"Dance of the Rings 2 - Ring of Intrigue" - читать интересную книгу автора (Fancher Jane S)It was hard to remember, sometimes, that Mikhyel only
appeared fragile, with that bruised look about his eyes and with features that were so different from his older brother's. There was a steel core to Mikhyel dunMheric; a core tem- pered in a childhood as Mheric Rhomandi's second son, and honed to a fine edge by Anheliaa, Mheric's father's sister, and Ringmaster of Rhomatum. And Mikhyel had met Deymorin head to head in the political arena and won. At least, the result of that long- ago debate had been the event that drove Deymorin out of Rhomatum. He'd make a fierce and dangerous enemy in defense of his idealsif he didn't burn himself out first. She sincerely hoped, for Deymorin's sake as well as Mikhyel's own, that events would not push those ideals beyond his physical limits. Mikhyel's eyes closed, and, with a shiver, he pulled his cloak more tightly about his shoulders, tucking his chin into the folds. After a moment, his eyes lifted and stared unfo- cused down a corridor of walls. Odd eyes. Unique, in her experience. Gray with pale green around the edges. "So, what's he up to?" Kiyrstin asked. A blink, and he as back to her. "Horses," he said flatly, and his mouth tightened into a slight smile. "What else? doesn't know it." Which meant, Deymorin had gotten wet and chilled, and Mikhyel was inheriting that discomfort, absorbing it like a sponge. "You do him no favor, you know," sge said, and Mikhyel laughed, a short, bitter sound. "Believe me, if I could not, I would not. Do me a favor, and take him his damned cloak, would you?" He shivered again and pulled his own cloak up around his ears. "Before / freeze to death." 9 9 8 "Hot poultices on the hock tonight, a bit of salve on the cut to keep it moist, and it should heal without a scar." Deymorin Rhomandi dunMheric, erstwhile Princeps of Rhomatum, stood up and slapped the big roan's rump. "He nicked the coronet, but not, I think, deep enough to affect the hoof growth." He let his hand drift along the curve of solid muscle as he moved behind the draft horse, and gave the cropped tail a gentle tug on the way to his next patient. Not that he could add significantly more than reinforce- ment of decisions already made. For the most part, the drivers were competent horsemen. Heavy-handed whips didn't last long with any reputable hauling company; horses were too expensive to keep along the leys for that invest- |
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