"Charles Ingrid - The Sand Wars 05 - Return Fire" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ingrid Charles)

"No, by God! I perjured myself, Storm, to give you a second chance.
What are you doing here?"

Jack lowered himself into an expansive chair across from the couch. "I'm
grateful for everything you've done."

"And we're both ruined if anyone saw you come in."

"I'd not be much of a Knight if I couldn't get past a few Thraks."

Colin's mouth twisted as he steadied his hands and reached for his teacup
again. Pointedly, he did not offer his guest any. Storm did not need an
invitation. He scooped up a cup with movement suggesting his
long-fingered hands, one of them oddly missing the smallest finger, had
handled much more delicate instruments. Colin had wondered for years
how his friend had injured himself, but there were some questions one did
not ask a free mercenary. And now, of course, Storm was no longer a
mercenary, but a sworn Knight, a fighting man mated to the technology of
battle armor. But now Colin also knew, had learned, what had caused that
injury, and others, which haunted the man. Being confined in cold sleep for
seventeen years had taken its toll. Frostbite here, and other, more subtle and
devastating changes elsewhere.

Jack waited for Colin to down half a cup. "What makes you so
melancholy and testy this late in the day?"

St. Colin made a most unsaintly face. "I find myself faced with composing
a eulogy."

"Ah." Storm added compassionately. "It happens to all of us, sooner or
later."
 "You should know," the man said dryly. "It's your funeral."

"What!"

"Don't tell me you didn't know. And here you are, making a liar out of
me."

Storm put his teacup down, stood, and paced, the wood table an
uncertain barrier between them. "It's only been a few months."

"The Thrakian ambassador has been pressing to take you off the MI list
and have you officially laid to rest. Then he can press to have K'rok instated
as permanent commander in your absence." Colin watched as Storm halted
and several expressions flitted across the Knight's face.

"K'rok?"

"Who else?"