The Farseer Series Books 2 and 3: Royal Assassin, Assassin’s Quest. Robin Hobb
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Название: The Farseer Series Books 2 and 3: Royal Assassin, Assassin’s Quest

Автор: Robin Hobb

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Сказки

Серия:

isbn: 9780007531493

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ abed. Still, I had no desire to rouse the wrong person to see me at Molly’s door. Yet I had to know.

      Her door was latched, but it was a simple one. I slipped it in a matter of seconds, and made note to myself that she would have a better one before tomorrow night. Soft as shadow, I entered her room and drew the door closed behind me.

      A fire had burned low in the hearth. Its lingering embers cast an uncertain haze of light. I stood still a moment, letting my eyes adjust, then I moved carefully into the room, staying away from the hearth light. I could hear the steady sleep rhythm of Molly’s breath from her bed. It should have been enough for me. But I teased myself that she might be fevered and sinking even now into a death sleep from poison. I promised myself that I would do no more than touch her pillow, just to see if her skin were fevered or normal. No more than that. I drifted to the bedside.

      I could just make out her shape under the covers in the dim light. She smelled heathery and warm and sweet. Healthy. No feverish poison victim slept here. I knew I should go. ‘Sleep well,’ I breathed.

      Silently she sprang up at me. The ember light ran red along the blade in her hand. ‘Molly!’ I cried as I parried her knife hand aside with the back of my forearm. She froze, her other hand drawn back in a fist, and for an instant all in the room was silent and motionless. Then, ‘Newboy!’ she hissed furiously, and punched me in the belly with her left hand. As I doubled over, gasping for air, she rolled from the bed. ‘You idiot! You frightened me to death! What do you think you’re about, rattling at my latch and sneaking about in my room! I should call the keep guardsmen to put you out!’

      ‘No!’ I begged, as she threw wood on the fire, and then kindled a candle at it. ‘Please. I’ll go. I meant no harm or offence. I just wanted to be sure you were all right.’

      ‘Well, I’m not!’ she stormed in a whisper. Her hair was confined for the night into two thick braids, reminding me sharply of the little girl I had met so long ago. A girl no longer. She caught me staring at her. She threw a heavier robe about her shoulders and belted it at her waist. ‘I’m a shaking wreck! I shan’t sleep another wink tonight! You’ve been drinking, haven’t you? Are you drunk, then? What do you want?’

      She advanced on me with the candle as if it were a weapon. ‘No,’ I assured her. I drew myself upright and tugged my shirt straight. ‘I promise you, I’m not drunk. And truly, I had no bad intentions. But … something happened tonight, something that made me worry that something bad might happen to you, so I thought I had best come and make sure you were all right, but I knew Patience would not approve, and I certainly didn’t want to go waking up the whole keep, so I thought I would just slip in and …’

      ‘Newboy. You’re babbling,’ she informed me icily.

      It was true. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said again, and sat down on the corner of the bed.

      ‘Don’t get comfortable,’ she warned me. ‘You were just leaving. Alone, or with the keep guards. Your choice.’

      ‘I’ll go,’ I promised, standing hastily. ‘I just wanted to be sure you were all right.’

      ‘I’m fine,’ she said testily. ‘Why wouldn’t I be fine? I’m as fine tonight as I was last night, as I have been for the last thirty nights. On none of them were you inspired to come and inspect my health. So why tonight?’

      I took a breath. ‘Because on some nights threats are more obvious than others. Bad things happen, that make me take stock of what worse things could happen. On some nights, it is not the healthiest thing to be the beloved of a bastard.’

      The lines of her mouth went as flat as her voice as she asked, ‘What is that supposed to mean?’

      I took a breath, determined that I would be as honest with her as I was able. ‘I cannot tell you what happened. Only that it made me believe you might be in danger. You will have to trust …’

      ‘That isn’t the part I meant. What do you mean, beloved of a bastard? How do you dare to call me that?’ Her eyes were bright with anger.

      I swear that my heart thudded to a halt in my chest. The cold of death swept through me. ‘It is true, I have no right,’ I said haltingly. ‘But neither is there any way I could stop caring for you. And whether or not I have the right to name you my beloved would not deter those who might seek to injure me by striking at you. How can I say I love you so much that I wish I did not love you, or at least could refrain from showing that I loved you, because my love puts you in such danger and have those words be true?’ Stiffly, I turned to go.

      ‘And how could I possibly dare to say I made sense of your last statement and have it be true?’ Molly wondered aloud.

      Something in her voice made me turn around. For a moment we just looked at one another. Then she burst out laughing. I stood, affronted and grim, as she came to me, still laughing. Then she put her arms around me. ‘Newboy. You take a most roundabout path to finally declare you love me. To break into my room, and then to stand there, tying your tongue in knots about the word love. Could not you simply have said it, a long time ago?’

      I stood stupid in the circle of her arms. I looked down at her. Yes, I realized dully, I had grown that much taller than she.

      ‘Well?’ she prompted, and for a moment I was puzzled.

      ‘I love you, Molly.’ So easy to say, after all. And such a relief. Slowly, cautiously, I put my arms around her.

      She smiled up at me. ‘And I love you.’

      So, finally, I kissed her. In the moment of that kiss, somewhere near Buckkeep a wolf lifted up his voice in a joyous ululation that set every hound to baying and every dog to barking in a chorus that rang against the brittle night sky.

       NINE

       Guards and Bonds

      Oftentimes I understand and commend Fedwren’s stated dream. Had he his way, paper would he as common as bread and every child would learn his letters before he was thirteen. But even were it so, I do not think this would bring to pass all he hopes. He mourns for all the knowledge that goes into a grave each time a man dies, even the commonest of men. He speaks of a time to come when a blacksmith’s way of setting a shoe, or a shipwright’s knack for pulling a drawknife would be set down in letters, that any who could read could learn to do as well. I do not believe it is so, or ever will be. Some things may be learned from words on a page, but some skills are learned first by a man’s hand and heart, and later by his head. I have believed this ever since I saw Mastfish set the fish-shaped block of wood that he was named after into Verity’s first ship. His eyes had seen that mastfish before it existed, and he set his hands to shaping what his heart knew must be. This is not a thing that can be learned from words on a page. Perhaps it cannot be learned at all, but comes, as does the Skill or the Wit, from the blood of one’s forebears.

      I returned to my own chamber and sat watching the dying embers in my hearth, waiting for the rest of the keep to awaken. I should have been exhausted. Instead, I almost trembled with the energy rushing through me. I fancied that if I sat very still, I could still feel the warmth of Molly’s arms around me. I knew precisely where her cheek had touched mine. A very faint scent of her clung to my shirt from our brief embrace, and I agonized over whether to wear the shirt that day, to carry that scent СКАЧАТЬ