JК
The Floodgate :: Каннингем Элейн
Страница: 163 из 212"
An old story cameback to him. Shortly after her marriage to Dhamari, Keturah had traveled to Basel's home city of Halar in the company of an Exchelsor merchant band. One of the hired swords had laid rough hands on her-and lost them up to the elbows to her defensive magic. Her indignation grew when the caravan master explained that the mercenary had mistaken her for the camp doxie. A few words with the woman convinced Keturah that the «doxie» had not chosen this life. She had insisted that the woman be released in her care, and she had given her employment in her tower, and quietly trained the woman's magical gifts.
"A courtesan can still be a lady, regardless of the circumstances of her birth or her profession," Basel pointed out.
"Courtesan!" she scoffed. "That's still putting it too high! My mother could claim that title. She was a wizard's mistress. Guess what that makes me?"
"Illegitimate or not, if you know your father's name and lineage, you are guaranteed certain rights and a wizard's training."
"Oh, I know the name, but he was married into a powerful family and didn't wish to embarrass them. So I was sent away. I was handed over to a merchant's company as a sort of movable entertainment."
The enormity of this revelation stunned Basel into silence.
Any words that came to mind only trivialized such betrayal.
After a moment Sinestra shrugged. "An old tale, badly told. Whatever you're going to do to me, get on with it."
"All I require from you is an explanation. Why did you come here looking for Keturah's talisman?"
"I didn't. I came looking for your apprentice."
Basel studied the woman. She was already reverting to her enchanted appearance: her hair was darkening to black, and her skin was no longer sallow but golden and smooth. He had worked on such cloaking spells before. "If I'm not mistaken, the spell you wear is Keturah's."
"I don't have that much talent," she agreed. "It's a permanent spell. Nothing will touch it but the powder Keturah gave me, and you can bet I don't use that very often! The medallion was mine, though, in a manner of speaking. I bought it for Keturah. She was a good friend and a generous mistress. I kept every coin she gave me toward the day when I could repay her."
Something in her tone set off warnings in Basel's mind. "Why did you think that would be necessary?"
Sinestra's face-now fully reverted to its young and beautiful form-twisted with frustration. "I can't tell you."
"I see," mused Basel.
An old story cameback to him. Shortly after her marriage to Dhamari, Keturah had traveled to Basel's home city of Halar in the company of an Exchelsor merchant band. One of the hired swords had laid rough hands on her-and lost them up to the elbows to her defensive magic. Her indignation grew when the caravan master explained that the mercenary had mistaken her for the camp doxie. A few words with the woman convinced Keturah that the «doxie» had not chosen this life. She had insisted that the woman be released in her care, and she had given her employment in her tower, and quietly trained the woman's magical gifts.
"A courtesan can still be a lady, regardless of the circumstances of her birth or her profession," Basel pointed out.
"Courtesan!" she scoffed. "That's still putting it too high! My mother could claim that title. She was a wizard's mistress. Guess what that makes me?"
"Illegitimate or not, if you know your father's name and lineage, you are guaranteed certain rights and a wizard's training."
"Oh, I know the name, but he was married into a powerful family and didn't wish to embarrass them. So I was sent away. I was handed over to a merchant's company as a sort of movable entertainment."
The enormity of this revelation stunned Basel into silence.
Any words that came to mind only trivialized such betrayal.
After a moment Sinestra shrugged. "An old tale, badly told. Whatever you're going to do to me, get on with it."
"All I require from you is an explanation. Why did you come here looking for Keturah's talisman?"
"I didn't. I came looking for your apprentice."
Basel studied the woman. She was already reverting to her enchanted appearance: her hair was darkening to black, and her skin was no longer sallow but golden and smooth. He had worked on such cloaking spells before. "If I'm not mistaken, the spell you wear is Keturah's."
"I don't have that much talent," she agreed. "It's a permanent spell. Nothing will touch it but the powder Keturah gave me, and you can bet I don't use that very often! The medallion was mine, though, in a manner of speaking. I bought it for Keturah. She was a good friend and a generous mistress. I kept every coin she gave me toward the day when I could repay her."
Something in her tone set off warnings in Basel's mind. "Why did you think that would be necessary?"
Sinestra's face-now fully reverted to its young and beautiful form-twisted with frustration. "I can't tell you."
"I see," mused Basel.