Franq shuffled out, his face a mix of outrage and shock.
‘Ent he a bit old to be a Child?’ Renna asked when she heard his footsteps recede down the hall.
Arlen nodded. ‘Looked close to forty summers. Tenders usually take orders by thirty even if the council ent found them a flock.’
‘So what, he failed the test?’
Arlen shook his head. ‘Means Hayes is powerful, as Tenders go. So powerful that being a Child and his aide is loftier than tending your own flock. Politics.’ He spat the word.
‘Then what’s all this calendar business?’ Renna asked. ‘Din’t seem neighbourly. We just walked into town an hour ago. Ent planned so much as our next privy visit.’
‘Don’t care.’ Arlen waved irritably at the door. ‘Corespawned if I’m going to be bullied into a ripping formal dinner just so some Tender can look important. Got no patience for posturing.’
He dropped his voice to Franq’s low tenor. ‘“… mean to say you have … ah, more important plans than seeing His Holiness?” Bah!’
‘Do we have more important plans?’ Renna asked.
‘Thought we might spend a few hours knocking our heads against a wall,’ Arlen said. ‘That’s about the same as talkin’ to a Tender. They’ve all got that book memorized, but each one reads it different.’
‘Tender Harral from back in the Brook was a good man,’ Renna said. ‘Stood by me when the town was out for my blood.’
‘But not in front of you, Ren,’ Arlen said. ‘Best remember that. And Jeorje Watch, who was full of righteous fire at your staking, was a Tender, too.’
‘You don’t talk bad about the old Hollow Tender,’ Renna said.
Arlen shrugged. ‘Jona’s as fool as the rest of them. Maybe more, in some ways. But he always done right by folk. Earned his respect. Hayes ent earned anything.’
‘Ent given him much chance,’ Renna noted.
Arlen was silent a few moments, but at last he grunted. ‘Fine, I’ll send Keet to let him know we found space in our “calendar”. But ent no way we’re goin’ in formal dress.’
There wasn’t precisely a crowd outside the inn when Arlen and Renna emerged late in the afternoon to head to the Holy House for dinner with Tender Hayes, but there were hundreds of folk milling about the shops and street corners, attempting to look as if they had reason to be there. A frantic buzz began as they caught sight of the pair.
Renna sighed. It seemed nothing Arlen could say would change the minds of some folk, even those who hung on his every word like it was Canon.
There had been a steady stream of knocks at their door through the day. Smitt and Stefny did their best to keep the petitioners from swarming, but they did not deny access to any they deemed important, and there were many of those. The Butchers came with heavy ledgers and rolled maps they spread on the floor, showing their progress in recruiting and clearing land. Dozens of southern hamlets had fled the Krasians as they spread out to overtake Rizon, many of them resettling entirely on their own greatwards in Hollow County. There were six greatwards surrounding the Hollow proper now, though only two, New Rizon and Journey’s End, were fully active. More were still in the early stages.
A glassblower named Benn brought beautiful warded items for Arlen to inspect, and Kendall had snuck in to talk about Angierian Jongleurs that had arrived with Count Thamos’ caravan.
‘Five masters from the Jongleurs’ Guild,’ Kendall said, ‘and a dozen apprentices. Claim they’re here to help Rojer get us better at controlling demons, but they seem more interested in gathering stories about you.’
And so it went. Warders, Messengers, Herb Gatherers, Speakers from refugee towns; one by one and in pairs, they came and went until Renna thought she might scream.
Arlen took it better, greeting many as friends and offering suggestions most folk seemed to take as commands. Still, it was a relief to be out of the room, even though it meant weathering the stares of countless eyes as they passed down the street.
Tender Hayes and Child Franq were waiting for them when they reached the Holy House. Hayes was clad in brown robes, but these were of a finer material than Renna had ever seen apart from her warded cloak. Over this the Tender wore a white chasuble, trimmed with green ivy needlework with a crooked staff stitched in glittering gold in the centre, surrounded by a circle of wards, many of which Renna did not recognize. His stole and skullcap were forest green, embroidered with wards in shining gold thread. His hands glittered with gold rings, one of which held a green stone the size of a cow’s eye.
Franq, too, was formally outfitted with a green warded skullcap and a white surplice over his tan robe, stitched in green-and-gold thread with the same ivy-and-staff design as Hayes. A gold necklace set with a large red stone hung at his throat.
They stood in stark contrast with Arlen, barefoot in his faded denim trousers and shirt, and Renna, who was clad scandalously by anyone’s standards, wearing only a high, leather vest and a calf-length skirt slit to the waist on either side. But if their plain clothes – or lack thereof in Renna’s case – gave offence, the men showed no sign.
‘Welcome to the House of the Creator, Mr Bales, Miss Tanner!’ СКАЧАТЬ