"Bertin,.Joanne.-.The.Last.Dragonlord.(1998).ShareConnector.com" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bertin Joanne)

He let his thoughts drift, seeking a particular mind. There came a faint stirring, an impression of the sea, the whisper of wind in canvas, a ship gently rocking. To his surprise he had to strain to keep the link; Otter was much further away than Linden had thought he'd be.
Then the link wavered on the edge of dissolving; the distance was just too great. Linden was about to abandon the attempt when he felt a sudden surge of power.
What onЧ? Then he realized: his quarry was on board a ship. That burst of magical power must mean some merlings, the half-fish, half-human people of the seas, were nearby. They often followed ships for days at a time. Somehow their magic must be augmenting his own.
He was not slow to take advantage of this bit of luck. Otter? he said.
A wordless rush of delight, then, Linden? Linden, is that really you?
Linden smiled. It is indeed, old friend. I'm leaving Dragonskeep in the morning. Quickly he told the bard all he knew. I'm flying there in dragon form. I thought we might journey together afterward. I could come back for Shan and meet you wherever you areЧor rather, are going to.
Otter said, You're not taking Shan? Have you told him yet that you're leaving him behind? I wish I could see it when you do.
Linden grimaced at the thought of how his Llysanyin stallion would take the news. I thought I'd wait until the morning. He'II probably bite me. Where are you bound for?
Otter replied, Believe it or not, we're on our way to the great city of Casna, as well.
There was a sly feel to Otter's mindvoice that Linden knew well. Someone was in for a teasing. Wondering who was the intended victim, he said, What are you doing at sea?
For the past few months I've been visiting a kinsman who lives now in Thalnia. You might remember himЧRedhawk, a wool trader. His son Raven's best friend is a trader-captain, one of the Erdon merchant family of Thalnia. I asked to go with her; I've an itch to travel again. She agreed to let me sail with her.
Redhawk? Raven? Linden thought a moment. Ah! I remember them now, especially the little boy; red hair and a passion for horses.
Otter's chuckle tickled in his mind.
Little? The lad's now nearly as tall as you are! And still horse-mad, much to his father's despair. A pity he's not along; the two of you would get on well together.
Linden nodded, forgetting as he always did that Otter couldn't see it; it felt as though the bard stood next to him. And why are you going to Casna?
It happened to be the first northern port the Sea Mist is bound for. I'd planned to journey to Dragonskeep to drag you out of there and go traveling with me. Poor Maurynna; when she heard that, she was wild to come with me. Tried to talk her uncle, the head of their family, into letting her take a trading trip overland, but he was having none of that.
Linden wondered who Maurynna was, then decided she must be the captain. And from the feel of Otter's mindvoice, he now knew who the intended victim was to be. OtterЧwhat bit of mischief are you planning?
Never you mind, boyo. Then, wistfully, Gods, but it's been a long time.
Linden sighed. He'd forgotten how long the years were to truehumans. It was part of the magic of Dragonlords; to be caught out of time until the dragon half of their souls woke, years passing with the swiftness of daysЧ both blessing and curse.
He rubbed his temples; even with the aid of the merlings' magic, his head was beginning to ache. He said, Kief and Tarlna are coming, as well. A brief wave of sadness washed over him. He hoped Otter didn't feel it.
Tarlna, eh? Aren't you the lucky one, Otter said. But Maurynna will be delightedЧthree Dragonlords in Casna!
Linden raised an eyebrow at that. Oh? was all he said, but put a world of meaning into it. When will you make port?
I'd guess in a few tendays or so, but I'm not certain. Perhaps sooner; we're making good time or so I'm told. We left Assantik two days ago, looking for something Maurynna calls the Great Current. Ah, LindenЧ may I ask you a favor?
Here, then, was his answer. Of course. What?
Would you mind if I introduced her to you? She'd be thrilled.
Oh, gods. Another one looking for a Dragonlord as a lover's trophy, no doubt. He hoped she wasn't the sort to gush. Still, she was a friend of Otter's; he couldn't refuse. NoЧ I don't mind.
I should warn you right now that you're one of her heroes. She's always loved any story about DragonlordsЧand about Bram and Rani and the Kelnethi War. This will be a dream come true for her. You're not only a Dragonlord, boyoЧyou're Bram's kinsman who fought alongside him and Rani.
Linden cringed. This was going to be worse than usual.
Kief and Tarlna. A moment's hesitation, then Otter said, I'm sorry, Linden; it will be hard for you, won't it?
Linden bowed his head. Somehow, at Dragonskeep, although there were soultwinned couples all around him, he could ignore it. Whenever it became too much, he had friends he could escape to in the outlying villages or go riding in the mountains. But in Casna, the only people he would know would be Kief and Tarlna. And theirs was one of the closest bonds in the Keep. Being with them would be like having salt water constantly poured into a wound. Perhaps there would be someone in Casna to help him forget for a little while.
He should have known the bard would catch that quick betrayal of loneliness beforeЧand not have forgotten. He made light of it. Ah, well; at least I'm not the one tied to Tarlna.
To lighten the mood again, he told Otter what Lleld had said earlier.
The bard laughed. She said that, did she? Imp. You've enough to worry about with Tarlna; you don't need a wicked mage.
The mage, Linden said, might even be preferable.
The power that had been aiding his effort wavered; the group of merlings must be splitting up. Otter, I can't hold this link much longer.
I understand. Shall I look for you at the palace when we make port? I'm known there; I played many times for Queen Desia.
Yes, Linden replied. Good bye. He let the contact fade, groaning a little at the ache that had settled behind his eyes. The scent of callitha blossoms returned, spicy and soothing. Afterward he sat watching the night sky for a long time.
Nethuryn never knew who slipped the note under his door. Perhaps it was Joreda, who sometimes saw the truth in her fortune-telling sticks. But anonymous as it was, it had the ring of truth.
The cold-eyed one sends his wolf for you.
Nethuryn's hands shook as if with a palsy as he read it over and over. "Gods help me," the old mage pleaded in a whisper. He looked wildly about his comfortable lodgings.
He knew who hunted him. And what they wanted. He even knew who the "wolf" would be.
"Mmmrow!" A black-and-white cat twined about his ankles, demanding attention. Annoyed when the customary pat didn't follow, the cat batted at the hem of the old man's robes.
The tug brought Nethuryn back to himself. "Oh, Merro-lad, I'm sorry. We've been happy here for so long, but now..." He swayed and caught himself on the back of a chair. "Now we have to run.''
But was there anywhere he could hide and not be found? Pelnar wasn't big enough to hide him, not fromЧ
Despairing, he sank to the floor. Perhaps he should just give up; he was old, useless, his magics nearly gone . ..
Metro jumped into his arms and purred in delight. What will happen to Merro if you die? Nethuryn demanded of himself as the black-and-white head butted his shoulder.
The old mage took a deep breath. "We shan't make it easy for him, eh, boy? No, he'll have to hunt for us, he will. Hunt us and . . . and it."
Setting the cat down, Nethuryn clambered stiffly to his feet and set to work.

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