Dragon’s Empire – 4. Rose for dragon - Natalie Yacobson 5 стр.


«I dont play with fire, Vincent,» I explained strictly. «I myself create a flame and the prince should pray that one day it did not hit his head. I hesitated too long.»

«You think that becoming a deliverer of one victim, you will cross the entire black list of the prince. Be sure he will be replenished.»

«It is impossible! The ring remained with Rose and at the first opportunity I will destroy it. No ring means no shackles.»

«Rose? She is now visiting her cousin. I know for sure, I asked for reliable people.»

Vincent could not believe that for the first time, the reliable informants were not right.

«I was sure,» he shook his head and chestnut curls fell on his forehead. Over the past time, they have become a little longer and with the slightest movement climbed into the eyes, so Vincent constantly had to tidy his hair.

«You can not believe anyone, especially me,» I decided to mock at Vincent, but I said the pure truth. I was such a dangerous creation. Rose did the right thing that concerned to me with suspicion.

Vincent sighed with relief, realizing that I intend to carry a violin with me. I already hid it under the raincoat, trying not to pay attention to the scarlet drops from it.

«Edwin,» Vincent called me when I was already going to leave. He stood motionless, arms crossed on his chest, and peered at me for a long time and carefully, as if trying to determine if I would take seriously to what he would say. «You have no one refuge, but wherever you are, do not let anyone unfamiliar.»

I grinned, consider Vincent very naive. Did it really understand that unhappy was the one who would knock at my door. Whether this guest had good or evil intentions, the demon was waiting for him. If suddenly, the midnight killer would attack me, hoping to find a sacrifice, then for him it would be an unpleasant surprise to find himself unexpectedly in the dragons claws. So it was with everyone who attacked me. I turned my face to the attacker and, having met with me, he retreated in indescribable horror, understanding that it was too late, because all his fears were standing in front of him, embodied in one half an aristocratic, half demonic creature.

Coming out of the house, I turned around and noticed that the window frames, really, were scratched. I recently saw exactly the same traces of claws, just not in Lara, but very far from here, on the floor of the hut, lost in the forests dense.

Squeezing the violin under the arm, I walked around the dark city easily and naturally, as if a student of the Music faculty, just released on vacation. Inside me everything was strained as a string. I listened to every sound, every vibration of someones too free thoughts, but did not catch what I was afraid. No one in the city has thought about the uprising. Otherwise, I would immediately felt it, passing by any dark window, followed by conspirators in this minute, or even a couple of days ago. The dragon was harsh, but didnt kill citizens, did not deprive the title of famous noblemen, did not take the lions share of urban treasures, but only a small, almost symbolic annual tribute. It was equally for residents whom they would pay taxes to the dragon or to the king. In addition, the dragon rarely appeared in the local society. So that people could whisper on whether they were in the power of the dragon, but the golden clawed paw did not knock them at the window in the middle of the night. Fear did not fade, but did not ignite. They were already were used to me, to my rapid silent steps along the night pavement, to the house disappeared from the square, to the golden scope of the wings and a musical whistle in the transcendental altitude.

The violin of Debora was not heavier than the stack of books, but suddenly it began to pull out my hand. There was a cold sweat on my forehead, as if something frightened me. But what could frightened me? The very idea was absurd. What could cause me fear? Empty streets, dark windows, echo of my own steps or a quiet annoying rustle of the wings somewhere behind, in the alley or on the next street.

I carried the violin carelessly on the bending of the elbow, as a textbook and, I honestly, wanted to throw it into the first roadside ditch, so as not to hear more of these obsessive tramping or rustling sounds. From such an act I was stopped only by precaution. And suddenly, some tramp wanted to pick up the violin and it would be awaken an evil, sleeping somewhere far away in the burned sun and the desert fire.

There was no one in the street, there was no one in front of the square.. In altitude were no spirits or fairies nor angels. I was the only supernatural creature in the whole city, not counting Vincent. Probably he was right, all evil was in the violin. For the first time I had a feeling that someone flew after me. I returned to the castle and put the violin on the table in the music room.

I used to live alone and I did not need to hide anything. It was necessary to understand that Rose would be much more curious than her sculptural copy in niche. Among the whole collection of musical instruments, the violin would not be as noticeable, but on the table, the abandoned and wrapped with a bloody cloth it looked more than defiant.

«I didnt kill anyone,» I warned Rose, who entered the room.

In a new dress, Rose looked amazingly and somehow unnaturally. She was too beautiful to be alive, she seemed to be the original of the dark niche. It was simply the details that I did not notice: very long eyelashes, a pearl thread on the neck, and a wreath of roses in her hair.

Inaccessible Rose was here in the castle, although it seemed impossible before. I swore to myself that I would never part with her, as if fate would not be angry against us.

«Did you hurt?» She stepped closer, trying to consider the same bloody spots as on the taffeta and on my clothes.

«No,» I amazed, no one was worried about my health. «Blood is not mine.»

«And whose blood is it?»

«Its just a find, a gift of fate, you can even say a military trophy. It is a pity to throw it out, so I take it with me.»

«Do you know how to play on it?» Rose wanted to touch the strings, but changed her mind.

«If Ill want I can play,» this meant that magic would allow me to all that I wish. «I do not want, the passion for the music remained in the distant past.»

«In the distant past?» asked Rose with suspicion. She briefly peered into my face, trying to look for at least one wrinkle, but it was vain searches. She never dared to ask such an ordinary for people question «how old you are,» because she was afraid to hear the truth. I lost myself the count, it was too much happened since I was free from the peculiar training class of the prince. I remembered only the date of my birth and the fact that my life was cut off at twenty two years, but it was so long ago. So much has changed since then, and I remained the same. Perhaps Rose awaits the same thing, to remain like now and never change. She learns about it when she will be brave when she can understand without fear that only a full magician can go out unharmed from this fortress.

«Someone hated this thing much,» Rose pointed to scratches at the violin.

I grinned, remembering that Vincent had all the foundations for such hatred. He hated Debora, and did not hide it. He experienced hostility to all things that reminded him of her. How did these flaws appear on the instrument? Most likely Vincent wanted to destroy the subject that was so dear to Debora. Only it is easier to use claws against the violin than to heal the already applied scars on the skin. After examining Vincent, I could say that even a small revenge for him was preferable to inaction, but for some reason I wanted to check how it really was. I put my nails in the stripes of the deepest scratches and spent from the side to the side. I covered eyelids to focus. Back. In the past. What can I find there? Night. Forest. Shrill wolfs howl. Frost. Crisp snow under the feet. I sit in a hunting house and converse with the king, whom I saved in the morning, I look at his wounded hand. The bite of the wolf turned out to be very painful, the bandages were impregnated with blood. Is it worth thinking about how many people greeted these gray predators? Then I did not think about it, and Vincent had to. At this very time, he pressed his back to the tree trunk and tried to remove a large angry wolf from himself with help of a torch.

Such a struggle resembled more flirting. Trying to defend, Vincent only teased the wolf. The torch went out, and in his hands remained only a violin, which he willingly substituted under the claws of the beast. When the crumpled instrument was already lying in the snow, Vincent of course remembered with which spell he could pacify the beast. Damage has already been not corrected. Such situations, probably, repeated more than once before that night, when Vincent, who first tested jealousy, without regret, gave me his trophy.

I have already decided that this is a funny episode, of course not for the victim, but for the observer, but suddenly I saw something blurry and unclear what looked through the turbid glass. Blurred paints merged into a bizarre combination of black with white spots. The strange picture, voiced by deaf clapping, as if a flock of the pigeons once broke off and rushed into flight. For some reason, I thought that if I tried to look deeper, I would see something scary or at least unpleasant, so I hastily removed my fingers from the smooth surface.

«You do not want to leave this castle?» I turned to Rose. «There are many oddities around, but I managed to make sure you are brave. Tell me, one bloody rag can not scare you? In addition to frightening, there must be at least something that you like. Is it truth?»

«Well I like you,» Rosa hid her hands behind her back, as if she felt that the ring prevents us to speak on equal terms. Nobody, besides her, could be able to put me in a dead end so often. So this time I froze from amazement. Is it possible to be in the rank of the idol in her eyes? She managed to see the wonderful elevated creation there where others saw the cruel and inexorable enemy.

Perhaps I would consider the beauty as a crazy or a pretender if she said it, knowing that I was a dragon, but she did not know, and I was hoping that she would not know as long as possible. I did not care about the opinion of Rothbart, who considered me as reckless and ungrateful rake, as well as the opinions of people who have nicknamed the dragon, the worst of evils, but the contempt of Rose could burn me much more than I myself had burned my victims. How it so came out, I myself did not know. Until now, no one managed to capture me. And she managed.

Recently, I did nothing and enchantingly watched Rose, and it was not shifted with manuscripts from the dead point. Someone, for sure, would be wondering why I having a lot of power, needed new spells, since I was already able to conquer the overwhelming part of the world, but I have always sought more, even if this desire could burn me yourself.

Anyone would have stopped at the achieved. I was in the castle, where the basements were clogged with treasures, where the turbulent force performed all my orders. There were many books on the shelves. Odil would envy me. Rose called them «black books» and stayed away from them. I was sure, she had already managed to hear a seductive whisper from the books, the very whisper, that had repeatedly worried me at the first stage of my learning. I got used to disembodied interlocutors, and then learned to use them for my own purposes. Conversations with them for a beginner were informative. But it was strange, probably, to be alone in the library and suddenly hear someones disembodied voice. It was trying to draw you into a conversation, laughs, joking, teased with suspicious suggestions. Rose immediately should have understood that the sounds did not come from a living being. Even a person with a very good hearing was difficult to believe that the books suddenly gained voices, but Rose believed.

Personally, I without fear touched any of the books. It was not even necessary to go to the library, it was worth only to wish, and the desired book itself turned out to be in front of me on the table and revealed on the required page. So now I looked at one of the volumes without much interest. The pages turned over themselves. A sideline observer could seem that the wind turned them.

Rose gradually began to get used to the fact that the most ordinary problems here were solved in some incomprehensible way. All, ranging from cooking and ending with cleaning and heating of the rooms, happened by itself. Rose did not see if I began to burn the fireplace or I lit the candles, but, nevertheless, it was warm in the castle, and the lighting has never been excessive or too weak.

Color illustration flashed in unusually bright kaleidoscope. Fancy ominous symbols alternated with simple letters, and those and others were the same for me easily understandable. It was worth learning foreign languages, whether an ancient one or a dialect of a neighboring country and it became for me as my own. Therefore, I guessed I felt everywhere at home. It was not difficult to me to speak in foreign languages, on the contrary, the sound of foreign language words was strangely pleasant. At least some variety.

Rose, as far as I understood, hated two things: embroidery and studying other peoples languages, because she was taught against her will. It suffered her pride. I shared her belief that bad teachers could inspire hatred for the most interesting subject. Prince, bless the Lord his negligence, rarely tried to explain something to me, therefore he did not have time to distract an independent student from curiousness. I still havent tried to become a mentor, but I was sure that if I became, I would be able to breathe in the student a love for my dark art.

Another young lady could be imagined as a gift a basket with knitting, a set of needles, threads, or in extreme cases of a necklace. But if I tried to impose Rose as a gift an embroidery, she would at least be offended. She needed quite another.

Therefore, I picked up for her in arsenal the most elegant and light musket, a sword with hilt, snapped with small diamonds. And I also rashly promised to teach her fencing, as if I did not know that the acquired skill she would always have time to apply against me. Of course, she was able to fence, she managed to take a few lessons of fencing by the father. But she, like me, always sought more. Once I was one of the best knights, I neglected the education, but overnight everything has changed. The hand, accustomed to the sword, could not adapt to the feather, but during the captivity I was so young and reckless, that I believed the explanations of the prince about my great destination. Therefore, I hated him, he managed to deprive me of freedom of choice, but could not deprive me of my pride.

«You have a beautiful ring,» I noticed.

«Its pretty hard,» Rose frowned painfully.

«Why dont you take it off?»

«I cant,» a concise answer, and after him a short scribe of thought «Surely, the scar will remain.» Did I manage to catch her thought. Having dropped to the side all the tricks, I independently turned the page and pretended to read.

«I tried to use soap, but, alas,» Rosa made a theatrical sigh. «It is necessary to resort to the extreme method, take something sharp, say, a razor, but there is no single razor.»

«It isnt simply needed here.»

«There is no scissors here too. Dont you never cut your nails.»

«Actually» I almost blurted out «No», but I restrained on time and transferred a look at my even elongated, but seemingly well-kept nails. They grew only in those terrible cases, which Rose was better not to observe, and then they did not grow at all, as well as the hair. For me it was quite usually, but people would certainly have any questions: why he was not such as we, there was something wrong.

«If you need scissors, I will find somewhere,» under the «somewhere» was meant in the first house, where there were no owners or in the inexhaustible reserves of Percy, who has repeatedly managed to circumvent other housing before me.

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