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

"The Vellant'im cannot be too far away. Everyone

knows they left Faolain Lowland long agoЧand Swale-keep is a rich prize."

"Meadowlord is uninvolved in this war."

"Officially, yes," he replied. "But Princess Chiana has been sending aid downriver as often as she can." Through his efforts, much of that aid in foodstuffs was tainted or rotten. He knew who was meant to receive it. He hoped Chiana's allies were growing angry with her for cheating them.

"If they know she's been helping," he went on, "I fear for our lives."

"Yours, perhaps," Aurar said. "You're Pol's creature. But I am my father's daughter, and they will recognize my name." She smiled sweetly. "Who knows but that I might be able to save Swalekeep and all Meadowlord?"

Rialt bowed to hide the disgust in his eyes. "My lady ... I ask nothing for myself. But my wife, my sonЧ"

"I'll consider it. Ah, here's my horse."

"Allow me to help you to mount, my lady."

As he did so, boosting her lightly up into the saddle, the dark green cloak wrapped to her throat fell loose. She bent over to accept the reins from her groom and something bright and silvery on a long chain swung free.

Rialt grabbed for it. "CarefulЧit might catch on the pommel and break the chain, my lady."

Aurar took the pendant back calmly and tucked it into her tunic. Clattering out of the stableyard on a big Kadar Water gelding, she made a pretty picture with the sunlight gleaming on her auburn hair.

Rialt frowned, thinking about the little pendant on the chain. Why would Aurar of Catha Heights be wearing a symbol associated with the Desert rulers she loathed? What significance was there for her in a dragon?

The empty inkwell gave him the excuse he needed to abandon his projectЧwhich had been an excuse in itselfЧand return to his chamber. By the time he got there, he'd puzzled it out. Shutting the door and leaning back against it, he waited for his wife to glance up from mending their son's shirts.

"I know what it means."

"What what means?"

"Aurar goes out riding. She leaves her groom behind, disappears Goddess knows where. But she always rides southЧwhere the Vellant'im are. She comes back, she bathes, she goes to Chiana or Rinhoel for a private talk. The next day she rides again. And the dragon token she wears around her neck is her passage through enemy lines."

Mevita was nodding slowly. "And the one Polev keeps after Rinhoel to give him appeared after that strange visitor came and went. If we're to get a message safely to Prince Tilal, someone will have to steal Rinhoel's dragon."

*

Pol hadn't been back to Feruche since learning what had transpired at the old castle thereЧthe castle where Rohan and Sioned had been lanthe's captives, the castle of his own birth, the castle Sioned had destroyed with Fire. Some sort of fortress had always stood guard over the pass between Princemarch and the northern Desert. Sorin had rebuilt on the same site, fashioning a keep made equally for defense and splendor. The new Feruche looked nothing like the drawings Pol had seen of the old. Yet Rohan had refused to set foot in it, and on his rare visits stayed in the garrison down below. At the time, Pol had thought it rather oddЧhe would never have permitted himself to use the word "foolish" in reference to his father. When he knew the whole story, he had understood. Now, approaching the tall towers, he shared Rohan's reluctance.

And didn't hesitate to call it foolishness. Skybowl was incapable of supporting so many. FerucheЧhuge in and of itself, and with the garrison able to house half an army outside the wallsЧwas his only choice.

The stout wooden gates opened to him and his. They revealed Sorin's intent here: power and beauty woven together as gracefully as an accomplished Sunrunner wove light. The gates were two hands' spans thick and

braced with heavy wrought iron, yet the wood was polished to a golden glow and the iron was patterned as delicately as a lace veil. Dragon's Rest had been designed to convey a different kind of power, and found its strength in its position in a bottlenecked valley. No one had ever called Stronghold beautiful, built as it had been for war and acquiring comforts only at his grandmother Milar's insistence. But Feruche was as close to perfection as a castle could be. It wasn't Sorin's fault that Pol's nape itched at the sight of it.

The wide circular courtyard filled rapidly behind him. He dismounted, tossed his reins to a groom, and waited for Meiglan and the girls to join him before starting up the steps to the keep. Ruala was already at the main doors, conferring with her steward. All that was required of Pol was that he go upstairs, bathe away two days of travel, and show up in the hall for dinner at dusk. Chayla and Hollis were overseeing the settlement of the wounded; Maarken was down at the garrison organizing the able-bodied troops; Isriam was practicing patience by shepherding the Dorvali merchants; Meath was taking care of Sioned.

Pol found himself necessary to only three people: his wife and his daughters. And after the last terrible days, they deserved his attention.