"Rawn, Melanie - Dragon Star 03 - Skybowl" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dragon Stories)

Whatever words Andry had planned while on the road, however he had thought he might greet his familyЧand they himЧafter the horrors of the Autumn and Winter, all of it fled and none of it mattered when he saw his brother.
Maarken strode eagerly across the courtyard, arms held wide. For a moment Andry thought it was a trick of the twilight, that half-empty left sleeve. Then he glimpsed the white bandage and cried out.
"It's all right, Andry," Maarken whispered as they embraced. "Don't worry. It doesn't hurt and it's healing well. I'm even starting to get used to it."
He could say nothing but his brother's name, almost a moan of rage and pain. Why hadn't Sionell warned him?
The second shock came when Tobin hobbled across the cobblestones. Sunlight observation had distanced the reality. Andry looked down at the slurred ruin of his mother's beautiful face, heard her voice stumble over the two easy syllables of his name, and wanted to weep. He bent quickly to hold her, to hide his face and his anguish.
When he glanced up, his father was standing nearby. Chay was old now. This was his seventieth winter and there was no denying it. Even in muted dusk, the lines and gray hair and the strain of war showed painfully clear. As Maarken supported Tobin, Andry blindly sought his father's arms. There was strength in them still, but he was trembling.
"Andry. I'm glad you're home," Chay said simply.
He hung on as hard as he could, until he was sure he could face them all again without tears in his eyes. Drawing
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SKYBOWL
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away, he caught sight of Pol in the great doorway of the castle. In some strange way, this was the worst of all. He'd coolly prepared himself to face his cousin, but the triple blows of his brother's maimed arm, his mother's infirmity, and his father's age unbalanced him. Pol's wife and child had been seized by the enemy. Andry had seen it happen. PityЧstronger than anything he had intended to feelЧtook him by surprise.
Odder still, Pol made it easy on him. It was the High Prince who descended the steps of Feruche, hands outstretched, to say, "You are well come, my Lord."
"Thank you, your grace," replied the Lord of Goddess Keep.
But somehow, by the time their fingers clasped and held, they were only Pol and Andry again. Each felt it, acknowledged it with a single glance, and let the other go.
"There's a lot to be said," Pol murmured. "But it can wait until you've rested. Tobren and Hollis are getting your old room ready for you."
His "old room," when he had only been in this castle once before in his life. But it was the room Sorin had made for him, everything in it selected with him in mind. Andry nodded, appreciating the subtle inclusion of him as part of the family.
"There is a lot to tell," he answered, adding wryly, "I'll try to sleep fast. Or maybe Chayla has something to keep me awake while we talk. I'm told she's getting to be quite the physiЧ" He broke off at the stricken look in Pol's eyes.
"Andry, the Vellant'im have her."
Something else Sionell had neglected to mention. "When? What's being done? Have you looked for her on sunlЧ-oh, Hells, of course you have."
"Maarken can tell you on the way upstairs. Go on, you're exhausted." He began to move away.
"Pol." Andry waited until his cousin had faced him again. "About MeiglanЧ"
He shook his head violently. Raking back sun-bleached hair with an unsteady hand, he rasped, "No. Later. You can tell me later."
Andry and Maarken stayed silent by mutual consent on the climb upstairs. Tobren was waiting in his rooms, and burst into tears when she saw him. He held her and sopthed
her with paternal murmurings, but was grateful when Hollis took her down to dinner. The brothers were left alone.
"Just so you know, I'll tell you how this happened," Maarken said, holding up his left arm. "But I don't want to hear anything more about it. Ever."
Andry sank into his bath and nodded.
Maarken settled on the tiled edge of the tub, speaking in crisp, dispassionate tones. "It was at Skybowl. Pol and I were back-to-back, the way Father taught us. I don't know if the Vellanti got lucky or I got careless, butЧ" He shrugged. "Pol killed him. Then he cauterized my arm with Sunrunner's FireЧprobably saved my life, according to Feylin. Instead of bleeding to death, I lost hardly any blood at all."
"I see," Andry replied numbly.
Maarken's voice changed then, took on a shading of bewilderment. "It really doesn't hurtЧexcept when I think it's there. That happens with this kind of injury, I'm told. But it's odd, because it feels familiar, in a way."
"Kind of like the way you felt after you lost Jahni, the way I felt when Sorin died."
"Yes," Maarken said, relieved at being understood as few others could understand him. "It's losing part of yourself. They say the connection is much stronger with identical twins, and none of us are, but I can't imagine it could be any worse than it was for you and me. When I think of Rohannon and ChaylaЧ" His voice nearly broke on his daughter's name.
Andry said quickly, "Is Rohannon all right? Where is-he?"
"With Arlis. Safe enough for now. ChaylaЧ" Maarken's jaw tightened. "That's what I regret about my hand. I want it back to kill them with."
He scrubbed intently at a foot so he wouldn't have to look at his brother. "This is the last time we'll speak of it, Maarken. You're still you. Still a Sunrunner."
"That's the other thingЧand the strangest, really. Even when I don't feel the hand still there, I sense my rings. As if they'reЧI don't know, as if the power was somehow in them, not in me."
"It's special gold. Lady Merisel's work, or so the stories have it. I've seen Torien cast them, the way Urival taught him to do. But it's her power in the gold. Just because they're gone doesn't meanЧ"
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"Yes, well, I can still work," Maarken said. "Losing her rings didn't affect Sioned, after all. But it's a weird sensation all the same." He handed over a green glass bottle of liquid soap. "Anyway, I'm not sure how much you know of where things stand, so I'll tell you all of it. If something comes up that you know more about than I doЧ"
"I'll interrupt as rudely as I ever did." Andry smiled up at him from under a headful of lather.
"As rudely as you just did!" Maarken's right hand suddenly rumpled his soapy hair. "Goddess, Andry, it's good to have you here. Between the Lord of Goddess Keep and the Azhrei, we can't help but win."
"Is that what Pol's calling himself now?" He kept the edge from his voice.
"Reluctantly. The Vellant'im use it all the time. They seem to think he's some kind of evil influence on the dragons, andЧHells, it's going to be hard to get this in order."
"Tell it any way you like, but tell it!"
When Hollis opened the bathroom door, clean clothes folded over her arm, Maarken was still talking and Andry was still in the tub.
"You idiot, get out of there at once! The water must be stone cold."
Both men started. Maarken nearly lost his balance and had to brace himself on the sink to keep from tumbling into the bath. Andry grabbed a washing cloth and spread it strategically.
Hollis snorted and threw a towel in his face. "If you must be so silly, try hiding behind this instead of that little rag. You're made like your brother."