"L. E. Modesitt - Recluce 11 - The Death of Chaos" - читать интересную книгу автора (Modesitt L E)

day."
"Shoo..." said Rissa.
We shooed, leaving Tamra and Justen sitting at the table, talking about the Balance between
order and chaos. I understood the Balance well enough, having played into Antonin's hand myself by
creating too much order in Fenard. But once you understand that order and chaos must balance, one
way or another, there's not that much else to be said. You try to live by it, although I wasn't
about to give up crafting the most orderly woodwork I could. I wasn't about to put extra order
into my pieces, though. That was the sort of mistake I didn't want to repeat.
Krystal smiled softly at me when I shut the door.
"You..."
"I was tired... I was tired of people talking."
Still marveling that I had not seen her warmth when first I had met her, I opened my arms.
Later, much later, when Krystal lay asleep beside me, her face as open and as innocent as a
child's, I watched her for a long time, knowing, somehow, that the latest wizard business would
drag us all into it.
Outside, I could hear the faint clinking of whoever was on guard. Sometimes, I still shook my
head at it all-the very idea of a woodworker's shop and home being guarded by the autarch's
troops, because his consort was so important.
I kissed Krystal on the cheek. She murmured sleepily and squeezed my hand. I finally rolled
over, snuggling up beside her again.


II
Nylan, Recluce

THE BLACK STONE exterior of the hillside building frames a series of windows overlooking either
the harbor of Nylan, the Gulf of Candar, or the great Eastern Ocean. On only the north side are
there no windows. The windows-both those that slide open and the larger central expanses of glass
that do not-are framed in black oak fitted so closely that the lines of the mitred corners are
invisible. Behind the south-facing second-story window with the optimal view of both the harbor
and the breakwater is the main council chamber of the Brotherhood.
In the late afternoon, whitecaps crown the two-cubit-high waves off the southern tip of the
isle continent of Recluce. The same cool fall wind that raises the whitecaps blows through the
narrow western windows of the chamber and out the equally narrow eastern ones. The three
councilors sit behind the antique curved table that faces the now-empty chairs reserved for those
meeting with the Council.
"Maris, do you have any sense of what is coming?" The broad-shouldered mage in black looks at
the bearded man.
The thin-faced woman lifts a goblet and sips the green juice. Her eyes gaze blankly out the
wide window in the center of the southern wall, but she says nothing.
"You seem to think I'm blind because I'm a trader. We see things. We just see them
differently," offers Maris, the fingers of one hand brushing his square beard. "That's one of the
reasons why the Council has a trader, and not just-"
"Heldra represents the people, and you-" Talryn begins slowly.


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"Spare me the fancy words, Talryn." Maris sighs. "Heldra is a mage who is also a marine leader.