"Sara Douglass - The Axis Trilogy 1 - BattleAxe" - читать интересную книгу автора (Douglass Sara)

have children. Every year of their marriage but the past two she has fallen
pregnant, only to lose the babe in the fourth or fifth month. Now, perhaps, she is
too old."
Both girls fell silent for a few minutes as they contemplated this supreme

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tragedy. The primary purpose of
any noblewoman was to bear her husband sons as quickly as possible. No
matter the dowry, the connections or the beauty that a woman brought to her
marriage bed, her life became meaningless if she could not produce heirs.
Faraday picked up a piece of cloudberry cheese and nibbled delicately at its
edges, a line of worry appearing between her eyes. "It would be a tragedy if
King Priam does not have any sons to follow him."
"Ah," Devera took a healthy sip of wine, "that would leave the way open for
his closest living relative. Now tell me, if you can, do you know who that is?"
Her tone irritated Faraday. "His nephew, Duke Borneheld of Ichtar," she
retorted.
Faraday had arrived at court only the day before and had yet to be
introduced to the King and his family. If she knew names, faces as yet meant
little to her. To her humiliation, Faraday could not place Borneheld's face among
the three or four noblemen at the royal table she still could not identify. Which
one was he?
Devera savoured Faraday's embarrassed confusion for a moment, then
inclined her head towards the man sitting immediately at Priam's right hand.
"Ah," Faraday breathed, for now that Devera had pointed him out she could
see some resemblance. Borneheld had Priam's grey eyes and his hair was
precisely the same shade of auburn, although dressed in a soldier's close crop
rather than Priam's court curls. He was a man in the prime of his life, about
thirty, and as solid as he might be, it was clear that his bulk was all muscle. If
Priam was a courtier, then it was obvious that Borneheld was a warrior, his body
honed by years in the saddle and wielding the sword. He looked a formidable
man. Her mother had been remarkably silent on Priam's immediate family.
"Borneheld is the child of Priam's only sister, Rivkah, who married
Borneheld's father Searlas, the previous Duke," Devera explained.
Faraday paused in her contemplation of Borneheld to glance back at Devera.
For a moment she thought that there was some hesitation, or some darker
shadow, behind Devera's words, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. "So,
if Priam has no children, Borneheld will become king."
Devera shrugged and took another sip of wine. "Probably, unless the other
Earls and Barons decided to fight him for the privilege."
"But that would mean civil war! Are you suggesting that our fathers would
be so disloyal?" Faraday valued loyalty above most other virtues.
"Well, the prize would be worth it, wouldn't it," Devera snapped, the wine
she had drunk making her tongue dangerously loose.
Faraday turned her head away and concentrated on the food before her.
Perhaps it were best if she let Devera chat to the youth on her right for a time.
Some twenty silent minutes later, Faraday became aware of a man moving
quietly through the shadows behind the great columns, then weaving sinuously
between the crowded tables and the darting, anxious serving men and women.
Occasionally he bent to speak to a person or two seated at the tables.