"Canavan, Trudi (Black Magician 03)-The High Lord v1" - читать интересную книгу автора (Canavan Trudi)

And then, just as it seemed the gossip and suspicion had passed, everything had changed. Akkarin had come to Rothen's room to tell them that he had discovered that they knew of his secret. He had read Lorlen's mind, and wanted to read theirs. Knowing that Akkarin was too powerful to fight, they dared not refuse. Afterward, she remembered, Akkarin had paced the room.
"You would both expose me if you could," he said. "I will claim Sonea's guardianship. She will ensure your silence. You will never cause anyone to know that I practice black magic while she is mine." His eyes shifted to Sonea's. "And Rothen's wellbeing will be my guarantee that you will cooperate."
Sonea set her feet on the path to the High Lord's Residence. That confrontation had taken place so long ago, it felt as if it had happened to someone else, or to a character in a story she had heard. She had been Akkarin's favorite for a year and a half now and it was not as bad as she'd feared. He hadn't used her as a source of extra power, or tried to involve her in his evil practices. Aside from the sumptuous dinners she attended with him every Firstday evening, she rarely saw him at all. When they did speak, it was only of her training in the University.
Except for that one night, she thought.
She slowed as she remembered. Many months ago, returning after classes, she had heard loud noises and shouting from below the residence. Descending the stairs to the underground room, she had witnessed Akkarin kill a man with black magic. He had claimed the man was a Sachakan assassin, sent to murder him.
"Why did you kill him?" she asked. "Why not hand him over to the Guild?"
"Because, as you've no doubt guessed, he and his kind know things about me that I'd rather the Guild did not. You must be wondering who these people are, and why they want me dead. I can tell you only this: the Sachakans still hate the , Guild, but they also fear us. From time to time they send one of these, to test me."
Sonea knew as much about Kyralia's neighbor as any other third-year novice. All novices studied the war between the Sachakan Empire and the Kyralian magicians. They were taught that the Kyralians had won the war by forming the Guild and sharing magical knowledge. Seven centuries later, the Sachakan Empire was all but gone and much of Sachaka remained a wasteland.
When she thought about it, it was not hard to believe that the Sachakans still hated the Guild. This was probably the reason, too, why Sachaka was not a member of the Allied Lands. Unlike Kyralia, Elyne, Vin, Lonmar and Lan, Sachaka was not bound to the agreement that all magicians must be taught and watched over by the Guild. It was possible magicians existed in Sachaka, though she doubted they were well trained.
If they were a threat, surely the Guild knew about it. Sonea frowned. Perhaps some magicians did know. Perhaps it was a secret only the Higher Magicians and the King were allowed to know. The King would not want ordinary people worrying about the existence of Sachakan magiciansЧ unless the Sachakans became a serious threat, of course.
Were these assassins threat enough? She shook her head. The occasional assassin sent to kill the High Lord wasn't a serious matter if he could fend them off easily enough.
She checked her stride. Perhaps the only reason Akkarin could fend them off was because he strengthened himself with black magic. Her heart skipped a beat. That would mean the assassins were frighteningly strong. Akkarin had suggested that they knew he used black magic. They would not attack him without making sure they had a chance of killing him. Did this mean they, too, used black magic?
She shivered. And each night I sleep in the same house as the man they're trying to kill.

Perhaps this was why Lorlen hadn't come up with a way to get rid of Akkarin yet. Perhaps he knew Akkarin had a good reason for using black magic. Perhaps he didn't intend to oust Akkarin at all.
No, she thought. If Akkarin's reasons were honorable, I would not be his hostage. If he'd been able to prove his motives were good, he would have tried to, rather than have two magicians and a novice constantly searching for a way to defeat him.
And if he was at all concerned for my wellbeing, why keep me in the residence, where the assassins are likely to strike?
She was sure Lorlen was concerned for her wellbeing. He would tell her, if he knew Akkarin's motives were honorable. He wouldn't want her to believe she was in a worse situation than she really was.
Abruptly, she remembered the ring on Lorlen's finger. For more than a year, rumors had been circulating in the city about a killer who wore a silver ring with a red gemstone. Just like the one Lorlen wore.
But this had to be a coincidence. She knew a little of Lorlen's mind and she could not imagine Lorlen murdering anyone.
Reaching the door of the residence, Sonea stopped and took a deep breath. What if the man Akkarin had killed hadn't been an assassin? What if he had been a Sachakan diplomat who'd discovered Akkarin's crime, and Akkarin had lured him to the residence to kill him . . . and then discovered the man was a magician?
Stop! Enough!
She shook her head as if that would clear it of this fruitless speculation. For months she had considered these possibilities, going over and over what she had seen and been told. Every week she looked at Akkarin over the dinner table and wished she had the courage to ask him why he had learned black magic, but stayed silent. If she could not be sure that the answers were truthful, why bother asking the questions?
Reaching out, she brushed the handle of the door with her fingers. As always, it swung inward at the lightest touch. She stepped inside.
His tall, dark figure rose from one of the guestroom chairs. She felt a familiar twinge of fear and pushed it aside. A single globe light hovered above his head, casting his eyes into shadow. His lips curled upward at one side as if he was mildly amused.
"Good evening, Sonea."
She bowed. "High Lord."
His pale hand gestured to the stairway entrance. Putting her case of books and notes down, Sonea entered the stairway and started climbing. Akkarin's globe light floated up the center of the stairwell as he followed. Reaching the second level, she walked down the corridor and entered a room furnished with a large table and several chairs. A delicious smell filled the air and set her stomach rumbling quietly.
Akkarin's servant, Takan, bowed to her as she sat down, then left.
"What did you study today, Sonea?" Akkarin asked.
"Architecture," she replied. "Construction methods."
One eyebrow rose slightly. "Shaping stone with magic?"
"Yes."
He looked thoughtful. Takan returned to the room carrying a large platter, from which he transferred several small bowls to the table, then strode away. Sonea waited until Akkarin began to select from the bowls, before loading her own plate with food.
"Did you find it difficult, or easy?"
Sonea hesitated. "Difficult at first, then easier. It's ... not unlike Healing."
His gaze sharpened. "Indeed. And how is it different?"
She considered. "Stone does not have the natural barrier of resistance that the body has. It has no skin."
"That's true, but something like a barrier can be created if..."
His voice trailed off. She looked up to find him frowning, his gaze fixed on the wall behind her. His eyes shifted to hers, then he relaxed and looked down at the table.
"I have a meeting to attend tonight," he said, pushing back his chair. "Enjoy the rest of the meal, Sonea."

Surprised, she watched him stride to the door, then looked at his half-eaten meal. Occasionally she arrived for the weekly dinner to find Takan waiting in the guestroom with the good news that the High Lord would not be attending. But only twice before had Akkarin left the meal early. She shrugged and continued eating.
As she finished the course, Takan reappeared. He stacked the bowls and plates onto the platter. Watching him, she noticed a tiny crease between his eyebrows.
He looks worried, she thought.
Remembering her earlier speculations, she felt a chill run up her spine. Was Takan afraid that another assassin might enter the residence looking for Akkarin?
Suddenly she wanted only to get back to the University. She stood up and looked at the servant. "Don't worry about dessert, Takan."
The man's face changed subtly. Reading disappointment, she could not help feeling a pang of guilt. He might be Akkarin's loyal servant, but he was also a gifted cook. Had he made a dish he was particularly proud of, and was dismayed that they were both leaving it uneaten?
"Was it something that will . . . keep a few hours?" she asked hesitantly.
He met her gaze briefly and, not for the first time, she caught a glimpse of a sharp intelligence there, not completely hidden behind his deferential manner.