"Denning, Troy - Forgotten Realms - MoonShae 3 - Darkwell" - читать интересную книгу автора (Denning Troy)

Beast that corrupted your own leader, and the foul sorcery at his command, both conspired to destroy the peoples of the isles."
"But did they serve the same master?"
"The wizard was but a pawn, like we are" stated Robyn bluntly. Tristan looked at her in surprise as she continued. "The true nature of the threat we face is a chaotic force of evil far greater than magic, and even greater than the Beast."
"How do you know?" asked the northman.
"I have seen the corruption strike at the very soul of the land. My teacher, and the druids who fought beside her, with all the faith of the balance and the land behind them, were not enough to stop it!" Neither Robyn, nor anyone else, noticed the bright gleam in the eyes of the redheaded woman as she leaned forward to catch every word of the young druid's explanation.
"The power behind this evil is greater than could be wielded by any man, even a sorcerer such as Cyndre. The power is served by a cleric of incalculable evil, but even that cleric is but a pawn. There is only one answer: Our islands are threatened by one of the Dark Gods."
Robyn spoke softly, but all of those at the table looked furtively toward her as she spoke. All except Newt, that is, who took the opportunity to steal another, and then a third sip from Tristan's mug. The red-haired woman licked her lips, while the others stared with expressions of apprehension or disbelief.
Grunnarch frowned. "Why should one of the Dark Gods desire the Moonshaes when there are rich empiresЧ Calimshan, Thay, WaterdeepЧall across the Realms? What do we have here?"
Robyn bit her tongue, holding back an angry reply. She realized that he really did not understand. "These islands have a life of their own! Perhaps that is one reason our people make war on each other with such regularity. The Ffolk have always felt that the men of the north do not treat our land with the reverence it deserves."
She suddenly leaned against the table, wincing in discom-
DARK WELL
fort, and Tristan took hold of her arm. Unnoticed by them all, the red-haired woman smiled and stared intently at the dniid.
"What is it?" Tristan asked. "Are you all right?"
Quickly she shook off his hand, sat upright, and continued. "The Moonwells are the proof. Genna toJd me that when her grandmother was a girl, there was a Moonwell in every village of the isles. Druids by the hundreds patrolled the wild places, working the will of the goddess."
"Indeed," agreed Friar Nolan. "These isles have a peculiarly sacred nature, obvious to those of us who worship the new gods, as well as to the druids. Remember, not all of these gods are of the same vein as the master of this evil. Many of these clerics, as you, regard the Moonwells as benign and sanctified places."
"But there are no Moonwells on Norland!" protested the Red King, and then he looked thoughtful.
"Precisely! And as the faith of the people wanes, as more of the lands are taken from the Ffolk, the power of the goddess grows weaker." Suddenly Robyn shook her head violently, and the color drained from her face.
"But the enchantment of the land remains?"
"Yes. And becomes more susceptible to corruption with each passing year, each new blow against . . . the Ffolk." Robyn was trying hard not to state her points accusingly, but she was only partially succeeding. She had trouble speaking the words clearly, and an acute nausea grew within her. All the while, the strange woman stared at her, piercing the druid's skin with those cold black eyes.
"But the land is here, like all other lands, for the using!" argued Grunnarch.
"The using, yes, but not the abuse or destruction! It is when humans destroy that which supports them that the goddess suffers most keenly."
"You, like your king, are wise beyond your years," mused the northman. "I do not like the thought that my people are responsible for bringing this evil to the land."
"Perhaps you can help us to remove it." Tristan spoke earnestly, staring his guest in the face.
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"I owe you my life. Ask what you will. If it is in my power to give, you shall have it."
"For now, I'll be happy to have your friendship," Tristan said warmly. "Let's toast: To peace between us, and between our children!" Both kings raised their mugs and drank deeply, thumping them back to the tabletop at the same instant. THstan realized, suppressing a belch, that he had had a lot to drink.
"Time for some dancing!" proclaimed lavish suddenly. She rose and unstrapped her lute, checking the tuning of a few errant strings. Eager Ffolk pushed some of the tables aside, and Tristan turned to Robyn, ready to kick up his feet. She shook her head in confusion, and he leaned over toward her, again concerned.
"I'm sorry," she said weakly. "I'm not feeling well at all. I think I'd better go to bed."
He offered to walk her to her room, but she declined. "Well, wake me at first light," he offered. "We'll ride at dawn."
She looked at him skeptically. "I'll wake you then," she said with a laugh, "but you'll surprise me if we leave before mid-morning!" With a forced smile, she left the hall.
Tristan turned back to the table and bumped someone who had not been there a moment earlier. With surprise, he saw the red-haired woman wiping the contents of a spilled mug from her apron.
"Excuse me," he said. "Let meЧ"
"That's all right," she interrupted. She smiled at him, a rich, glowing look that caused his blood to race. He had not noticed earlier just how attractive she was.
"Sit here," he said, not knowing why he offered the seat Robyn had just vacated. "Move, Newt." He pushed the faerie dragon aside, and Newt, with an indignant "Hmph!" disappeared.
The woman handed him another mug as he sat heavily beside her. He stared at her mutely as Ffolk throughout the hall rose to dance to the strains of Tavish's lute. Something very appealing, and a little wicked, gleamed at him from her eyes.
DARKWELL
"You are a very handsome king," she said quietly. Her voice was soft and husky.
His head swirled, and lust rose unbidden within him. Her hand fell softly on his leg, and the pressure of her fingers burned into his flesh.
"Who are you?" He realized as he asked the Question that her answer would mean nothing to him. It didn't matter who she was. He did know that he wanted her with a physical yearning beyond anything he had ever felt.
Tristan was unaware, or chose to ignore, the uncomfortable looks of Pawldo and Randolph as his two friends cast sideways glances at their king. He took no note of Pontswain's sneer, nor even of the hot anger burning in Daryth's eyes. The Calishite glowered at the girl, but she squeezed the king's thigh more tightly.
Abruptly she stood and swirled away from the table, her loose gown flowing around the full contours of her body. Tristan stumbled to his feet as she slipped away. A desperate fear rose within himЧhe mustn't let her get away.
"Sire?" came the call from behind him in Daryth's strained voice.
Friar Nolan stood and laid a restraining hand upon Tristan's arm, but the king angrily shook it off. The cleric shrank back into his chair under the intensity of Tristan's blazing stare.
But then the king had eyes only for the luscious creature that slid sinuously across the great room. She passed through the door, into a darkened hallway. He followed behind, eagerly hurrying to her side, but she twisted away and dashed up the stairs to the royal living quarters. Tripping on the first step, he regained his balance and followed her.
Somehow she found his bedchamber, and he followed her inside, pulling the door shut with a slam behind him. Her robe fell away, and the sight of her nakedness took his breath from him. He lunged toward her and they fell across the huge bed, his own tunic falling, unnoticed, around his ankles.
Desire took hold of his brain, giving him clear focus and
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strong purpose. Nothing could be more important than this warm, wanton woman beneath him.
Newt looked blearily at Tristan and Robyn from his invisible position next to a recently full pitcher of ale. Suppressing a belch, he squinted. What was wrong?
That wasn't Robyn! Sitting up in shock, the little dragon watched the womanЧthat floozy!Чlead the unfortunate Tristan toward the door. This wasn't right, wasn't right at all! Where did Robyn go? What did that awful creature have in mind for his friend?