"David Farland - Runelords 3 - Wizardborn" - читать интересную книгу автора (Farland David)

how Anders worked the warlords of Internook with a reticent smile. She
refused to touch even so much as a drop of his best wine. She was a stately
woman, beautiful and cunning, with flashing gray eyes the color of slate.

As he urged the warlords to dispatch their ships to the Courts of Tide,
the lady's lips drew tight. Though she tried to appear neutral, King Anders
knew she stood against him. Too bad for her.

When the warlords were deep in their cups, she excused herself from the
dining hall and fled to the docks, no doubt feeling lucky to escape his
realm with her life.

But a storm was brewing in the northern sea, Anders knew. He went out
into the night as Lady Vars sneaked away. From the door Anders could hear
the wind singing over the whitecaps miles away, could smell ice in the salt
air.

The beast within Anders stirred at the smell. It circled in his breast
like a restless dog. It suggested a small spell that would insure that wind
would fill the sails of the counselor's ship, and urge it onto the rocks.
Ashoven's queen would no doubt find the wreckage on her own shores. She'd
mourn her faithful servant's demise, never knowing what warning she might
have borne. Perhaps the next counselor Ashoven sent would be more malleable.

Anders stood for a long moment in the doorway of his keep, listening to
the receding hooves of Lady Vars's horse as it clattered over the
cobblestone streets of the King's Way. Thick clouds above sealed out the
starlight, and the fires in the great hall cast a ruddy glow over the cold
ground that seemed to strain to reach beyond the courtyard. Somewhere down
in the city below, a dog began howling. Soon, a dozen others joined their
voices with its keen wail.

He whispered the spell that would end the lady's life, and sauntered
back to the Great Hall.

A one-eyed warlord named Olmarg watched him knowingly as he returned.
Olmarg stood at the table, leaning over the roast pig. He cut an ear off,
chewed as he said in his thick accent, "She bolted on us."

"That she did," Anders admitted. Several other lords looked up through
bleary eyes, too far gone into their cups to bother speaking.

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"Knew she would," Olmarg said. "The ladies of Ashoven have no taste for
wine or war. Now that she's gone, we won't have to bridle our tongues."