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32

— Oh, dan Millit, it was divine!

The reverent silence that reigned when the echo of the last chord dissolved in the breath of the listeners was broken by a rustle of delights that did not develop into loud exclamations only because women, young and rejuvenating, such an open display of feelings is not to face, and men themselves will not dare to admit that the song touched the heart hidden behind the steel shell of dispassion.

The musician, in whose smile duly coexisted modesty with the satisfaction of a wonderfully done job, bowed, accepting well-deserved praise, and answered his admirers:

- What are you, daneke, my merits are not so great. These lines do not belong to my pen at all, I only took the liberty of entrusting them to music and performing before ...

- It must be becoming a tradition - to use other people's property without asking.

I did not shout, and in general did not attach any special expression to my voice, but in the rumble of enthusiastic breaths my words sounded distinctly and unexpectedly loud. Everyone heard me, starting with Viger, who looked up in bewilderment from his fingers clasped into the castle, and ending with a couple in chairs against the opposite wall. If everything always worked out the way it was meant to… I would pray to the gods. Together with generous offerings.

The courtiers gathered in the hall looked at me. Someone with surprise, someone with despondency, but not one dared to disregard my remark. And when attention reached its peak, I stood up and slowly, swaying a little, went straight across the hall to my adored wife.

Nais, perhaps the only one who didn’t deign me with a long look (there was a short one, someone, but I always feel it), didn’t move, even when the toe of my right boot stepped on the scarlet silk of the hem, sprawled on the parquet. On the other hand, the uninvited boyfriend visibly tensed up, which was first of all indicated by indecently slowed down breathing. Fool! It is necessary to calm the pulse, and not humble the movements of the chest: what is the use of long inhalations and exhalations if the vein at your temple beats like a bird in a cage?

I stood and silently looked at my wife. He looked down at the straight parting going from the forehead to the back of the head, at the carefully whipped curls twined with pink pearl threads, at the hands folded on her knees (exactly like then, in our first meeting), at the slowly rising and falling chest , disappointingly small for its owner, but so desirable for me ...

An eternity has passed. A full minute until Dagerth Illis got to his feet (he was about the same height as me) and asked:

"Is there anything you want, dan?"

I did not answer, running my eyes over my favorite features for the last time, knocked the rest of the wine into my mouth, put my hand with the glass aside, thought a little and unclenched my fingers.

Ding! The crystal was too thin - it shattered into smithereens. The whispering in the hall has finally died down, as the wind subsides before a thunderstorm. Looking for thunder and lightning? I will not deceive expectations.

— I want a lot, dan. But not in your performance.

He exhaled, short and angry. Of course, my words did not yet reach the level of insult, but when used skillfully, they were nothing more than a seed. And Dagert seemed to understand this, because, according to the re-amitter, he was not a fool at all.

Well, how do you do, boy? Step aside like a reasonable person? Wedge into the squabble of the spouses, like a noble, but narrow-minded bungler? Both options will suit me. And you?

“Do you want something from this daneke?”

Are you clarifying? Well done. I myself like to clarify if I do not delve into the essence of the matter.

No need to answer: I stand and grin, looking the guy straight in the eyes. Nais is silent, as if she had already filled her mouth with water for the entire duration of the reception.

Daneke is not in the mood to talk to you. Or did you not notice it?

I'm sore? Bravo! Bold guy. Or the ignorant one. Indeed, if I didn't know him by sight, he might just as well not know me.

Daneke didn't say a word. Are you so well aware of her desires? From where? Are you that close?

The index finger of Nais's right hand trembled, but the silence was not broken. Will he pretend until the very end that I don't exist? To health! But Dagert, it seems, is ready to flare up and blaze with a hot flame. Shall we add some oil?

— I don't remember your name, dan. But the face seems familiar to me ... By chance, aren't you standing on the clock at the royal bedroom every third and twentieth day of the month?

Brown eyes gleamed with the rust of coals. Hmm, looks like I overdid it. The protection of Her Majesty's bedroom in itself is a completely respected and even honorable thing, but not for young and promising officers, whose place is in the ranks, and not in the palace corridors. But to intercede on watch precisely on those days when Ruala does not visit her chambers ... A kind of punishment for the guilty, since it makes no sense, but requires impeccable execution.

Dagert mastered his anger and hissed:

— You misunderstood, dan.

Twice well done. But I won't be me if I don't get my way:

“Ah, haven’t you been honored to be a sentry yet?” What a pity…

He moved closer to me and hissed:

“I don’t know your name, dan, and I don’t want to know, but in order to cross swords, it’s not necessary to be introduced to each other?

- In what you are right, in that you are right. Not at all necessary.

“Then I would suggest that we go out and—”

Why should we go anywhere? There is enough space here. Or do you not dare to disturb the peace of the palace with the ringing of steel?

But now he behaved not in the most dignified manner. A person who retains a cold mind even in dangerous situations would immediately remember that arranging a duel within the royal residence is punishable, the severity of which is determined personally by Her Majesty, and would rather allow himself to be called a coward than break the law. But Dagert, either intoxicated by the wine vapors that I generously exhaled in his face, or seriously offended, forgot about etiquette.

The young man went to the center of the hall and unfastened the scabbard from the sling.

- To battle!

The courtiers shivered in the corners. Nais's fingers were already trembling on both hands, finely, finely, but her lips remained tightly compressed.

“One minute, dan,” I asked. "Let me get hold of a weapon, too."

Little problem. My sharp-toothed daneke basks at home in the Toris mansion, and no one, of course, bothered to deliver her into my loving arms. I never had a ceremonial toothpick, because I very rarely take part in ceremonies, and those that are admitted do not involve weapons or allow me to have a familiar blade. Where can I get a picker? Oh, and here she comes to me!

Ray, what does this mean?

Viger stopped a step away from me and tried to speak as quietly as possible.

- What do you see.

Are you going to have a duel?

- Already.

I smile carelessly and innocently, like a small child.

Ray, do you know what you're doing?

- Don't worry, buddy! You better lend me woo-o-o-he that wand that swings around your belt, huh?

- It is a bad idea.

- This is a great idea.

"Ray, can't you just--"

- I can, I can’t, but you can’t explain this to the guy opposite. Look how nervous he is: another minute of delay, and he will cut into ribbons the first one that comes to hand!

Viger shook his head.

“Ray, something tells me that he wasn’t responsible for the duel at all.

— Does it matter? Challenged and accepted, what more do you need? Will you lend me a sword? Keep in mind, if you don’t lend me, I will fight with my bare hands, I will cut myself, and you will never forgive yourself that ...

“I won’t forgive you, that’s for sure,” the re-amiter sighed, “that I followed your lead.” Hold on!

And I became the proud owner of the uniform sword of an officer of the City Guard. Not boarding, of course, but also not bad: a longer, narrower, braided guard, but the weaving is almost continuous - you can’t pierce with the tip. Judging by the gloss of the edge, the picker is well sharpened. In general, why shouldn't she be sharp? This is not a front bauble, but a completely working tool that Vig uses (correction: should be able to use) every day.

The bow, bent under the guard, comfortably settled down between the middle and forefinger and rubbed against them like an affectionate cat. It's good to be of similar proportions - and you can use the same weapon! It’s been a long time since I wove dueling laces… True, my opponent is also not one of the court bums, and we will fight specifically and… I would like to believe, not for long, because I simply can’t “for a long time”: I need to conserve my strength. I have a lot of things to do, and they will need even more strength ...

I salute with a naked blade and invite:

- To battle!

Daneke, screeching, rush out of the hall, some accompanied by their own and other gentlemen. Millit also chose to leave, and I can guess why: the outcome of the fight is quite predictable, which means that inspiration will not find food.

Or “impossible”: Dagert’s first attack made me dodge with all possible agility, because I managed to substitute the sword under the attacking blade only in the third closest to the guard.

Turn. Touch. Hot breath stings your cheek. And you're fast, man! Very fast. Bravo!

Push. Rebound. The swords, not yet having time to break away from each other, are again intertwined in an embrace. Forward. Whack-whack-whack. The scrape of steel. I would feel sorry for the old sick man!

Yep, regret it. We keep our distance. Three breaths for a break, and again the attack. And, characteristically, again, not on my part. The guy was taught to push without looking back at the defense? You can take advantage of this. Probably not a very good teacher has been caught: only simpletons believe that a dagger or something else is supposed to be used for protection with a sword. In fact, everything you need is already there. My mentor and, concurrently, my father, said in the very first lesson: “If you have a sword, you do not need a shield. All of you, from head to toe, can hide behind a cup of guards. Indeed, there is no more reliable protection from the enemy's blade than the guard of one's own sword. Of course, you don’t need to take it to the extreme and let someone else’s edge so close, but even in this case, the last shield is still with you ...

M-yes, you have to run and jump. Just a little. Although a thoroughly broken body is against and sensitively declares this. And how tempting it would be to just stand still, catch his blade with the tip of yours, parry it, make a wide lunge and... see what color the opponent's blood is. True, I’ll see something from two haga - on such and such a red camisole.

But in vain you raised the blade so high ... Whack! Chirk! And the boots had to be chosen not beautiful, but soft, so that the ankle would not be clamped in a vise. I always wear these, that's why I was able to "sit down" in a stomp, and then return to the starting position. What didn't you like? And it's just a scratch. Unpleasant, I do not argue: on the thigh, across the muscle fibers, but not fatal.

I smile:

- Yet?

Attacks, no longer repeating the previous mistake. Well done, able to learn on the go. But the absence of past mistakes does not prevent new ones from appearing, right?

Long series of exchanges. Just like schoolchildren, honestly! Who fights like this? Real masters generally manage with one injection, but we ... Just that sparks do not fly. But Dagert's agility has diminished, and that's good. Shaking the horse to the fullest?

I take a risk, beating someone else's blade to the left along the "dawn horizon" [17] , striking back somewhere in the area of ​​​​the enemy's forearm and bouncing back. Reached out? Managed? Phew, lucky! Still, he is too fast for me: I should have figured it out earlier - by the dryness and length of the muscles, clearly discernible under the not too wide suit. Well, yes, having removed the head, through the hair, as you know ...

- Yet?

I smile. Wide-wide. I'm almost rocking.

He glances at the wounded hand for a fraction of a moment, but then looks forward again. On me.

Yeah, he doesn’t try to shift to the left. "One-handed"? And then lucky. The chance of running into a "two-handed" was greater, because among the guards there are a lot of those who equally hold a picker with both their right and left hands. However, it is quite possible that Dagert is delicately wielding a dagger or throwing knives, then he does not need to accustom his other hand to the weight of a long blade. Everything can be...

And he does not intend to give up, even obviously losing. It's a pity. You also need to be able to give up, otherwise you will die before the allotted time.

Lunge, grab, jerk - the sword, dullly ringing, hits the parquet, the polishing of which has suffered badly from our "dances".

- Yet?

The point of my blade stops a hand's length from Dagerth's chest, and I indulge in something I never indulge in in combat. I look into brown eyes that have not lost a spark.

- Yet?

A weak but stubborn blow throws a strip of steel up.

- Leave him.

We haven't finished arguing yet.

She stands, with difficulty holding a sword too heavy for her in one hand and struggles with the desire to intercept the hilt more comfortably. He fights because he knows that one cannot show weakness even for a moment. With me, you can't. Who else could explain to me why Nais drove this into her pretty head so hard that no tongs could pull it out?

- Leave him.

- Don't interfere. It doesn't concern you.

- Me? Doesn't apply?

She finds the strength to smile, crooked and evil.

“Leave him…monster.”

Oh something new. Did I get a new rank? I would like to believe, honorable.

- Get away.

- Or?

She is as stubborn as a thousand hhags. But don't be more stubborn than me.

Or I will fight you.

A short breathy breath.

- So fight!

Nais looks into my eyes. Directly. Don't hide feelings. First time in so many days. I have already managed to forget how beautiful her look is, deep as the sky above my head, in which, if you look closely, you can see the stars ...

Ready to stand up for anyone, just not to be on the side of the spouse. What a shame! Well, you wanted it.

My hand goes back, just a little, to make the lunge faster, and ...

— Dan Ra-Gro! You have crossed all boundaries!

I won’t say that the queen’s voice, even filled with righteous anger, can somehow influence me, but if you add the rattling of the cuirasses of hefty guardsmen to it, I, perhaps, will first think a little, and then I will act. According to circumstances.

Her Majesty Ruala nevertheless deigned to come to the personally arranged reception, which, admittedly, was a success. Are there broken dishes? Available. Is the blood shed attached? Attached. Frightened daneke available? And where will they go? There, they hid behind the backs of their husbands and guards, pleased that they managed to tell the queen about the indecency happening in her residence, committed, as usual, by the main misfortune and punishment of Antreya.

And what urgent affairs of state harassed our good ruler so much that she was distracted only by the sound of blades? She must have considered another candidate for a wife. Not "eye to eye", of course, but according to the most accurate and impartial descriptions of authorized persons. Togo and look will get married, make us all happy with heirs and hit a quiet family life ... No, we won’t let it! Who will run the city if not her?

And the future husband has something to envy, because Ruala is not the last beauty in her own court. Tall, full-blooded, stately, but this is the “become” of an affectionate domestic cat, and not the beast that cuts sheep herds in the foothills. Even the dark red hair fire and that cozy one, like a hearth flame. Only the eyes spoil the picture: yellow, unblinking, like a real predator. And expressing little, which confuses the ambassadors of friendly countries, since no one can read the thoughts of the queen in them.

Still, Her Majesty was going to the reception: the silk of the dress is pale pink, and grains of corals are scattered over it in an intricate pattern. A heavy outfit, right, it turns out ...

“How dare you draw your weapons within the royal residence?”

Hey smart girl! She will never say “my residence”, respecting the will of the townspeople who once gave power to her great-great-great-great-grandmother. That's why Antrea loves her queens. For a long memory.

“I had my reasons.

“You better actually have one, dan. Are you accountable for what you did?

“As always, Your Majesty.

Yellow eyes squint.

- Your "as always" means all or nothing?

- Choose according to your taste.

“I will,” Ruala promises. “Until then, you will be held in custody.

“And how long will I wait for your decision?”

A wicked smile appears on full lips:

- As always.

- Excellent. - I bow, adjusted for the corset, so it comes out too dry. - I do not hurry. Moreover, I myself will not leave the place of detention until…

What would be the condition? Real but impossible? The glance runs through the crowd of courtiers, lingering on the red cloth of Dagert's camisole, on the forearm of which a dark spot is slowly but surely spreading.

“Until this dan here apologizes to me sincerely!”