"Feist, Raymond E & Wurts, Janny - The Empire Trilogy 03 - Mistress of the Empire" - читать интересную книгу автора (Feist Raymond E)

The fingers that had reached out to a trusted foster father to
stave off the horror of the dark lay empty, open, the scabbed
remains of a blister on one thumb a last testimony to diligent
practice with a wooden sword. This boy would never know
the honors or the horrors of a battle, or the sweet kiss of
his first maid, or the pride and responsibility of the Lord's
mantle that had been destined one day to be his.

The finality of sudden ending left pain like a bleeding
wound. Hokanu knew grief and stunned disbelief. His mind
worked through the shock only out of reflex trained on the
fields of war. 'Cover the child with your shield,' he ordered.
'His mother must not see him like this.'

But the words left numbed lips too late. Mara had rushed
after him, end he felt the flurry of her silken robes against
his calf as she flung herself on her knees by her son. She
reached out to embrace him, to raise him up from the
dusty ground as if through sheer force of love she could
restore him to life. But her hands froze in the air over the
bloody rags of flesh that had been Ayaki's body. Her mouth
opened without sound. Something crumpled inside her. On
instinct, Hokanu caught her back and bundled her against
his shoulder.

'He's gone to the Red God's halls,' he murmured. Mara
did not respond; Hokanu felt the rapid beat of her heart
under his hands. Only belatedly did he notice the scuffle in
the brush beside the trail. Mara's honor guard had thrown
themselves with a vengeance upon the black clothed body
of the assassin. Before Hokanu could gather the wits to
order restraint - for, alive, the man might be made to say
which enemy had hired him - the warriors made an end
of the issue.

Their swords rose and fell, bright red. In seconds Ayaki's
killer lay hacked like a needra bullock slaughtered in a
butcher's stall.

Hokanu felt pity for the man. Through the blood, he

Tragedy

17

noted the short black shirt and trousers, the red-dyed hands,
as the soldiers turned the body over. The headcloth that
hid all but the eyes of the man, was pulled aside to reveal
a blue tattoo upon the left cheek. This mark would only