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

Arlis' little brother was very good at war. They both knew it; now Saumer had just said so aloud.

He leaned over the bed and put a hand on Rihani's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"But it's true," he rasped. "I'm no good at this. I never will be."

"No good? You've killed at least as many Vellant'im as I have, and probably more that you don't even remember with the heat of battle-blood in you."

"So what?" Rihani asked wearily. "I'm frightened when it begins, I'm frightened while it happens, I'm frightened when it's over. I know you're scared, too. Everybody is. But the fire doesn't strengthen me the way it does you, Saumer. It burns me alive. I do what I have to, I kill very nicely, thank you Ч but when it's all over, all I want to do is curl in a corner somewhere and throw up."

"I did," Saumer admitted frankly. "The first battle after we left High Kirat. I thought my stomach would turn inside out."

"Has it happened since?" Rihani shook his head. "You're used to it by now. I'm not." He hesitated, and decided against adding, And I don't ever want to be. Sliding down into sheets damp with fever-sweat, he closed his eyes. "I'll do as you say. I'll go to Aunt Danladi and give what comfort I can. Lead Syr's armies. Much better you than I."

*

Skybowl, though not exactly transformed overnight, was not the quiet and well-ordered keep Pol remembered. A small village of makeshift tents and shelters had been erected along the lakeshore.

"They look comfortable enough," he observed to Ka-zander as they paused on the crater's crest.

"More so if they'd built on the leeside, my prince," the young man replied.

"There isn't one. Wind circles here like wine swirled in a cup, and in any direction it pleases." He looked over his shoulder at the Desert spread out below, then back down to the perfect roundness of the lake. Here, the night after his birth, he had been NamedЧthe night

Roelstra died beneath Sioned's woven dome of starfire, Rohan's sword in his throat. The sword Pol now carried.

Abruptly his head lifted, at the same instant as Maarken's. A familiar quiver stroked the edge of his senses, skittered around his mind.

Dragons.

They darkened the sky a moment later, nine of them, casting shadows with their wings. Azhdeen flew point, bellowing what amounted to an announcement of his royal presence and a summons into it. Pol slid from the saddle, knees nearly buckling with weariness, and scrambled across the rough stones. His dragon landed neatly on an outcropping of rock and growled his usual permission to come closer.

"Come to make sure I'm still in one piece?" Pol asked, starting forward. "I see you've brought company this time."

In fact, six human-owning dragons had come to Skybowl this afternoon. Abisel poised nearby, humming a welcome at Hollis. She dismounted quickly and ran toward the dragon, her tawny gold hair shining like a beacon against outspread wings. Maarken had withdrawn a little way, waiting politely for the gorgeous black-and-silver Pavisel to refresh herself at the lake. Pol recognized Sadalian, Riyan's dragon, by his black underwings as he rose on an updraft; red-gold Azhly flew over the castle, calling out to Ruala. Pol's heart ached a little as he saw Morwenna's Elidi turn abruptly on a wingtip and start back along the line of people trudging up the road to the crater's lip. The one she looked for, she would not find.

The three other dragonsЧa young blue-black female and two reddish malesЧcircled overhead, bleating for notice. Azhdeen lifted his head and roared. They beat nervous wings, then landed on the shore a respectful distance from their elders to assuage the thirst of the long flight from the Catha Hills.

"Who are your friends? Did you bring them for a reason, or were they just curious?" Pol rubbed the delicate hide around the dragon's nostrils, and was rewarded with

a gusting sigh of pleasure. "Should I be flattered that you're so worried about me, or is it just that you've come to guard your property?" He stroked the sinuous neck, smiling. "Ah, I knowЧyou've come in the hope that I'll provide you with an army of humans to bow down to you again."

A new voice called out from high overhead. Pol glanced up and saw a little russet dragon glide over the crater to settle not fifty paces from Sioned. Elisel was twenty-one winters old, slow now on easily wearied wings. Her hide had lost some of its suppleness, and her gold underwings some of their luster, her eyes some of their sharpness. Pol watched, hardly breathing, as Elisel stretched out her long neck and crooned. Perhaps the dragon could do what humans could not. Perhaps Sioned would respond to her.

Azhdeen rumbled impatiently, drawing Pol's full attention again. "What is it, my friend? If there's something you want to tell me, please do it gently. I'm not as young as I was a few days ago."

He felt the gathering of colors that flickered just out of his reach. Dragons were usually very careful after the first time of contact that left their fragile humans stunned unconscious by their power. Pol relaxed into the beginnings of communionЧonly to be thrust out of it by the cry of another dragon.

His head spun and he leaned heavily against Azhdeen's neck. "Goddess," he choked, "what happened?" The support was suddenly gone, and he stumbled into a thick shoulder, then down onto the ground.