Fletcher Pratt The Blue Star

[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

and he looked along himself uncomfortably, seeing for the first time how the
Page 80
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
black servant's costume he had from Mathurin was all streaked, dirty and
odorous, with a tear at the breast where the badge had been wrenched off.
There was no desire to present himself to the world in such an appearance. He
shrank back behind the table into the angle made by panelling and the tall
settee to think and wait out his time, watching the room around him. On the
floor of the place, the press of breakfasters was relaxing; maids were
deliberate over clattering dishes, calling to one another in strong, harsh
voices. He could not catch the eye of any to use his Blue Star in reading her
thought, which might have been a pastime; and his own affairs were in such
suspense and turmoil that thinking seemed little use. After a while the shame
of merely crouching there overcame that of his garb, so he got up and went
outside.
The town was in full tide, and noisy. There was no clear vista in any
direction, the streets lacking Netznegon city's long boulevards, angling and
winding instead. The buildings were set well apart from each other. Rodvard
feared being lost among the intricacies of these avenues, therefore formed the
design of keeping buildings on his right hand and so going around a square,
crossing no streets, which must ultimately bring him safely to his
starting-place.
The district was one of houses of commerce, mingled with tall, blank-faced
tenements. A droll fact: there were no children in sight. In the
shop-windows were many articles of clothing, so beautifully made they might
have been worn by lords and princesses. He did not see many other goods, save
in one window that displayed a quantity of clerks' materials, rolls of
parchment, quills and books, nearly all finely arabesqued or gilded which
set him to wondering about what manner of clerks worked with such tools.
The inn swung round its circle to present him its door again. It was not yet
the meridian, therefore he crossed the street and made another circuit, this
time reaching a street where there were many warehouses with carts unloading.
Round the turn from this was a house of religion, with the two pillars
surmounted by an arch, as in Dossola, but the arch was altered by being marked
with the device of a pair of clasped hands, carved in wood. A
man came out; like the one who had rescued Rodvard from the ship, he was
dressed in grey. The look of his face and cant of his head were so like the
other's that Rodvard almost spoke to him before discovering he was heavier
built. The grey clothing must be a kind of uniform or costume.
A wall bordered the grounds of this building, with a cobbled alley, which had
a trickle down its middle. Rodvard followed it, pausing to look at wind-torn
placards which lay one over the other, proclaiming now a festival for a
byegone date, the departure of a ship for Tritulacca, a notice against the
perusal of the latest book by Prince Pavinius, or a fair for the sale of goods
made by certain persons called the Myonessae, a new word to Rodvard.
The alley at length carried him to face the inn again. He wished for a book
to beguile the time, but that being a vain desire, went in to seek his former
place. Not until he sat down did he see that the nook opposite him was
occupied.
It was a little man, hunched in a long cloak, so old that his nose hooked over
his chin, making him look like a bird. Before him was a mug of pale beer; he
was deep in thought and did not look up as Rodvard sat down, but after a
moment or two sipped, smacked his lips and said; "Work, work, work, that's all
they think of."
Said Rodvard (glad of any company); "It does not do to work too heavily."
The gaffer still did not elevate his eyes. "I can remember, I can, how it
used to be in the Grand Governor's time, before he called himself Prophet,
when on holy days we did not labor. And we going out on the streets to watch
processions pass from Service with the colors and silks, but now they only
sneak off to the churches as though they were ashamed of it, then work, work,
work,"
Page 81
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
He drank more of his beer. Rodvard was somewhat touched by his speech, for
though he was hardly one to defend Amorosians to each other, it was just these
processions in silks while so many were without bread that bore hard on
Dossola. He said; "Ser, it would seem to me that no man would worry for
working, if he could have his reward." The old man lifted his eyes from his
mug (Rodvard catching behind them a feeling of indifference to any reward but
calm) and said; "Silence for juniors, speech for seniors."
One of the maids approached; Rodvard asked for his bread and cheese and beer,
and drew from her a smile so generous that he looked sharp (and saw that she
would welcome an advance, but the thought at the back of her mind was money).
The ancient shivered down into his cloak again, not speaking till she was
gone.
Then he said; "Reward, eh? What use is your reward and finding money to spend
when it buys nothing but gaudy clothes and a skinfull of liquor, no credit or
position at all? Answer me that. I tell you I would not be unhappy if we
went back to the old Queen's rule, and that's the truth, even if they send me
to instruction for it."
"Ser, may I pose you a question?" asked Rodvard.
"Questions show proper respect and willingness to be taught. Ask it." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

Archiwum