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

her on the round oak table that served as work-time eating
place, desk, and conference table, then at the sealed scroll.

She didn't want to eat any more, and she certainly didn't want
to read the latest scroll from Lord Arkad-or his scribe. But she
had to eat, because of the energy demands of sorcery, or she'd
literally wither away into anorexia or the local equivalent. She
also had to read the scroll because Arkad was one of the
thirty-three lords of Defalk. From what she recalled, he was also
one of the handful who still hadn't paid his liedgeld to the
Regency, nearly a season past the end of harvest when it was
due.

"Sit down, Menares." She took the scroll, then motioned to the
chair across from the one where she sat. After a long look at the
platter, she took a swallow of water and a mouthful of bread
and cheese, and a second, forcing herself to eat, still fighting a
lifetime of habit that equated any healthy amount of eating
with gluttony.

Menares shifted his weight on the chair, but said nothing.

Anna broke the seal and began to read to herself.
Arkad has always supported the rightful rulers of Defalk, and
certainly recognizes the legitimacy of the late and great Lord
Barjim, and of his son Jimbob. As we have expressed earlier,
while Lord Jecks and other respected lords of Defalk have
reluctantly endorsed the expediency of a prolonged Regency, as
did we, our initial concerns about the continuity of such an
arrangement remain, especially about the use of the liedgeld.
As a loyal lord, we are deeply concerned that such funds, which
have been sweated from the very soil, be employed in support
of Defalk's long and glorious tradition. We ask your assurance
and your pledge as regent that such funds be used as
traditionally required. We look forward to your response, and
to your continued efforts on behalf of Lord Jimbob...
Arkad hadn't signed the missive, but concluded with a
sealmark and his name printed beside it.
Anna snorted. Lord Arkad of Cheor was getting to be an even
bigger pain, with his missives and not-so-subtle hints that a
male Regency or ruler was to be preferred and trusted, not to
mention his use of the royal we . She had to put an end to such
garbage, preferably without putting an end to the writer. She
couldn't ensorcel or flame every chauvinistic lord in Defalk- not
and have much of a kingdom left for Jimbob to inherit.

She sighed.

"Lord Jecks, Lady Anna," announced Skent, the dark-haired
page, from the door.