"L. E. Modesitt - Spellsong 2 - The Spellsong War" - читать интересную книгу автора (Modesitt L E)

Liedwahr-and all the rest had followed, like dominoes falling,
until she had become regent of a ravaged land. And she'd done
little enough, with the press of the Regency, with the lands
bestowed on her- Loiseau-because Brill had left no heirs. She'd
granted the present tenants the right to remain, but she needed
to do something about a more permanent arrangement. That
meant traveling to Mencha, and she didn't have ten days to
spare, not counting the time she'd need at Loiseau.

Anna sighed. She stood, pushed back the chair from the
worktable, and moved toward the center of the room, her eyes
shifting toward the high-backed gilt chair on the dais, the chair
she avoided using whenever possible. After a moment she
turned, stepped away from the side of the dais, and walked to
the single window at the back of the receiving room, where the
base of the sill was nearly chest-high. Once again, the dimness
reminded her that she'd planned to rearrange the liedburg,
perhaps put the receiving/conference area somewhere with
more ventilation and light.

She sighed-another item low on her long, long list. Before long,
she would need to use some of that sorcery to replace the bridge
over the Falche, one of the casualties of the war with Ebra when
the late Evult had melted all the snow off the northern Ostfels
and sent a flood careening down the Fal River and into the
Falche with enough force to rip out all the bridges and denude
the banks for two hundred and fifty deks. Roughly, a hundred
and fifty earth miles, she translated mentally, rubbing her
forehead. She still had trouble thinking in rods, furls, deks, and
leagues. There weren't any feet, and yards were still basically
yards, and the units above were decimal-based, but she'd never
been that good in mental arithmetic.

"Lady Anna?" Giellum knocked on the heavy door even as he
peered inside. "Counselor Menares to see you. And your
midafternoon repast." The young guard set the platter on the
only open space on the table before straightening.

"Send him in." She headed from the window back to the
worktable.

The heavyset and gray Menares stopped short of Anna and the
table, and bowed, extending the scroll. "This arrived by
messenger, Lady Anna."

"From whom?"

"Lord Arkad of Cheor, I believe."

Anna looked at the plate heaped with bread and cheese before