"Raymond E. Feist & Janny Wurts - empire 3 mistress of the empire" - читать интересную книгу автора (Feist Raymond E)

The honor bearers drew up before the front doorway
used for ceremonial occasions. Shadowed by the immense
stone portal stood the household's most loyal servants.
One by one they bowed to the bier, to pay young Ayaki
their respects. They were led by Keyoke, First Adviser for
War, his hair silvered with age, the crutch that enabled him
to walk after battle wounds cost him his leg unobtrusively
tucked into a fold of his formal mantle; as he intoned the
ritual words of sympathy, he looked upon Mara with the
grief a father might show, locked behind dark eyes and
an expression like old wood. After him waited Lujan, the
Acoma Force Commander, his usual rakish smile vanished
and his steady gaze spoiled by his blinking to hold back
tears. A warrior to the core, he scarcely managed to
maintain his bearing. He had taught the boy on the bier
to spar with a sword, and only that morning had praised
his developing skills.

He touched Mara's hand as she passed. 'Ayaki may have
been only twelve years of age, my Lady, but he already was
an exemplary warrior.'

The mistress barely nodded in response. Guided by
Hokanu, she passed on to the hadonra next in line.
Small, and mouse-shy, Jican looked desolate. He had

20 Mistress of the Empire

recently succeeded in intriguing the volatile Ayaki with
the arts of estate finance. Their games using sEdl counters
to represent the marketable Acoma trade goods would
no longer clutter the breakfast nook off the pantry. Jican
stumbled over the formal words of sympathy to his mistress.
His earnest brown eyes seemed to reflect her pain as she
and her husband passed on, to her young adviser Saric,
and his assistant, Incomo. Both were later additions to the
household; but Ayaki had won their affection no less than
the others'. The condolences they offered to Mara were
genuine, but she could not reply. Only Hokanu's hand on
her elbow kept her from stumbling as she mounted the stair
and entered the corridor.

The sudden step into shadow caused Hokanu to shiver.
For the first time, the beautifully tiled stonework did not
offer him the feeling of shelter. The beautiful painted screens
he and Mara had commissioned did not warm him to
admiration. Instead he felt gnawing doubt; had young
Ayaki's death been an expression of the gods' displeasure,
that Mara should claim as spoils the properties of her