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Magician. Raymond E. Feist
Читать онлайн.Название Magician
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780007381432
Автор произведения Raymond E. Feist
Издательство HarperCollins
Pug remembered this morning, as he watched the back of the Princess on her fine white palfrey. He had been kept waiting in the stables for nearly two hours before the Princess appeared with her father. The Duke had lectured Pug at length on his responsibility toward the lady of the castle. Pug had stood mute throughout as the Duke repeated all of Horsemaster Algon’s instructions of the night before. The master of the stables had been instructing him for a week and judged him ready to ride with the Princess – if barely.
Pug had followed her out of the gate, still marveling at his unexpected fortune. He was exuberant, in spite of having spent the night tossing and then skipping breakfast.
Now his mood was changing from boyish adulation to outright irritation. The Princess refused to respond to any of his polite attempts at conversation, except to order him about. Her tone was imperious and rude, and she insisted on calling him ‘boy,’ ignoring several courteous reminders that his name was Pug. She acted little like the poised young woman of the court now, and resembled nothing as much as a spoiled, petulant child.
He had felt awkward at first as he sat atop the old grey dray horse that had been judged sufficient for one of his skills. The mare had a calm nature and showed no inclination to move faster than absolutely necessary.
Pug wore his bright red tunic, the one that Kulgan had given to him, but still looked poorly attired next to the Princess. She was dressed in a simple but exquisite yellow riding dress trimmed in black, and a matching hat. Even sitting sidesaddle, Carline looked like one born to ride, while Pug felt as if he should be walking behind his mare with a plow between. Pug’s horse had an irritating tendency to want to stop every dozen feet to crop grass or nibble at shrubbery, ignoring Pug’s frantic kicks to the side, while the Princess’s excellently trained horse responded instantly to the slightest touch of her crop. She rode along in silence, ignoring the grunts of exertion from the boy behind, who attempted by force of will as much as horsemanship to keep his recalcitrant mount moving.
Pug felt the first stirring of hunger, his dreams of romance surrendering to his normal, fifteen-year-old’s appetite. As they rode, his thoughts turned more and more to the basket of lunch that hung from his saddle horn. After what seemed like an eternity to Pug, the Princess turned to him. ‘Boy, what is your craft?’
Startled by the question after the long silence, Pug stammered his reply. ‘I . . . I’m apprenticed to Master Kulgan.’
She fixed him with a gaze that would have suited her had an insect been found crawling across a dinner plate. ‘Oh. You’re that boy.’ Whatever brief spark of interest there had been went out, and she turned away from him. They rode awhile longer, then the Princess said, ‘Boy, we stop here.’
Pug pulled up his mare, and before he could reach the Princess’s side, she was nimbly down, not waiting for his hand as Master Algon had instructed him she would. She handed him the reins of her horse and walked to the edge of the cliffs.
She stared out to sea for a minute, then, without looking at Pug, said, ‘Do you think I am beautiful?’
Pug stood in silence, not knowing what to say. She turned and looked at him. ‘Well?’
Pug said, ‘Yes, Your Highness.’
‘Very beautiful?’
‘Yes, Your Highness. Very beautiful.’
The Princess seemed to consider this for a moment, then returned her attention to the vista below. ‘It is important for me to be beautiful, boy. Lady Marna says that I must be the most beautiful lady in the Kingdom, for I must find a powerful husband someday, and only the most beautiful ladies in the Kingdom can choose. The homely ones must take whoever will ask for them. She says that I will have many suitors, for Father is very important.’ She turned, and for a brief moment Pug thought he saw a look of apprehension pass over her lovely features. ‘Have you many friends, boy?’
Pug shrugged. ‘Some, Your Highness.’
She studied him for a moment, then said, ‘That must be nice,’ absently brushing aside a wisp of hair that had come loose from under her broad-brimmed riding hat. Something in her seemed so wounded and alone that moment, that Pug found his heart in his throat again. Obviously his expression revealed something to the Princess, for suddenly her eyes narrowed and her mood shifted from thoughtful to regal. In her most commanding voice she announced, ‘We will have lunch now.’ Pug quickly staked the horses and unslung the basket. He placed it on the ground and opened it.
Carline stepped over and said, ‘I will prepare the meal, boy. I’ll not have clumsy hands overturning dishes and spilling wine.’ Pug took a step back as she knelt and began unpacking the lunch. Rich odors of cheese and bread assailed Pug’s nostrils, and his mouth watered.
The Princess looked up at him. ‘Walk the horses over the hill to the stream and water them. You may eat as we ride back. I’ll call you when I have eaten.’ Suppressing a groan, Pug took the horses’ reins and started walking. He kicked at some loose stones, emotions conflicting within him as he led the horses along. He knew he wasn’t supposed to leave the girl, but he couldn’t very well disobey her either. There was no one else in sight, and trouble was unlikely this far from the forest. Additionally he was glad to be away from Carline for a little while.
He reached the stream and unsaddled the mounts; he brushed away the damp saddle and girth marks, then left their reins upon the ground. The palfrey was trained to ground-tie, and the draft horse showed no inclination to wander far. They cropped grass while Pug found a comfortable spot to sit. He considered the situation and found himself perplexed. Carline was still the loveliest girl he had ever seen, but her manner was quickly taking the sheen off his fascination. For the moment his stomach was of larger concern than the girl of his dreams. He thought perhaps there was more to this love business than he had imagined.
He amused himself for a while by speculation on that. When he grew bored, he went to look for stones in the water. He hadn’t had much opportunity to practice with his sling of late, and now was a good time. He found several smooth stones and took out his sling. He practiced by picking out targets among the small trees some distance off, startling the birds in residence there. He hit several clusters of bitter berries, missing only one target out of six. Satisfied his aim was still as good as always, he tucked his sling in his belt. He found several more stones that looked especially promising and put them in his pouch. He judged the girl must be nearly through, and he started toward the horses to saddle them so that when she called, he’d be ready.
As he reached the Princess’s horse, a scream sounded from the other side of the hill. He dropped the Princess’s saddle and raced to the crest and, when he cleared the ridge, stopped in shock. The hair on his neck and arms stood on end.
The Princess was running, and close in pursuit were a pair of trolls. Trolls usually didn’t venture this far from the forest, and Pug was unprepared for the sight of them. They were humanlike, but short and broad, with long, thick arms that hung nearly to the ground. They ran on all fours as often as not, looking like some comic parody of an ape, their bodies covered by thick grey hide and their lips drawn back, revealing long fangs. The ugly creatures rarely troubled a group of humans, but they would attack a lone traveler from time to time.
Pug hesitated for a moment, pulling his sling from his belt and loading a stone; then he charged down the hill, whirling his sling above his head. The creatures had nearly overtaken the Princess when he let fly with a stone. It caught the foremost troll in the side of the head, knocking it for a full somersault. The second stumbled into it, and both went down in a tangle. Pug stopped as they regained their feet, their attention diverted from Carline to their attacker. They roared at Pug, then charged. Pug ran back up the hill. He knew that if he could reach the horses, he could outrun them, circle around for the girl, and be safely away. He looked over his shoulder and saw them coming – huge canine teeth bared, long foreclaws tearing up the ground. Downwind, he could smell their rank, rotting-meat odor.