Mage Heart. Jane Routley
Читать онлайн книгу.
been more flagrant in this respect. Their mistresses usually had the bluest of bloods, however. Not so Kitten Avignon. She was an actress and a courtesan, a woman whose background was unknown, who was surely nothing more than a common prostitute. At home people had talked of such great courtesans with a kind of greedy pleasure-their faces mean with contempt, their mouths pursed, sucking on the delicious sweetmeat of Gallian decadence.
I had once seen Kitten Avignon. It was on the very day that Michael and I, covered with grit from our long walk east from Moria, had entered Gallia.
She was the most beautiful woman I had ever set eyes on. All around us enthusiastic people waved and cheered as she rode by on a huge white horse surrounded by darkly clad servants. She sat with straight-backed dignity, smiling and gently waving her fine-boned hand. She was dressed in deep red, and everything about her, from her pure white skin to the red rose in the hat that covered her fair hair, seemed to glow vividly. Even at that distance she looked soft and touchable.
We had walked a long way that day. My foster father swore and grumbled about parades. But I was fascinated by the beautiful lady, so fascinated that I asked the friendly-looking woman beside me if that was the Duchess.
She laughed. "Oh no, that's Kitten Avignon, the Duke's mistress. Our Lady of Roses they call her."
Michael smiled his cynical smile and said softly in my ear, "Welcome to Gallia, my dear! Where whores ride through the streets like queens. Look at all these poor people under her spell."
In my memory the woman's glowing beauty became spoiled and sinister.
It was as if the Dean, that fragile and avuncular old man, had made an obscene proposition. Maybe he had. Suddenly I felt terribly afraid. Maybe they were just trying to get rid of me. Was this the fate of useless women? Prostitution?
"No." I whispered. "No."
"Dion?"
"How can I? How can you ask me ... ? She's a whore ..."
"Dion! Hush! I know that as a Morian you might have some problem with this ..."
"Sir, you're asking me to associate with a woman who's ... Michael would have been horrified."
"Dion, please. Listen..."
"My lord," said Master John. "The child has said no. And who can blame her? Surely it is unfair to press her to take such an obviously distasteful position."
"Keep out of this, John." The Dean's vague, gentle face had suddenly become astonishingly hard and forceful. "Dion, you must see reason."
"My lord, she does see reason. It's you. Can't you see yourself...? Pushing an innocent child into the arms of such a creature."
"John!"
"How can you do this?" Master John was beginning to yell. "How can you even take it seriously? Magical danger! It's ridiculous! What mage on earth would bother with a common drab?"
"Master John!"
"And what college on earth would even dignify such a request from such a woman?"
"May I remind you that this is the Duke's request?" The Dean's voice was soft. But it cut.
"Oh yes! A man completely under her control. A man ruled by the honey sisterhood. Government by the worst in the land! Does this accord with the dignity due to this college?"
"And how does it accord with our dignity to have members of staff brawling in front of the students?"
Master John scowled.
The Dean stared at him. Gone was the kindly old man. Before me sat an austere man, harsh and dignified and bristling with power.
"You're being a fool, John. Disapproval of the Duke's intimates can only be interpreted as disapproval of the Duke. In different company you'd be thrown in the Fortress for what you've said."
He turned to me, and his face softened again.
"Now, Dion. Believe me, I understand how distasteful this is to you. I understand that a respectable young girl must be reluctant to associate with a courtesan. But you must remember this is not a request from this sad and abandoned creature, but from the Duke. From our ruler, and a man to whom, I might add, you and your foster father owe a great deal. He did not have to give you asylum in Gallia. You must realize it would be ungracious, not to mention unwise, to refuse this quite simple task out of disapproval Madame Avignon is the Duke's favorite, and because of this, it must be an honor for anyone to serve her. That is the way it works in Gallia. I would be surprised if it is different anywhere in the world."
Suddenly I was very frightened. I could not do this thing. How could I? I struggled to put my reasons into words.
"But, sir. Will it not ruin my reputation? How will I ever find a respectable position afterward? Who will have me then?"
"Yes, my lord," said Master John. "Have you thought of that? Have you considered how people might treat her once her association with this woman is known?" He struck the desk. "Have you considered that you might leave her with no prospects? Have you really considered her future, my lord Dean?"
The Dean closed his eyes with a pained expression. Master John fell silent.
"Finished, John?" His voice was heavy with sarcasm. "Kindly allow me to point out to you both that Dion has no future. Honestly, John, have you not said this yourself? Who in the world would grant a position to a female mage? Dion is not trained for healing, and I doubt if anyone would consider a dowerless woman with magical powers a suitable wife. What is this future you are talking of? There is no one to provide for her unless we at this college do it. And this is what I am attempting to do. Here is a situation which makes her very disability an asset. Think how much more unsuitable it would be to bring a young man into contact with one of the honey sisterhood. The Duke must naturally prefer a woman for this kind of thing."
Everything he said was true. I already knew it to be so. But it was bitter to hear it said all the same. I bowed my head lest they see the tears in my eyes, but I could not miss the pitying look Master John gave me and the discouraged way his shoulders sank.
"I'm sorry, Dion," said the Dean. "It is a cruel thing to have said even if it is the truth. Believe me, I do understand that a besmirched reputation is a heavy burden for any woman to bear. But I have taken steps to protect you from your association with Madame Avignon. Protection is hardly a very intimate spell, so you are unlikely to meet with her more than twice at the most. The Duke tells me that only a few trusted advisers know of the situation. Very likely nobody much will ever know of your position. You will be staying safely at the college and will have us to guide and protect you. Above all, you must remember that this is an opportunity to win the favor of the Duke. That can only lead to good things."
I was not reassured, and yet I could think of no other objections in the face of the Dean's calm certainty. I just stared at him dismayed, frightened, thinking if I had not clouded my brain with hazia, the objections to undertaking this task would be clear to me and everyone else.
The Dean sighed. "Dion, if the worst comes to the worst ... I have planned for that, too. I have negotiated a life pension and a small farm for you on top of a very considerable money fee. You can always retire to the country till people forget. Don't you see that whatever the risks in this position, you can only gain from it? This may be the only position that will ever be offered to you. For no other reason than that, I would urge you to take it."
I could only think of the contemptuous faces of the villagers at home when they spoke of women like Madame Avignon and the sad stories our housekeeper had told of ruined girls and their fates. I was afraid.
"Dion, you will have myself and Master John beside you all the way, and we will do our very best to protect you. What will you have if you say no? You must consider your future."
I had considered it. Too often. It was one reason I'd started taking hazia.
I looked at Master John, but he'd gone back to staring out the window. I looked at the Dean. I could see him willing me to say yes.
I had