"Mercedes Lackey & Larry Dixon - Mage Wars 01 - The Black Gryphon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lackey Mercedes)

all will be dark. You'll fly again, as Urtho wills—:
She halted her scream as she recognized the code sign for the death-spell. No one had made a
move to block it yet—
He pulled back from her for a bare second, trying to steady himself in his flight. He reached out
again, riding the wind, then unleashed the spell, caught her mind, pulled it free of her body for one
gut-wrenching second. The spell struck home and stopped her heart.
I am sorry, so sorry... you will fly again after the dark.... Then he released her spirit to the
winds.
Somewhere in the captured inn, a bound and wing-cut body convulsed, then lay still. Above the
valley, Skandranon raced away desperately, unable to cry out for her, as seven makaar surged skyward
to destroy him.

At last, the General slept.
Amberdrake started to rise, then sank back down to his seat on the side of the General's bed as
Corani woke convulsively, with a tiny gasp. The anguish was still there, filling the room, palpable even to
the weakest Empath. For an Empath as strong as Amberdrake, the impact of Corani's pain was a blow
to the heart.
Amberdrake waited for the General to speak, while radiating warmth and reassurance,
concentrating on the soothing scents still flavoring the air as a vehicle for that reassurance; the gentle hint
of amber incense, the chamomile in the oils he had used in his massage, the jessamine covering the taste
of sleep-herbs in the tea he'd given Corani. He ignored the throbbing pain in his own temples, his
tension-knotted stomach, and the terrible sense of foreboding that had come upon him at the General's
summons. His feelings did not matter; he was a kestra'chern, and his client—more patient than client, as
was often the case—needed him. He must be the strong one, the rock to rest against. He did not know
Corani well; that was all to the good. Often men of power found it easier to unburden themselves to a
stranger than to a friend.
The General's suite was in Urtho's keep and not in a tent in the camp; easy enough here to pull
heavy curtains to shut out the light and the world with it, to burn dim, scented lamps that invoked a feeling
of disassociation from the armed camp beyond the keep. The General himself had not summoned
Amberdrake; the few times he had called to the camp for a kestra'chern, it had been Riannon SilKedre
he had wanted—slightly inferior to Amberdrake in skill, an accomplished and well-respected female. No,
one of Urtho's aides had come to the tent—quietly, with his livery hidden beneath a cloak, which said
more about the aide's visit than the boy himself did.
Urtho was still closeted with his General when Amberdrake arrived, but when he finally returned to
his quarters, he did not seem surprised to see Amberdrake there. He was clearly distraught, and yet it
had taken Amberdrake hours and every bit of his skill to persuade him to unburden himself.
And he knew why Urtho had chosen him and not Riannon. There were times when it was easier for
a man to reveal his pain to a man—and Amberdrake was utterly trustworthy. Whatever was revealed to
him remained with him forever. He was many things to many people; tonight he had been something of a
Healer, something of a priest, something of a simple, noncommittal ear.
"You must be disappointed," the General said into the lamp-lit dimness, his voice resigned. "You
must think I'm a weakling now."
That was what Corani said; Amberdrake, being what he was, heard what Corani meant.
He was really saying, "I must disgust you for falling apart like this, for looking so poorly composed,"
and, "You must despise me and think me unworthy of my position."
"No," Amberdrake replied simply, to both the spoken and unspoken assertions. He did not want to
think what the General's collapse meant to him, personally; he must not think of it. Must not remember
the messengers that roused the camp last night; the premonitions that had awakened the more sensitive
and marginally Gifted among the Healers and kestra'chern from nightmares of blood and fire against the
outline of the mountains. Must not think of the fact that Corani's family came from Laisfaar at Stelvi Pass,