"Jennifer Fallon - Second Sons 02 - Eye of the Labyrinth" - читать интересную книгу автора (Fallon Jennifer)

wished she could cry. She wished her numbness would go away and leave her free to feel the pain.
Wallin was a good man. He deserved to be mourned properly.

They watched the bier floating on the harbor, the tall column of thick smoke pouring from the oil-soaked
wood. Morna found herself fascinated by the smoke. It was an allegory for her whole life. An angry fire
that had burned so brightly for such a short time until eventually, like her dreams and ambitions, her whole
existence ended up as nothing more than a smoky haze that dissipated into the red sunlight, gone and
forgotten.

“My lady?”
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Morna looked down at the beach. Rees was wading back to shore, his expression grim, his shoulders
stiffly set.

“My lady?” Tovin Rill repeated from behind her.

So soon, she thought. They’re not even going to wait until the fire is out? Rees walked up the beach and
stopped in front of her. He was so like Wallin to look at—solid, stocky and dependable— but he did not
have Wallin’s heart. Or his compassion.

“I’m sorry, Mother.”

So Rees had known about this in advance. She heard Tovin Rill snap his fingers behind her, heard the
guards moving to surround her. “Please go quietly, Mother,” Rees begged. “Don’t make a scene.”
Morna lifted the veil and looked around. There were a dozen or more Senetian soldiers waiting to take
her into custody. Tovin Rill was looking at her expectantly.

What does he think I’m going to do? Whip out a sword from underneath my skirts and fight my way to
freedom?

Young Lanon Rill refused to meet her gaze, obviously uncomfortable with his father’s role in this. Faralan
was crying silently. The townsfolk looked on in wordless dread, too afraid to object. Or maybe they
don’t want to object. Maybe they feel I am finally getting what I deserve.

“Where are you taking me?”

“To the garrison in town, my lady,” Tovin informed her. “You’ll be held there until Landfall.”

Landfall. They’re going to burn me alive.

Faralan bit back a sob. “I’ll have your things brought down to you, my lady,” she promised, as if having
her own hairbrush handy would somehow ease the terror of knowing she was to be executed.

“Thank you, Faralan,” she replied graciously, and then turned to the captain of Tovin’s guard. “Captain
Ateway? Could I lean on your arm? I seem to be a little unsteady this evening.”