Lords of Rainbow Read Online Free PDF

the sun alone, is not a shadow of any other thing, but is the brightest and only source of true light.
    The three large orange windows, the first to be glimpsed from a distance, seemed to float in dark nothingness, “pasted on,” the only things real in the world. The contours of the big house blended into the gray monochrome of the land and sky. The occasional trees were oddly, sharply silhouetted against the color , every branch, every fine leaf in sudden sharp contrast, a lacy network of acute graphic black, cut with a knife against unnatural light.
    She stopped at the gates and used the large metal knocker, then waited leisurely. She was a master of controlled semblance of leisure.
    Insolent bitch. I can’t afford this place .
    A man came to open the door, and she rode, horseshoes clinking, into the small yard.
    “ There be the stables,” she was told. “And the common room is in the building to your right. Dinner will be served on the hour.”
    “ How much is the horse feed?” she asked, with a smile.
    The man gave her a hard look. “Three coppers,” he said, more roughly than before. Was she going to be cheap? Then he’d save civility for worthier patrons.
    “ Then give us six coppers’ worth. And no, I’ll care for him myself,” said Ranhé, who now knew all she needed to know about this establishment.
    The man shrugged, somewhat mollified, but not too pleased to be deprived of a service tip.
    Ranhé’s hand slid to her purse, and she took out a copper. “Thanks, friend. Go have a mug on me.”
    Her cheerful and for once completely honest smile was painted with tints of orange coming from the windows nearby. It warmed him, for an instant, despite himself.
    But she’d already turned away and was leading her horse to the stables.
     
    * * *
     
    Postulate Two: Rainbow is a Test of Will.
     
    * * *
     
    T he young priest Preinad Olvan forced himself to read over and over a single line of esoteric text. The characters were so familiar, yet nothing registered in his thoughts.
    He finally looked away from the scripture before him and considered the other volume that lay on the table, covered discreetly by several sheets of his own handwritten piety. That one had come to him in a roundabout fashion from someone at court, and bore the unobtrusive tiny flower mark embossed on the darkest of dark vellum—the symbol of the House of Erotene .
    The House of whores. Of high-class debauchery and the pit of lust. Things abhorrent to the principles of his Order.
    These same things that he was forcing himself to observe dispassionately, in order to temper his will, and thus to serve the Regents in a manner worthy of his rank and aspirations.
    When worldly thoughts plague, it is useless to struggle, to return to sacred matters. One must always attend to the business at hand .
    The priest had soft dandelion hair and veiled eyes. Eyes that held in them the essence of sacrament. He was Preinad Olvan, his Family being one of the Noble Ten, and his color, silver . Here, in Dirvan , he was constantly reminded of this fact by every minute thing, including the details of the furnishings in his bedchamber, so that his belonging to the Family Olvan began to seem revolting.
    Besides, he knew very well, silver was not a color .
    Silver was the weight of coin.
    His hands, nervous, slim-fingered, were clasped together in his lap. And then they moved almost of their own volition to take the other book, the book of ugly filth, and to open it at random upon a page of delicately inked drawings. The images were rendered in soft lines and depicted nude human bodies contorted and entwined in what he knew was the carnal act.
    For a moment the images were no different, no more comprehensible than the words from the thick old tome of Divine Contemplations that he had set aside.
    He gazed at them blind-eyed, and saw pale gray parchment, faded ink.
    And then, unbidden, came one recollection. There was a woman here, at Dirvan , a woman of the