Название | The Redemption of Althalus |
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Автор произведения | David Eddings |
Жанр | Героическая фантастика |
Серия | |
Издательство | Героическая фантастика |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9780007375097 |
‘Did he ever get around to telling you whether or not he accepted your vow?’ Althalus asked slyly. ‘Maybe you don’t qualify.’
The auburn-haired young man’s eyes grew even more troubled.
‘You’re filled with doubts, aren’t you, friend?’ Althalus said sympathetically. ‘I know that feeling very, very well. Sometimes your faith falters and everything you want to believe seems to be nothing but a mockery and a deception – some cruel joke.’
‘I want to believe! I try so hard to make myself believe.’
‘Eliar and I are here to make it easier for you,’ Althalus assured him. ‘Show him the Knife, Eliar.’
‘If you say so,’ Eliar said obediently. He looked at the troubled priest. ‘Don’t get excited about this, Your Worship,’ he said. ‘I’m going to show my Knife to you. I’m not threatening you with it or anything. There’s some writing on the blade that you’re supposed to read to us. If you can’t read it, we’ll shake hands and part friends. If you do happen to see a word on the blade, you’ll be joining us. This is that test Althalus was talking about.’
‘Just show him the Knife, Eliar,’ Althalus said. ‘You don’t have to make a speech to him.’
‘He gets grouchy sometimes,’ Eliar told the now-baffled priest. ‘He’s the oldest man in the world, and you know how grouchy old men get sometimes. We’d better get down to business before he starts jumping up and down and frothing at the mouth.’
‘Eliar!’ Althalus almost shouted. ‘Show him the Knife!’
‘You see what I mean about him?’ Eliar said. He took the Knife out from under his belt and pointed at the complex engraving on the blade. ‘This is what you’re supposed to try to read,’ he explained. ‘The word sort of jumps right out at you, so you don’t really have to work at it too hard.’
‘Eliar!’ Althalus almost pleaded.
‘I’m just trying to help him, Althalus.’ Eliar held the hilt of the dagger firmly in his fist and turned his hand to hold the blade directly in front of the trembling priest’s pale face. ‘What does it say. Your Worship?’ he asked politely.
The youthful priest went paler still, as if every drop of blood had drained from his face. ‘Illuminate,’ he replied so reverently that it seemed almost a prayer.
The dagger in Eliar’s fist broke into joyful song.
‘I knew he was the one, Althalus,’ Eliar said in an off-hand sort of way. ‘That’s why I was trying to sort of ease him into it. You’re a fairly good sergeant, but sometimes you’re just a little rough. You ought to work on that, if you don’t mind my saying so.’
‘Thanks,’ Althalus replied in a flat, almost unfriendly way.
‘It’s part of my job, Althalus,’ Eliar replied, tucking the Knife back under his belt. ‘I’m sort of your second in command, so if I see a way to do things better, I’m supposed to suggest it to you. You don’t have to listen if you don’t want to, of course, but I’d be letting you down if I didn’t say it, wouldn’t I?’
‘Don’t say anything, Althalus,’ Emmy silently commanded.
Althalus sighed. ‘No, dear,’ he replied in a resigned tone.
The auburn-haired young priest had sunk limply down onto a mossy stone, and he sat staring at the ground in a kind of distracted wonder.
‘Are you all right?’ Eliar asked their new companion.
‘I have seen the word of God,’ the priest replied in a trembling voice. ‘Deiwos has spoken to me.’
‘Yes,’ Eliar replied. ‘We heard him, too.’ Then he amended that. ‘Well, actually we heard the Knife, but since it’s God’s Knife in the first place, it sort of amounts to the same thing, I guess.’
‘Why did the Knife make that sound?’ The priest’s voice was still shaking and filled with awe.
‘I think that’s God’s way of letting us know that you’re the one we’ve been looking for. My name’s Eliar.’
‘I’m known as Bheid,’ the priest replied, looking into the young Arum’s face with a puzzled expression.
‘I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Bheid,’ Eliar said, grasping the priest’s hand.
‘Aren’t you a bit young to be a holy man?’ Bheid asked. ‘Most holy men I’ve known are much older.’
Eliar laughed. ‘Nobody’s ever called me a holy man before, and I’m not, really. I’m just a soldier who happens to be working for God right now. I don’t really understand what’s going on, but that’s all right. A soldier doesn’t have to understand. He just has to do as he’s told.’
Bheid started to rise, but Eliar put one hand on his shoulder. ‘It might be better if you sat still for a while,’ he suggested. ‘If you’re feeling at all the way I did when I first read the Knife, you’re probably a little wobbly right now. God’s got a very loud voice. I’m sure you noticed that.’
‘Oh, yes,’ Bheid replied fervently. ‘What are we supposed to do now?’
‘You’ll have to ask Althalus here. He’s the only one who can talk to Emmy, and Emmy’s the one who makes the decisions.’
‘Who’s Emmy?’
‘As I understand it, she’s the sister of God, but right now she sort of looks like a cat, and she spends all her time sleeping in that hood Althalus has on the back of his cloak. It’s sort of complicated. Emmy’s older than the sun, and she’s very sweet, but if you make a mistake and cross her, she’ll swat the end of your nose right off.’
Bheid looked at Althalus. ‘Is this boy all right?’ he asked.
‘Eliar?’ Althalus replied. ‘I think so. Of course he hasn’t had anything to eat for an hour or two, so he might be a little light-headed.’
‘I don’t understand any of this at all,’ Bheid confessed.
‘Good. That’s the first step toward wisdom.’
‘This might all make more sense if I knew your sign, Althalus – and Eliar’s as well. If I can cast your horoscopes, I’ll probably know just who you are.’
‘Do you actually believe that, Bheid?’ Althalus asked.
‘Astrology’s the core of all religion,’ Bheid told him. ‘Deiwos has written our destinies in the stars. The duty of the priesthood is to study the stars so that we can give man the word of God. What’s your sign? When were you born?’
‘A very long time ago, Bheid,’ Althalus said with a faint smile. ‘I don’t think you’d have much luck trying to cast my horoscope, because the stars have changed a lot since then. They had different names, and the people who looked at the skies didn’t see them in the same combinations that you do. Half of the Wolf was the bottom of something the old sky-watchers called the Turtle, and what astrologers call the Boar now was the top half.’
‘That’s blasphemy!’ Bheid exclaimed.
‘I wouldn’t worry about it too much, Bheid. Those astrologers all died, so they won’t be able to accuse you.’
‘That’s not what I meant.’
‘I know, but they’d see it that way, wouldn’t they?’ Althalus put his hand on Bheid’s arm. ‘There aren’t really any pictures in the sky, you know. As I said before, the stars aren’t connected with each other to make