The Heavenly Lord’s Ambassador. A Kingdom Like No Other. Book 1. Андрей КочетковЧитать онлайн книгу.
traveled to Torgendam to buy lumber and he never came home. Some say a bear got him, but others say it was a forest demon. And it was the year before that some merchants from Arkenchif – that’s in Capotia – told us that outlaws are kidnapping people on the west end of the Great Imperial Road and selling them to the cannibals in Unguru! The Heavenly Deity only knows what those Virilans will come up with. I’ve heard merchants say that they aren’t humans at all, but walking dead. If one of them puts a hand on you, it’s as cold as the grave! How’s a woman supposed to let her son go there? Be careful, neighbor! He’s your only child. You raised him all on your own. May the Heavenly Deity keep him from danger!”
After several such visits with friends, Sevelia cursed Ronko for coaxing her son away from a normal, steady career. She cursed Ontius Sanery, who she was sure would treat her poor boy like a dog, and even (quietly, in her heart of hearts) cursed the Emperor for being too weak to refuse his ageing coterie of advisors. Uni had to grit his teeth and listen to her for several hours, and all of his arguments in favor of this grand opportunity to demonstrate his abilities were countered by the contention, always final, that there was no way he could understand a mother’s heart.
In the end, his patience wearing thin, he escaped to his beloved archive (after all, the Emperor had personally instructed him to prepare himself for the upcoming journey). Once he stood again in front of the achingly familiar gates – shaped like a scroll being unrolled – he had to force himself to go in. He too clearly remembered being escorted out of the archive the day before. The guards must have been aware of his new status, for they merely nodded at him as he went in. Uni reflected that Dorgoe, while outwardly unattractive, was eminently capable of carrying out the tasks entrusted to him, not forgetting even the smallest details.
Inside, the archive greeted him with its usual chilly air and odor of leather scroll cases. The archive workers who passed him in the halls gave him nervously polite smiles, and Uni concluded that the weather had changed in his favor. As always, Enel Barko was the only one truly happy to see him: the old man met him with open arms.
The brand-new diplomat bowed low before his teacher and promised that he would not let him down on this important mission. Barko had news. Enel Forsey had already sent a messenger to the archive to request that Uni be tested on his knowledge of the Virilan language and the results immediately sent to the palace. Once the messenger was gone, Enel Margio had given Barko a clear set of instructions: either the elderly master could report that Uni was incompetent, or he could leave the archive that same day, never to return.
“They wouldn’t dare!” Uni exploded. “I’ll tell Ronko everything. What a dirty trick! What a gross violation of the will of our Heavenly Lord!”
Barko shook his head. “You call it a dirty trick and a violation, but they don’t care about what you think. Everyone knows who is really in charge at the palace. I remember the old Emperor. He was a harsh man, to be sure, but people minded themselves around him. There was none of this back stabbing. The young Emperor is cut from a different cloth. He’s not a bad man, and he’s very intelligent. When he was a boy, everyone who knew him said he was kind and good. But now that he’s grown, what good is he to us? He’s soft and lazy, and he is too dependent on his advisors’ opinions and changing moods. Do you think he cares about a lowly servant like me? He’ll forget about me by tomorrow, even if that Ronko of yours manages to put in a word for me. He’s a wonderful Emperor compared to the monsters our Empire has known in the past. The reign of Kergenius will be remembered as a golden age, of that I am sure…” He gave a wry smile. “When have we ever had so much freedom? Each man does as he wishes, as if we had no Emperor at all and no Heavenly Deity over our heads.” The old man rubbed his forehead. “What is the use? The weak are glad to have freedom, but the strong are the ones who profit from it. Look at me. This archive is the only home I’ve ever known. If they let me go, I’ll die that very same day. No, the weak and poor have no need for freedom. It is a burden to them. Once the strong have everything their way, this new freedom will make the old days look like paradise.” His voice trailed off.
“Enel Barko,” I…I…won’t let them touch a hair on your head! I will march myself into the palace right now and tell them that if anything happens to you, I won’t go on the mission to Virilan. That’s what I’ll do! They can manage without me however they like.” Uni’s eyes shone wet. “It’s beyond imagination that they could have so little respect for your age and your hard work!” He grew even angrier when he recalled Forsey’s arrogant face and how he had ignored him at the council meeting.
Barko put a hand on his young friend’s shoulder. “Thank you, my boy! I’ve been in this bug-infested place so long that I can’t imagine life without it. I’ll die here in these walls, probably right at this desk.” Uni sniffled at this. “And don’t worry about me. They can’t hurt me, even if they try.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m too old to be afraid of anyone. What can they do, if you think about it? Margio will yell and carry on, but the whole pack of them are slippery cowards.” His old eyes sparkled as he looked at Uni. “I told Margio where he could put his threats. I told him there was no way I would follow his orders, even if he took a knife to me right here.”
Uni was impressed. “What did he do?”
“What could he do? He howled for a while, then he cursed me and went off to wherever it is he goes. Don’t worry, Uni! Everything will be fine. Let’s celebrate your new appointment.” At this, the old master opened a box behind his desk and drew out a dusty bottle of what they called “archival wine.”
Archive masters since time immemorial had hidden bottles in the depths of the stacks and storage rooms, planting them as gifts to their counterparts in the future. When someone stumbled across a bottle, the masters had a holiday (merriment was a rare thing in their lives, so they made the most of it). The older the bottle, the bigger the holiday. Long-time archivists claimed that archival dust and mouse droppings made the wine so strong that one cup could knock a man over. They also said that the one who drank the first cup imbibed all the wisdom of the scrolls with which the bottle had been found.
When Barko brought out the bottle, Uni at first tried to excuse himself, explaining that no official orders had been made yet and first, he had to survive an important meeting with the head of the mission. Barko cut him off and, with a twinkle in his eye, explained that this particular bottle had been found between two Virilan manuscripts, and that Uni simply had to drink it to complete his knowledge of that most complex language. As a final argument, the old man hinted that he might withhold his recommendation letter.
Uni was overcome with a desire to embrace his teacher and mentor, but he refrained until most of the bottle of wine was already in his stomach. Barko, as always, drank very little. As they sat and talked, the old man told him that he had dreamed of seeing Virilan since he was a young boy. He was satisfied that he had managed to convey that desire to his student.
When it was time for Uni to go, Barko took hold of his hand. “Chances are we will never see each other again,” he said, his voice cracking.
“Teacher, don’t say that! You will live longer than any of us! And anyway, wherever I go, and wherever I am, you will always be with me, and your knowledge will be in me.” The master walked his most dedicated student to the door, and they parted.
“I wonder if I really will ever see this place again?” Uni suddenly wondered. Only the Heavenly Deity knew.
A wave of sadness rose in his throat, and he finally realized what a great time he had had inside of those cold walls and how much of himself he was leaving behind.
“Uni! You still need to put on your good robe and fix your hair! Get up, boy! You don’t want to shame your mother, do you?”
“Coming, coming…” Uni mumbled. He realized that the wine had slowly but surely done its work. Oh life-giving Sun! I drink perhaps two times a year, and of course one of those times had to be today. If only I could get through it without a scandal…
Scandal was avoided. Uni carried himself with cautious dignity in front