"Janrae Frank - Journey of Sacred King 1 - My Sister's Keeper" - читать интересную книгу автора (Frank Janrae)

yet firmly. She shook her head at him. Brendorn sighed and stepped back. Cassana
took her niece by the shoulders, gave her a small shake. "If you don't stop this," she
said severely, "you can spend the rest of the day standing in the Hall while we take
care of business. You understand?"

Tamlestari sobered instantly, her eyes dropped, her cheeks grew warm. "I'm sorry,
Amita Sana. On my honor, I won't do it again."

"I know you won't," Cassana replied, giving her a hug.

Brendorn stood back, dropping his eyes, and shaking his head at the mercurial
young hoyden's sudden change from irritatingly playful to sober and restrained. She
had trained heavily as a battlefield chirurgeon during her days in the temple preparing
to become ha'taren, one of the consecrated paladins of the God Aroana the
Compassionate Defender. Yet, even after her consecration and a series of skirmishes
along the border, the young mon remained as unpredictable, headstrong and
changeable as ever, childishly playful and impulsive one moment and then mature
beyond her years the next. He sighed, reminding himself to be grateful that his own
daughter Laeoli had turned out so calm and steady.
 He realized suddenly that he had begun to tremble uncontrollably and leaned against
the wall to conceal it. Fear that she would simply send them away alternated with a
dream vision of finding her in his arms again. He had never been a warrior; never
been more than a simple gardener, cherishing his flowers and fruits and he
remembered how after coming back from a patrol or fighting she had always looked
so happy to just be with him in his gardens тАУ how serene those moments had been
and how much he cherished them. And their passion in the night тАУ no, he dared not
go down that path until he had seen her; he wanted it too desperately, felt too
overwhelmed by need for her.

Aejys, Brendorn murmured silently to himself, maybe we'll finally know why you ran
away from us... O! Lord of Woodlands! Please let her say yes. Let her come home
again. Life is so empty without her.

****

That morning the syndics had come again to petition Aejys Rowan to take the helm
of their city because they quite simply did not believe anyone else could handle it.
Most of their problems came from outside the city, from the monster haunted
wilderness and from monstrous men who preyed on their shipping, raided their city
during the spring months and took toll of the caravans and various folks on the
highroads. The walls were in disrepair and the guardsmyn who walked them
understaffed, under-trained, and poorly led. They could have hired kandoyarin out
of Ocealay to the south, mercenaries such as those commanded by Johannes
Redbeard, but feared that would be like asking the cat to dine with the mice.

The syndics knew all of the rumors that clung to Aejys Rowan like a spider-web
cloak. She was a lapsed paladin who had drifted far from her faith and her people:
that much they knew for certain. By most accounts she was a maverick Sharani heir
who had renounced her place in the aristocracy by telling her queen and family to go
swim in the midden pond over some trifling matter. Some said Aejys had actually