"Rawn, Melanie - Dragon Star 2 - Dragon Token" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dragon Stories)

"Of course," Elsen said impatiently. "Lady Feylin sent me copies of some of the old legends about dragons that she refutes in her book. As you say, Father, there's nothing in the Desert but sand and heat and dragons. The first is worthless except for making glass. That they want to broil themselves to death in the Desert sun is ludicrous. So it has to be the dragons."

"Can you tell me why?"

"I'm sure you've heard most of the stories. Their blood has magical or poisonous properties, their gaze turns men to stone, they speak without words to their victims— preferably virgin princesses. Anyone who eats a dragon's heart will understand the language of birds." He smiled faintly. "Vellanur is of two minds about that. He's not sure if the mess would be worth the result."

"I quite agree," Velden said, chuckling. "I doubt there's any sauce that would make it palatable."

"He is currently contemplating onion gravy," Elsen reported with his slight smile, then sobered. "But no one is fool enough to believe such things in this day and age. Even if the Vellant'im did, why go seek out dragons that

could paralyze with a glance? There's only one thing that could tempt them. And that's dragon gold."

"A myth, like all the rest of it."

"Of course—but let's pretend that it's true. Wouldn't the Desert come under attack almost immediately? Prince Miyon springs to mind."

"And me?" Velden asked acidly. "Don't mistake me, my son. Grib is mine, and all its wealth—and that's . enough for me. I'm not disposed to risking it all on a foolish legend."

"But the Vellant'im might be doing just that."

"Perhaps. But there's another factor," Velden mused, running a thumb over the gold leaf lavished on a carved wheatfield. "Sunrunners. Why was Goddess Keep attacked? It's not on any river. It has no tactical advantage."

Elsen nodded. "These savages scream the old word for sorcerers—it translates as 'Stone-burners.' They use it as their battle cry, just as Lord Chaynal's troops bellow out his name and that of Radzyn, and so on. But if they are sorcerers, as their attempt on Goddess Keep and their use of the term would indicate, why has no sorcery been used?"

"Perhaps they're like Sunrunners, forbidden to use it to kill." Velden shrugged. "And the most powerful Sunrunner now living—always excepting Andry, who holds the title and honors—is in the Desert."

Elsen opened his mouth, shut it again, and finally managed, "Sioned? The enemy want Sioned? But why?"

"I'm not saying they do or don't. I'm saying that they obviously know enough about the princedoms to know where and when and how to attack. It would be insanity to think they didn't know about our politics and who rules what—and who is what."

"Dragon gold and Sunrunners. . . ." Suddenly Elsen's face clouded over. "This can't be news to them in the Desert. Rohan would have thought of all this."

"Yes, he would. And look where it got him. Do you understand now why I won't risk involvement in this war?" Frustrated as anger visibly grasped his son's fine-

drawn features again, Velden exclaimed, "Goddess in glory, we don't even know who we're fighting! We don't know where they came from, let alone what they want!" Rising stiffly from his chair, Elsen leaned on his cane and asked, "And if you knew, Father, would you give it to them? Would you demand that Pol hand over dragons, or dragon gold—or Sioned?"

*

In Meadowlord, Ostvel had decided that his and Tilal's combined forces would move slowly toward Swalekeep, giving Chiana every opportunity to invite them to establish a camp outside the walls. This was preferable to marching in like the attacking army they would have to become if she failed to respond as self-preservation must dictate. There was no Vellanti army near enough to defend Swalekeep, but he had every faith that soon there would be. And he didn't want to waste his people's blood on Swalekeep.

"Do you think Chiana would actually put up a fight?" Lord Kerluthan of River Ussh asked, not bothering to hide his eagerness for battle.

Ostvel shrugged. "I'd prefer to avoid the whole question. If we can get into Swalekeep peaceably, then we can draw Chiana's claws. Rohan can deal with her betrayal later." Seeing the honest regret in Kerluthan's eyes, Ostvel snorted. "And no, you may not spare him the trouble by doing whatever it is you're thinking about doing."

"I wasn't thinking anything." But a sudden predatory grin lit the athri's face. "It'd be lovely, though, wouldn't it?"

"Behave yourself," the older man chided. Still, he was unable to repress a rather wistful sigh. Lovely indeed to be rid of Chiana by one "accident" or another. . . . Then he shook himself. War was making him think like a barbarian. Rohan would be ashamed of him.

Besides, he would have need of his baser impulses for an enemy far more formidable than Chiana. If she did