"Rawn, Melanie - Dragon Star 2 - Dragon Token" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dragon Stories)

"It's the least I can do. IЧ" She broke off and swayed

a little on her feet as if exhaustion had finally overcome her.

"My lady!" Master Tormichin exclaimed, and rose to lend her a large, square hand in support. She righted herself, leaning on his arm. "There, better now? You've been doing much too much," he scolded. "Let someone else worry about that idiot Nemthe for you."

"I must speak to him right away." She drew away from him, leaving one hand delicately on his arm. "I haven't time for a silly faintЧ"

"Then allow me to accompany you, my lady," he offered.

"Would you?" Turning the full force of her eyes on him, she made a mental note to tell Chay that whenever he had dealings with this man in the future, he should send a pretty woman.

Tormichin gallantly escorted her inside, past the ornately framed mirror that had belonged to Riyan's mother, and to the stairs. He chatted about this and that, working in a compliment or two for the color of her eyesЧ"Green as the pearl coves at twilight, and concealing even sweeter treasure." When they reached Nemthe's chamber, Tormichin pounded a fist on the door.

"Open up! The Lady Ruala is honoring you with a visit!"

Nemthe appeared at once, scowling, ink stains on his fingers confirming her guess about his obsession. Dark eyes glared suspiciously at Tormichin, though he bowed politely enough to Ruala.

"My lady. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

She walked into the roomЧthis was her castle, after allЧand turned to face him, hands clasped before her. "I've come to ask you to reconsider, Master Nemthe. There are so many people coming from StrongholdЧ"

"Impossible, my lady. Look at thisЧthis closet!" He waved an arm to indicate the accommodationsЧtwo beds, four rolled-up pallets on the floor, a table, two chairs, and three narrow windows overlooking the lake. "It's outrage enough that my wife and daughters have no privacy, but to have my apprentices in here with usЧ

apprentices, mind you, who used to sleep in the kitchenЧ" He snorted. "As if I was no better than an apprentice myself, crammed in here and compelled to eat from the common stewpot!"

"I'm sorry for that," Ruala murmured, meaning itЧ though not in the way Nemthe interpreted. Skybowl's cook was increasingly distraught as his stores dwindled with so many mouths to feed and more coming. She had sent to Elktrap, but it would be days before supplies arrived.

"Our friends from Dorval are very important to usЧ" she went on, then stopped as if fearing she'd said something offensive. Nothing could have been further from the truth. These silk merchants knew full well the value of their goods and their good will. Ruala bit back an untimely giggle as Nemthe almost preened, and added hastily, "For friendship's sake alone, my lord husband and I are pleased to offer our keep for your comfortЧ even though it's so small. . . ." "Yes," Nethme said frankly. "It is." Tormichin's jaw had dropped long since. Now he picked it up and drew breath to do battle. Ruala gave a helpless sigh and sank down in the nearest chair, preparing to watch the old man do the rest of her work for her. "Do you mean to tell me, you ungrateful swine, that you refuse to move your lazy carcass out of this room? How dare you! After the gracious kindness shown you by this sweet lady, the welcome she gave usЧ"

"What could she doЧturn us away?" Nemthe asked bluntly. "Here I am and here I remain! I won't give over to a passel of common soldiers who lost a fight they should have won! Do you expect my wife and daughters to sleep in the stables or the caves at Threadsilver? They've suffered enough!" Ruala made note of the cave idea. Tormichin was so angry his fringe of white hair seemed to bristle. "You selfish, thievingЧwhat do you know about suffering? And how dare you try to cheat those brave, woundedЧ" "Give up your own snug tower room, then! And how

dare you accuse me of theft! Feeble-minded old whoresonЧ"

Ruala almost shook her head in amazement. How either of them could imagine the wounded climbing up all these stairs was beyond her.

Present animosity had been forgotten in favor of old grievances. Tormichin snarled, "Thief! I know damned well you switched that figured blue silk of mine for your own inferior goods in 722, and then passed off mine as your own!"

"A lie! And don't think I don't know who was responsible for that leak in my warehouse roof in 728! A hundred bolts of my finest, ruined beyondЧ"

"Oh, please!" Ruala exclaimed, jumping to her feet. Belatedly recalling her chosen role, she gripped the back of the chair as if to keep herself upright and said, "Master Nemthe, Master Tormichin, they'll be here by tomorrow morning! What am I to do?"

"With this room, nothing," Nemthe snapped, then remembered to whom he spoke and tacked on a quick, "Чmy lady."

Tormichin advanced on him, looking nothing like a grandfather now. Ruala considered him a splendid model for a stained glass of the Storm God.

"You conniving filth, you'll leave this room if I have to carry you out of it myself! And your whining wife and three ugly daughters along with you!"

Nemthe sucked in a breath. Ruala said swiftly, "I'm sure Lord Maarken will be most grateful if you would give up your room to him, Master Nemthe."