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

that this man, though so obviously a Merida, was too old to be one of Miyon's bastard sons.

Pol regarded them almost pleasantly. "Which of you is Ezanto?"

One inclined his head. Tallain guessed him to be about twenty-five, though the years were hard to judge. It wasn't the sweat and dirt, nor even the blood smearing his face from a sword cut in his scalp; it was the bitter pride that aged him. "Zanyr?"

A second man gave a start. Alone of them, his eyes showed not rage but fear. It made him look very young. "You are Duroth, then?" Pol said, and the third young man, tall and lanky and with the look of his father stamped on his features, acknowledged his name with a sardonically arched brow.

Pol turned his attention to the fourth. "Which means I am meant to believe you are BiriocЧyou with your Merida scar." He hooked a casual knee around the pommel of his saddle and leaned an elbow on his thigh. "Well, well," he murmured. "Where is he, I wonder? Where is Birioc to complete my collection of Miyon's bastard sons?"

"Say rather where is the bastard daughter," the older man snapped. "Your wife!"

Kazander's young kinsman, Visian, prodded him sharply in the back. "You will speak of her grace with respect or not at all!"

Pol's smile didn't waver a fraction. "Oh, I know where my wife is. At Feruche, with my own daughtersЧone of whom is now Princess of Cunaxa. Depending on which of them wants it. But we can settle all that later, when they're grown." He turned his smile on Tallain. "Until that time, Cunaxa is yours, my Lord Regent."

"My prince," Tallain murmured, bending his head in acceptance. But he had never wanted anything from these people except that they leave his lands alone. Fighting had been their idea, not his.

"Miyon still lives," the Merida pointed out. "He is Prince of CunaxaЧ"

"Чand he is my father!" Ezanto blurted.

"You have my sympathies," Pol told him. He began removing his gloves, finger by finger. "I haven't endured him at close quarters as long as you have, of course, but I think we can agree that knowing him has not enhanced our lives. Being his son-by-marriage is trial enough. I can imagine what it must be like being his son by blood. Never knowing what, if anything, will be your lot after his death. Never sure which of you is in favor to become prince after him. But, my lordsЧI'll give you that much, as you are prince's sonsЧmy lords, I have solved your problems."

He held up his left hand so they could see the great topaz-and-emerald ring glistening in the noon sun. Beside it was the amethyst-and-topaz of Princemarch, dark and glowering.

"It is the responsibility of the High Prince to make a final decision on matters of princely importance. My lords, you are looking at the High Prince."

All four flinched to varying degrees. The Merida sucked in a breath after the initial shock, and Tallain thought him close to a shout of sheer joy. If he released it, Tallain knew his sword would claim one more life today.

"RohanЧdead?" the Merida whispered. His eyes kindled, but only briefly. Tallain's fingers relaxed.

Pol acted as if he had not heard. "Miyon is deposed. Cunaxa is now mine." He smiled once more, a mere stretching of his lips. "This is the will of the High Prince."

Tallain set his face in flint. Pol had no right to take Cunaxa this way. They all knew it. No one spoke. A glance at Riyan showed him the same stony refusal to reveal his thoughtsЧbut those thoughts were clearly carved in bone and muscle just the same.

Pol was speaking again. "My Lord Kazander, be so good as to tie the three of them to horses. We'll take them back to Feruche with us. And you may see to the others now."

"At once, my prince." The korrus bowed and sprang eagerly from his saddle.

Pol sat straighter. "You. Merida." Long fingers rubbed lightly at the single Sunrunner's ringЧgold, on the right middle finger, set with the moonstone that had been Andrade's. "Stand over there."

Riyan didn't speak; Tallain couldn't. His family had fought the Merida for generations; everyone in the Northern Desert had. He had killed at least a score of them through his years of holding Tiglath. He had killed many more at Tuath, and here at Zagroy's Pillar.

But no Merida had ever died like this. A sudden circle of Sunrunner's Fire sprang up around him, arched into a searing cage. He panicked and made the mistake of trying to escape it. His clothes and hair and flesh caught. There was one scream, and then silence.

Tallain knewЧin a remote, impersonal wayЧwhy Pol had done it. He was the High Prince. The Sunrunner High Prince. The oath he'd never sworn had not been violated. The Merida's own fear had been his death. Had he not touched the Fire, he would still be alive.

Pol let his right hand fall to his side. The flames were gone. "Tallain, how much rest will your Tiglathis need? What I mean is, can you ride this afternoon to chase down Birioc?"