"Huff, Tanya - Kigh 01 - Sing The Four Quarters V2.0" - читать интересную книгу автора (Huff Tanya)

Albek stood. "You'll excuse me, I've caused unintentional strife between you, I'll just…"
"Sit," Olina snarled.
He sat, smoothing the wide legs of his trousers and hiding a smile. Glancing up through his lashes, he studied first Pjerin than Olina. The duke, in his late twenties, was a powerfully built man whose height made him appear deceptively slender. His aunt, eleven years older, was a slender woman who radiated power. He wore his thick black hair tied back at the nape of his neck with a bit of leather. She wore hers in one heavy braid wrapped around her head like an ebony crown. He smoldered. She flamed. They were both tall, and dark, and beautiful, and Albek loved to watch them fight.
"Ohrid controls the pass. Therefore, we control what passes through it." Olina advanced on her nephew. "We could become the linchpin between two great nations."
"Increased trade with Cemandia," Pjerin growled, "is a betrayal of everything this family stands for!"
"Because generations ago our ancestor was chased out of Cemandia?" Her posture changed from aggressive to mocking. "The first Duke of Ohrid, fleeing from oppression, building a keep at the head of what he so romantically named Defiance Pass to protect his people from pursuit. He built this keep in order that he and his entire household not be dragged back to face a charge of treason. You, of course, are happy to huddle in this pile of rock, trying desperately to keep warm, holding tight to tradition when we could use what we have to become rich and powerful. To better the lives of everyone in Ohrid."
"None of my people are fool enough to believe Cemandian promises. We increase trade and Cemandia will do everything in its power to crush Ohrid's independence."
She moved closer. Pjerin stepped back, one step, then his shoulders folded the heavy tapestry against the wall and she closed the distance between them. He tossed his head like a horse fighting the bit. "If you're not happy here, Olina, go somewhere else."
"Like your mother did?" She spread the fingers of one hand on his chest and smiled with satisfaction as he tried unsuccessfully to flinch away. "Maybe if your father had been a little more open to change, she wouldn't have gone. Wouldn't have run off with that Cemandian trader. Wouldn't have caused your father so much trouble trying to get you back."
"Stop it!"
Olina waited long enough for it to become obvious she moved only because she wanted to, then she turned on one heel and strode back toward the fireplace. "It occurs to me," she said thoughtfully, "I should be speaking to King Theron, not to you."
"What are you talking about?" He jerked away from the wall and shoved at a lock of hair that had fallen forward out of the tie.
"Well…" She bent and threw another piece of wood on the fire. "… if King Theron were to tell you to open the pass to expanded trade, you'd have no choice."
"King Theron?"
"He is your liege lord," she reminded him dryly. "You do remember that great-grandfather, your great-greatgrandfather, surrendered Ohrid's ever so valued independence to Shkoder. If King Theron says jump, my dear Pjerin, you ask how high on the way up."
A muscle twitched in Pjerin's jaw. "I don't give a rat's ass about King Theron. I am Duke of Ohrid and I will not allow increased trade with Cemandia." Hands curled into fists he charged toward the door, whirled, and glared down at the Cemandian trader. "See you that remember it, Albek!"
"I will, Your Grace. Oh, and I was sorry to hear about your dogs." His sincerity was undeniable. "To lose them both at once must have been very upsetting."
Pjerin stared at the Cemandian, conflicting emotions twisting his face. Unable to find an answer, he snarled what might have been a wordless agreement and slammed out of the room.
"Well, that bit of unexpected sympathy certainly confused him," Olina observed. "Which I'm sure was your intention."
"If he doesn't think of me personally as an enemy, it will make things easier tonight." Albek sighed and stretched his feet back toward the fire. "Besides, I was sorry to hear about his dogs. I had a dog once myself."
"Spare me."
"You play him very well."
Olina snorted. "It isn't difficult. He's too arrogant to see past what I dangle in front of him. It never even occurs to him that I have as little desire to run a tollgate between Shkoder and Cemandia as he does, that I want a part of something bigger."
"That you want to control a part of something bigger."
"That goes without saying."
"I liked the bit about King Theron. A nice touch. I can use it."
"Of course you can."
"But you still seem hesitant."
"I'm still considering your certain amount of risk," she told him dryly.
"Olina." Albek shook his head. "I've studied every possibility and this leaves us with the greatest chance of success. Consider," he raised a finger, "the accidental death of the Duke would require a full investigation before the title could go to his son. The bards would not only question us but the kigh as well, and that risk is far too great. While the kigh are not always around, we can't take the chance they won't be watching." He closed his eyes for an instant as fear beaten into him his entire life threatened to break through his control, then he raised a second finger. "Assassination, the same result. But…" A third finger lifted to join the other two. "… if he condemns himself by his own mouth, there will be no further investigation, there never is. You will be left to regent for the child with a shocked and saddened people behind you."
"And it will all be over."
"Oh, no. It will just be beginning." He dropped his hand and laced his fingers in his lap, adding with no change of expression in either face or voice, "You've bedded him."
"Yes." It wasn't a question, but she chose to answer it anyway. "Was it that obvious?"
Albek smiled, wondering why she'd chosen to let him know, fully aware she did nothing without a reason. "Wasn't it intended to be?"
"Perhaps." Pushing herself away from the mantle, she advanced on the trader. "At nineteen he was an enthusiastic partner, but as he got older…"
"He insisted on retaining control?"
"Essentially."
"And the boy, Gerek?"
"What? Do you suddenly think he's my son as well? Don't be a fool." Amusement and disdain were equally mixed in her tone. "Gerek is exactly what we say he is; the legally witnessed child of a woman who had her eye on timber rights. Pjerin, in turn, wanted an heir but had no interest in being joined; not after the mess his father made of it. She got her favor. He got his heir. I thought you spoke to Gerek's mother? You told me that, in your not so humble opinion, as long as her son was safe and happy she would be no problem."
"I did." Albek brushed a honey-colored curl back off his face and let both shoulders rise and fall in a graceful shrug. "But I had to explore the possibility. You understand."
"Yes, I understand." Her voice held an edge. She straddled his outstretched legs, and slowly, deliberately, stroked her gaze down the length of his body and back.
He shifted in the chair. "I do have to go, as I said, tomorrow morning."
—"Of course you do. The pass doesn't defy the weather and won't remain open much longer."
"And tonight…" He tried to look away, found he couldn't, and wet his lips. "Tonight, I must concentrate on Pjerin."
"How pleasant for you both." Olina bent forward. Her eyes still holding Albek's, she grasped both arms of the chair and made him a prisoner beneath the arch of her body. Her smile became decidedly feral. "All things considered then, I suggest that we don't waste the afternoon."
"Papa, why don't you like Aunty Olina's friend?"
"Because I think he'd sell his own mother if the price was right." Pjerin lifted his son out of the bath and set him on the hearth, wrapping him in the towel that had been warming in front of the nursery fire.
"Oh." The piping voice came out a little muffled through the enveloping fabric. "How much does a mother cost?"
"Why? Do you want one?"
Gerek's head emerged, hair sticking out in damp black spikes, expression indignant. "I got one," he reminded his father. His mother came to visit sometimes and sometimes, although he didn't like it as much—because his grandpapa was very old and didn't care much for small boys even when they tried hard to be quiet—he went to visit her. "And I got you, and Nurse Jany, and Aunty Olina, and Bohdan, and Rezka, and Urmi, and Kaspar, and Brencis…"