"Barbara Hambly - Sun Wolf 2 - Witches of Wenshar" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hambly Barbara)

Wenshar ruled this land. He's the foundation of my line, and, by the
Three, I want him to be a King that knows how to wield a sword and
hold his own!" He drank off his wine and set the cup crashing down on
the bronze of the small tabletop, his wide, light-green eyes blazing with
the intentness of a man who has always been able to strive for and win
what he sought.
"I'm the fifth King of Wenshar since we threw out the governors
and freed ourselves from slavery. I fought alongside my uncle Tyrill
against the desert bandits and against old Shilmarne's troops and
whatever you care to name. When Tyrill died, he named me his heir,
the way Casfell Ghru named him, and old Kelden the Black before him.
None of those men had an heir, barring Kelden's, who was killed in
battle-they all chose the best man they knew as their successor. By the
Three, it's kept the land strong!
"But it's different now. My uncle fell when I was young, and I
married ... " He hesitated infinitesimally, and when he spoke again, it
was with a quieter note. "I married a lady of one of the Ancient
Houses, the last Princess of the old House of Wenshar."
Sun Wolf cocked his head, curious. "Wenshar? From the old city
out in the desert?"
"No." Osgard cut him off shortly, and his green eyes flickered for a
moment with anger. Then, as if realizing he'd spoken more than he
meant, he explained awkwardly, "That is-none of her people had been
near there in generations. That city's empty, dead-the armies of the
Middle Kingdoms destroyed it when they conquered these parts. But
yes, her people used to rule all this country and much of the desert
besides. Their house had no power anymore, but they were one of the
Ancient Houses, nonetheles. And she was the kindest woman in all
these lands and bore me the sweetest daughter a man could want,
who's to marry one of the shirdar lords to seal their alliance with us ...
And she bore me a son." He sighed and refilled his cup again, the
sunlight blinking hotly on the purple surface of the wine. "The boy's my
heir. I want him to be the best man as well. He's got to hold what I've
held, after I'm gone."
Sun Wolf sopped a piece of bread in the honey and said nothing.
He was remembering the scene in the tavern last night, the little black
man, Norbas Milkom, drinking to the Lady Taswind's health, and not
to her affianced lord's.
"What's his name?"
"Jeryn." A little too loudly, after a little too long a pause, Osgard
went on, "The boy's not a coward. But he needs discipline. He reads
too much, that's all. I've put that right, but he needs to be taught by a
warrior, a man who can think in an emergency-a man like yourself.
They say you used to run a school up in Wrynde for warriors. Is that
true?"
"It paid to know who I was getting in my troop."
The King grunted his approval. "And it pays me to know who this
country will be getting as King. Your woman's a fighter, isn't she?"
"She was my second-in-command. She's gotten me out of places
so bad I don't even want to think about them."