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

tion to flout its parents' teachings and authority. Look at that idiot Ludhil, disobeying Chadric by chasing around their island being a soldier! What a miserable world it is that makes scholars saddle up for war."

"From what Meath says he's seen, Prince Ludhil isn't doing too badly even though war isn't what he was trained for."

"But Pol was trained to be High Prince," Chay repeated.

Beth was quiet for a few moments. "All he's known is the power of it, until now."

Chay grunted. "He and Rohan were barely on speaking terms half the autumn over power and its uses. Well, Pol has all the power now and he can do as he pleases with it."

"But it's so much easier to oppose a parent's decisions than to decide on one's own. Pol's the authority now."

"And he's using it with all the obnoxious arrogance of a man who's scared to death. I saw his face when my other son was mentioned. I only wishЧ" he began incautiously, and glanced away from her gentle face.

"It's all right," she murmured. "I wish Sorin were here, too."

"He was the link between Andry and Pol," Chay mused. "He loved them both, and they him. Goddess, if he were only aliveЧ"

"They'd tear his heart out," Beth replied quietly. "The way they'll tear Maarken's."

Slumping farther into the chair, he propped an elbow on its arm and leaned his chin in his hand. "I shouldn't say this, either, but fond as I am of Ruala, seeing you at the high table tonight I couldn't help but thinkЧ"

She shook her head fiercely. "I know Meiglan meant well, but I wish she hadn't done it."

"You would have graced Feruche as you have graced our lives at Radzyn," Chay said with great tenderness. "You are my daughter no less than Hollis is. Sorin would have been a fool not to have loved you."

*

The suite designed for the High Prince was Pol's now, but the chambers allotted Sioned were nearly as sumptuous. It was the place Pol had stayed the last time he'd been here, during the days they'd mourned Sorin.

An airy solar with two walls of windows was flanked by two bedrooms. All was hung with bright tapestries, furnished in carved woods, decorated with elegant or useful or amusing trinkets. Pol waited in the solar for Meath to inform Sioned of his presence. It was late, and he knew that if she slept, he shouldn't disturb her. But he needed to talk. He needed his motherЧbut he also needed the Sunrunner High Princess.

A tapestry depicting the Rialla when it had been held near Waes covered the western wall. He didn't remember it from his previous visit; it must have been one of the things Sorin ordered but had not lived to see. Gazing at its bright chaos, the colored tents scattered around the river and the bridge leading to the Fair, Pol wondered if anyone would ever see the like again.

Meath returned, leaving the door to Sioned's room open. "She says you ought to be in bed."

"So should we all." He didn't comment on the fact that there was a cot set up in here, near the fire. Meath had obviously disdained the second bedroom, choosing instead to sleep where and as a guard would sleep. Pol's gratitude was coupled with a kind of amused tenderness. There were no enemies at Feruche, no danger at all, yet Meath would keep anyone from getting in. Or perhaps, the thought occurred to him, perhaps he would keep Sioned from getting out. "I won't stay. I just wanted to tell her that the Dorvali will be leaving soon."

"We'll need the space. Riyan will be back with his troops once he and Tallain crush those northern vermin."

"Meath! You sound Desert-born and bred!"

The Sunrunner's smile took twenty years from his face. "Thank you, my prince."

Entering his mother's room, he heard Meath close the door behind him and appreciated the privacy. Sioned sat at an oblong table beside night-blackened windows that reflected the candle branches at the bedside. She didn't

turn at the sound of his soft footsteps on the rug. Light spilled along her shoulders and back, picking out the swirls of the lace shawl she wore over her bedgown, shining on her shorn hair. He realized suddenly that he'd avoided looking at her because of it: almost impossible to connect his mother, the High Princess Sioned, with the sight of that cropped, curling hair.

She lifted a languid hand and waved him closer, still not looking around. "Come have something to drink. You look like you can use it."