Читать книгу Lilophea, the Bride of the Sea King - Natalie Yacobson - Страница 3

The gift pearl, given to her by a vanished privateer, shone in the dried shell that replaced the casket. It was very beautiful, but there were no visions when she touched it. Lilothea stroked it with her fingers for a long time, but nothing happened.

The peacock, meanwhile, circled around the princess’s apartments and busily looked around every room. He evidently liked the canopy of the tent-like canopy over the bed, for he could make his nest there. The wide bed itself, with its satin cushions, did not impress him, nor did the exquisite furniture. Even his own reflection in the oval mirror on the dressing table didn’t impress him much. He grunted contemptuously at the wash basin, made in the shape of a basin supported by mermaids.

“It’s not very luxurious,” he finally said.

Well, that’s a blatant lie! Her chambers were the most beautiful in the palace. She nearly opened her mouth to say so, but the peacock went on:

“Even concubines have better rooms in a harem.”

So that’s it! He must have been sent by the sultan to convince her that everything in his country was more beautiful and richer than in her father’s humble island kingdom.

That’s what she’d suspected from the start. It was very timely that the peacock appeared in the palace garden. As if the eastern ambassadors had brought it with them and released it on purpose, so that it would find the princess, meet her, and begin to persuade her. Everything is subtly calculated. You can’t believe a man, no matter how convincingly he speaks, but a talking peacock is such a miracle that you start to get a little confused in his presence, you become amazed and trusting. After all, if the bird speaks human language, then there are miracles in the world after all. And this bird also has a voice so well put, as if he was trained to sing and babble on purpose. What a pity the sultan did not think to send this bird to Lilophea’s father. He, as the ruler of a country where no one listens to the opinion of girls, should have understood that nothing depends on the princess’ decision. Even if the peacock will talk to her so that she will dream of going to the harem and even beg her father to let her go there, still the king and his advisers have the final word. It is for them alone to decide whom the princess will marry.

“Did you sing as sweetly for the Sultan as you did for me?” Lilophea inquired as if incidentally. “Did you also advise him not to invite mermaids into his harem, because it is dangerous to communicate with them?”

“What do you mean?” The peacock didn’t give himself away. What an actor! “Would they teach me anything? They wouldn’t even give me any fruit when I sang under the window. Amazingly insensitive people! They have splendid palaces, but they won’t let a talking bird into any of them.”

“Why? Don’t they value rare species?”

“That’s not the point,” the peacock deftly picked a grape from the fruit bowl with its beak, and only continued when it ate it greedily. He appeared to be hungry.

“There is great fear in eastern countries of spies sent from the sea. And I am blue, the color of the sea. And the stone in my forehead shimmers with all the shades of water.”

“Are there spies from the sea?! What does that mean?”

“Well,” said the peacock, uncertain how to avoid the embarrassing subject. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“Well, now go on. Why be embarrassed?”

He ate a few more berries, grunted softly, and then shifted his gaze to the pearl in the dried out shell flaps.

“You don’t have to look out of the window at the sea. There’s so much going on in the sea. I saw all sorts of terrible things while I was hiding in the masts of the ship on which I sailed as a stowaway.”

Lilothea laughed involuntarily. What a pun it turns out!

“By the way, I thought the ship sailed to another kingdom, and ended up here. Bad luck!”

“You will know how not to pay the fare!” She joked. I should have added that he deserved it, and that he who wants to deceive others in the end remains deceived himself, but she was not cruel. It’s the maidens at court who like to let the stilettos go. The peacock will never get enough of them, and will probably pretend to be dumb so as not to have to answer their taunts.

“Do you think that if I brought a coin to the sailors they’d tell me exactly where the ship was going?” The peacock showed unexpected seriousness.

What could you say to that?

“I don’t think so,” Lilophea answered honestly. “They would have taken the coin, and you would probably have been caged and sold at the first port.”

“You see, I might not have been honest.” He spread his wings in triumph and ate almost all the grapes from the vase. What a glutton!

“Travelling alone is dangerous in any case,” Lilophea consoled him. “It is better to sail the ship only with the mistress.”

“Well, I’ve managed to get out of it, now you can always be my mistress.”

What does that mean? He thought of himself as master here and her as servant? Or is he her best friend now? You can’t be mistress to a friend. It’s not like he’s a pet. The peacock had indeed chosen her for himself. He wasn’t bought. He wasn’t brought as a gift. He flew up to her in the garden and made conversation. That’s what everyone who wants to make friends does.

“I’ll consider you my faithful cavalier,” Lilofephea suggested aloud. “By the way, do you have a name? Or should I call you something.”

It’s not nice to call him just a peacock, like all the other birds in the garden that don’t know human speech. A talking creature, however feathered, deserves to be addressed by all the rules.

“I am Seneschal,” he bowed respectfully. Lilophea had no idea that a peacock could bend its neck so low. He could at least be applauded. Had he escaped from the circus? The princess sometimes heard rumors of cruel trainers, from whom it was not easy to buy back rare but offended animals. A peacock with his talents could bend the bars of a cage and escape on his own.

“There is already one seneschal in the palace. That’s what they call the chief of staff,” Lilophea hesitated.

“For him it is a title, but for me it is a name. Though, to tell the truth,” the peacock looked conspiratorial. “I was in charge of the servants in the house of a great sorceress for some time.”

Lilophea grinned incredulously.

“Enchantresses and rogues are practically the same thing.”

“What do you know, girl?”

“I am guided by my experience at court.”

“This isn’t the court to learn anything.”

“But you got here somehow. Which means there’s already something unique here – a chatty peacock!”

“I’m the most worthy creature here,” he arrogantly cocked his beak. Lilophea gazed for a moment at the stone glinting in his forehead. She wondered if it hurt him, made him feel uncomfortable with the hard jewelry growing in his forehead. Even her own tiara was starting to press on her head if she wore it too long. All jewelry should be removed before going to bed so it wouldn’t leave a mark on the delicate skin. That’s what the ladies-in-waiting used to say.

Lilophea remembered the crown. She longed unbearably to try it on again, but the blue peacock looked behind the chest like a spy. It seemed that if she took anything from there, and he pecked her in the finger. Of the chest there was a wet puddle on the malachite table. There was no place for it to come from, for the jug and the basin for her morning bath were in another room. There was water inside the jewels themselves. But how could it have flowed through the hard casket. There was an icy chill coming from the water. It felt like a draught in her chambers, though the day was very hot. All the ladies at court were waving their fans vigorously. Suddenly there was an underwater chill in the princess’ apartments. Lilophea noticed that in a puddle on the table bloomed most real water lily. What a miracle!

She must send the peacock away on some errand while she looks around and tries on all the pearl adornments.

“So you are Seneschal,” she smiled at him. “I’ll call you that if you like. Do not present yourself as so to the other courtiers, or you will be confused with the head of the household. He might think you are making fun of him and tease you.”

“Let him try it,” the peacock hummed haughtily. Apparently, he’d never been chased by a cook’s knife before. But Lilophea had once seen a swan roasted for a feast, and the sight made her sick. How can you make a feast of a beautiful bird? People can be so cruel sometimes.

“You love waterfowl! You have a good heart! You have a water heart! Come to me! Come into the sea!”

Who said that? It was certainly not the peacock. His insolent bird voice is not capable of whispering with such inspiration.

“I’ll tell you what,” Lilophea opened her writing bag. “Take a couple of letters for me.”

“I’m not a messenger,” the peacock grunted.

She scribbled a few lines on two sheets of paper, sealed them with the Royal Seal, and handed them to Seneschal. “Here, one is for the cook, let him not cook birds yet, better let him treat the ambassadors with fish and crabs from the local coast.”

Here the peacock understood her and nodded sternly.

“It is no birds to eat,” he agreed and clutched the envelope in his beak.

“Can you find your own way?”

He nodded again.

“And the second letter is for my father’s honored guest. He is coming today. He is the famous navigator and privateer. You know what that is.”

Peacock dropped the envelope on the table for a moment.

“Capering is legalized piracy, with the profits from the plunder paid to the crown,” he resented. “Capers are sneaky, sneaky fellows, to think of such a thing. Stay away from them.”

“This fellow’s not bad. He is quite a charming little rascal. His name is Morrin.

He’s quite handsome. He has brown hair and brown eyes. He’s tall. He prefers to wear green caftans. In his left ear is an earring with an emerald in the shape of a drop.”

“And you want me to give him a love letter.”

“It is not a love letter. I want him to do me a favor and find out something for me.”

“Well, all right,” the peacock took both envelopes in its beak and finally flew away.

Lilophea waited until his trail had gone cold outside the window, and then she rushed to measure the jewelry. Bracelets, necklaces, rings, beads – she strung a whole row of them on herself. How beautifully the pearls had transformed her outfit. She became like a sea queen. The twisted-frame mirror on the wall even flattered her. It showed not an ordinary princess, but as if a goddess from the depths of the ocean.

In five minutes Lilophea managed to try on everything but the intricate pearl pendants, with their many pendants and drops that must fall on her forehead. There was only room on her head for one piece of jewelry – a crown. For some reason she liked it best. As soon as the crown of the sea pressed on her forehead again, a succession of visions akin to daydreams came back into her mind. All these dreams were of an underwater kingdom, of water flowing between lilies and of incredible underwater creatures.

She even closed her eyelids with pleasure. It seemed to her that the mirror had become a waterfall. All she had to do was stretch out her hand and touch the stream. There was something sparkling in the water. They were pebbles of some kind, colorful as a rainbow. The waterfall runs down the rocks and flows into the river. Unusual creatures with green curls and pearls instead of noses float in the river. A tender music spreads over the water flow. The melody is mesmerizing, depriving you of your ability to think straight. Lilothea walks forward and sees the one who is playing. The musician wears a heavy crown with pendants of coral. It is made in the shape of gills. So unusual! He also has gilded wings in his back. They grow straight out of the bluish skin. Or is it the clothes he’s wearing that are azure? She wants to touch him with her hand, but she does not dare. He turns around himself. The musical instrument that made such marvelous sounds turns out to be nothing more than a shell into which he blew like a horn. Out of the shell pours sparkling water. What she thought were wings and crowns are actually gills. They grow right out of his skin. He is not human!

Lilophea awoke when the blue hand closed around her wrist. The peacock had interfered again.

“Don’t sleep, silly,” yelled the Seneschal, who had already delivered the letters and returned. “You might not wake up at all.”

“And I don’t want to!” Why had he plucked her from such a beautiful vision? Yes, it was a little scary, but it felt good, too. How to go back to that dream? The mirror on the wall still reflected a waterfall of iridescent pebbles, but the musician was no longer on the shore. Soon that vision, too, faded like an illusion.

The peacock was already busily packing the jewels back into the casket.

“We must throw it all back into the sea!”

“Don’t dare!” Lilophea shouted at him.

“You will fall asleep in your wonderful crown and what shall I do? I will be thrown out of the palace or given as a snack to the ambassadors.”

“You’ll go back to the great sorceress you served.”

“You know how far it is! And it’s dangerous without an escort. The first privateers like your friend will catch me and sell me into slavery.”

He complained as a merchant who was anxious to have his goods shipped by sea, or as an old courtier who feared he would set sail for a long journey to see his family far off in the world. And this is all coming from a bird! Seneschal must be repeating, like a parrot, what he has heard from his former masters. He wouldn’t have thought of it himself with his tiny peacock head.

“Your old mistress must not have loved you too much to try to bring you back. With her great charms, all she could do was wave her magic wand if she missed you.”

“Oh, what do you know?” The peacock brushed her off.

Lilophea suspected that he had been taken from his old duty station in a cage and with his beak tied up, because he was boring his mistress with his chatter.

I wonder how quickly he would bore her herself to the point where she would start begging her father to sell him? Lilophea was usually patient. She wasn’t easily driven out of her mind. But even she was beginning to think about giving the chatterbox to Morrin.

“By the way, your handsome caper is already hanging around the gallery waiting for you,” the peacock for some reason decided to report this only now, and not immediately when he flew in. “Indeed, a handsome fellow, and what is phenomenal these days, polite!”

“Which gallery is it?” Lilophea was worried. “There are many in the palace.”

“That one is overlooking the sea. There’s only one. All the others face the gardens or the inner courtyards.”

“Thank you for telling me now. You could have waited another hour for him to leave.”

“He won’t,” said Seneschal defiantly. “The boy is very much in love with you. I’m even beginning to respect you, seeing how cleverly you keep young men on the hook.”

“Stop talking!”

“He not only thanked me, he even bowed to me to thank me for delivering your letter to him,” said Seneschal.

Let him talk, Lilophea decided. As long as he keeps his beak shut in front of Morrin. After all, it is from him she can ask about all the secrets of the sea and whether or not there really are unusual creatures living underwater. Morrin spends so much time swimming that he must surely know about them.