"Raymond E. Feist - Kingdom of the Isles 1 - Prince of the Blood" - читать интересную книгу автора (Feist Raymond E)

Heir Presumptive."

Borric turned to study James's face. The point of
James's message was still lost on the young Prince.
"So?"

"So, ninny, as it is unlikely that our good King, your

22 Prince of the Blood

uncle, will father any sons at this stage in his life—given
the Queen's age—should Arutha survive him, he will
then be King." Reaching out to aid Borric to his feet, he
added, "And as the Goddess of Luck would have it"—he
slapped Borric playfully on the side of the face—"you
almost certainly will outlive your father, which means
that someday after, you shall be King."

"May heaven forfend," interjected Locklear.

Borric looked around the room. The two Sergeants
had stepped back, as the pretense of a boxing lesson was
forgotten. "King?"

"Yes, you stone-crowned dolt," said Locklear. "If
we're still alive, we'll have to kneel before you and
pretend you know what you're doing."

"So," continued James, "your father has decided that
it's time for you to stop behaving like the spoiled child
of a rich cattle merchant and start acting like a future
King of Isles."

Eriand came to stand beside his brother, leaning
upon him slightly. "So why not just simply"—he winced
as he moved the wrong way, straining his reinjured side
—"tell us what's going on?"

James said, "I convinced your father the lesson
needed to be ... emphasized." He studied the two
Princes. "You've been educated, taught by the best in-
structors your father could employ. You speak . . .
what . . . six, seven languages? You can do sums and
calculate, like engineers at a siege. You can discourse on
the teachings of the ancients. You have music and paint-
ing skills, and you know the etiquette of the court. You
are skilled swordsmen and"—he glanced at the two
boxers—"somewhat gifted students of fisticuffs." He
stepped away. "But in nineteen years since your birth
you've never given a single sign that you're anything