"Clayton Emery - Lost Empires 03 - Star of Cursrah" - читать интересную книгу автора (Emery Clayton)

"reconnoiter" nor "annex."
"Don't babble, Amenstar. Your parrots speak too, but no one seeks their advice." The sama closed
her eyes and added, "Don't diverge from the subject, please. You must not slip out of the compound
again. It's simply too dangerous in these troubled timesтАФ"
"Times are always troubled," Star sighed.
An acolyte shuffled up with a message from the bakkal, who had also recently begun his "day."
With a shaved head and brown robes bundled to her chin, speaking in a habitual whisper, the acolyte
resembled a hairy-legged spider. Star looked away in disgust. These adherents of death seemed three-
quarters dead themselves. As night settled, vizars crawled from their dens like bats or jackals or
vampires.
Glancing at the slate palette, the sama agreed to come, after blowing one last frosty blast at her
wayward daughter. "Amenstar," she said, "your abysmal naivete regarding our border crisis reveals
dangerous gaps in your education. Your father and I have laid plans to rectify your ignorance. Remain
here. I'll send tutors to clarify your perception of the worldтАФand your place and duties in it. Do you
understand?"
"Yes, Mother," Star said quietly. Agreeing put the quickest end to the harangue.
"I wonder if that's true," the sama sighed. "Oftimes I wish Tunkeb were the eldest samira. She
strives for obedience." Turning a tubby circle, the sama swept out, trailed by eight maids and four
standard-bearers.
"Tunkeb is a kisser of warty, hairy bottoms," Star muttered.
Behind, an empty-headed maid giggled, but when Star turned, they all stared stone-faced. The
princess wondered which honey-tongued traitor had squealed about Star ditching her guards and
fleeing the royal compound. Servants were notorious for carrying whispers, plotting lies, and betraying
anyone in order to inch up the social ladder. Star trusted none of the fawning fools and sensed their
smug glee at her being grounded.
Clapping her hands, Amenstar barked, "All of you, begone! I wish to nap." The maids chirped in
surprise. Usually, two maids watched the samira sleep.
One objected, "B-but, your highness, th-the most high sama sends tutorsтАФ"
Another clap made them jump. Star pronounced, "I determine what I learn and when, you fox-faced
doxy. Now get out!"
 Still the maids hesitated, twittering like birds. Furious, Star reached for the nearest object, a china
vase that some artisan had labored a year to glaze. Unmindful if she hit anyone, the royal daughter
lobbed it hard. Maids ducked, and the vase shattered on the wall. At the noise, two guards bearing
lyre-spears ran to the doorway.
Star shrilled, "Leave me! I command it! Leave me, or I'll loose the cat on you."
The maids shrieked, disliking the ocelot, who licked its teeth. Chittering, the servants scampered
out the double doors, and Star slammed them in the faces of the guards. Huffing, the princess regarded
her luxurious prison. Even nine huge rooms seemed cramped after the freedom of the city streets. She
asked herself, "Well? Shall I languish here like the Trapped Terrors or follow my own advice and
learn more about the commoners I'll someday rule?"
For months now, as she approached sixteen, the princess's life grew more and more constricted.
Lessons were piled on until Star smothered, and more demands were made each day. The upshot of
every instruction and the moral of every story was the same: serve the kingdom, don your destiny,
assume your responsibilitiesтАФuntil Amenstar felt crushed under invisible burdens. Loose on the
streets, she had none.
"Mother's lessons will wait," the princess concluded. "I'll learn more outside the walls than within."
Striding to a lacquered armoire thirty feet long, Star flung open gold-handled doors to whiffs of
cedar. Catching her shift at the neck, Star tore the gauzy film off. She never wore the same garment
twice. Picking through a dizzying array of new clothes, she donned a loose cotton blouse hand-painted
with bright flowers, and double-wrapped trousers tied at the waist. Braided sandals, a head veil of silk,