"P. N. Elrod & Nigel Bennett - His Father's Son" - читать интересную книгу автора (Elrod P N)

The answer came from within as Sabra’s sweet voice stole gently into his mind. The cruelty hides the
emptiness of his spirit, she murmured, her voice so clear she might have been next to him. It gladdened
him to know that in this dreary place he was not as alone as he’d thought. Alas for his pain, she added
plaintively.
It was easy enough for her to be kind, she’d not had decades of Ambert’s torment, but for her sake
Richard decided to modify his initial harsh reply. “You’re drunk, Dear Brother, else you could think of
better ways to provoke me.”
Ambert puffed out a short guttural curse. It had the strange sound of agreement in it. “Oh, but I have,
sweet Dickon. Your new whore is a riddle to all who have heard of her. No one knows aught of her, and
her people keep to themselves like lepers, speaking to none if they can help it. I would know who she is and
who she serves. Before the next hour is gone I’ll have a dozen armsmen through her tents to drag her here
to give full answer to that riddle.”
It was no idle threat, not when he used that tone. By right of his place in the household he had the
authority to carry it out and the wit to justify all to the duke later.
“How does that please thee?” he demanded.
A few days ago Richard would have swallowed his anger and suffered whatever humiliation Ambert
cared to heap upon him to prevent such a disaster.
No more. No more ever again. He’s like a boy throwing stones at a chained wolf to show how
brave he is. He knows not that this wolf is free.
Richard made his shoulders slump with defeat, let his gaze fall to the floor, and slowly closed the distance
between them, his bearing such as to not give any hint of a threat. When he was but a pace away, only then
did he raise his head and look his brother full in the eye.
“What would please me, dear Ambert, is for you to forget all about it,” he whispered. “Do you mark
me?”
Ambert winced as though in pain and drew a hand over his brow. “How—how d-dare you speak thus to
me?”
Richard puzzled for a moment over this surprising resistance. Certainly Ambert had more reason to defy
his will than would a compliant young girl, but he was still made of the same ordinary flesh. Perhaps
drunkenness had befuddled his mind, making him more difficult to influence. Richard bent all his
concentration upon his brother, eyes focused so hard and steady he thought he could almost see past the
bloated face to the pitted vestige of his soul.
Ambert gave a shudder, breaking into a sweat, and this time he did not look away.
“You will forget all about disturbing the lady by the lake,” said Richard, his voice calm, but brooking no
argument. “You have no interest for her or her people, none at all.”
Dear Brother’s lower lip sagged, trembling, but no words came forth.
“Forget her. Completely.”
He flinched as though each utterance held the sting of a wasp and still did not look away.
Richard eased back slightly, fascinated a moment by this evidence of his own power, then finally
released his invisible hold.
Ambert staggered, clutching at the table to steady himself.
“Have a care, brother, the drink is besting you tonight,” said Richard. He was once more standing
several yards away. He watched and waited for Ambert’s reaction . . . which was only to shake his head
as though to clear it. Not one sign of what should have been red-eyed fury. Oh, but this was most
wonderfully -interesting.
“I’ve not had enough is the problem. What’s become of my cup?” He stared peevishly about, but missed
his crushed property amid the litter on the table.
“Does my lord the duke send you to fetch me?” Richard -inquired, hiding his amusement and
satisfaction. This ability to sway others to his will was very useful indeed.
“Please you to wait,” grumbled Ambert. “You’ll see him soon enough and like it not when you do. You’ll
like it not at all.” He then burst into a harsh laugh, pushed from the table, and tottered back the way he’d