"Terry Goodkind - Sword of Truth 4 - Temple of the Winds" - читать интересную книгу автора (Goodkind Terry)

"Well," he said in an offhanded manner as he exhaled, "I had designs on using
my sword, or if I must, my knife." His smile returned, but it was no longer
boyish. His eyes had taken on a steely set that belied his young face. "That's
why I need them back, you see."
"You'll not be getting your weapons back."
Disdain powered the dismissive shrug of his shoulders. "No matter. I have
other ways to kill him."
"You'll not be killing Richard; you have my word on that. Your only hope, now,
is to cooperate and tell us everything of your plan. How did you get in here?"
His smirk mocked her. "Walked. Walked right in. No one paid me any mind.
They're not too smart, your men."
"They're smart enough to have you under their swords," Cara pointed out.
He ignored her. His eyes remained locked on Kahlan's.
"And if we don't let you have your sword and knife back," she asked, "then
what?"
"Then things will get messy. Richard Rahl will only suffer greatly. That's why
Emperor Jagang sent me: to offer him the mercy of a quick death. The emperor
is a man of compassion, and wishes to avoid any undue suffering; he is
basically a man of peace, the dream walker, but also one of iron
determination.
"I'm afraid I'll have to be killing you, too, Mother Confessor: to spare you
the suffering of what's to come if you resist. I have to admit, though, that I
don't like the idea of killing such a beautiful woman." The grin widened.
"Rather a waste."
Kahlan found his confidence grating. To hear him claim that the dream walker
was compassionate turned her stomach. She knew better.
"What suffering?"
He spread his hands. "I am but a grain of sand. The emperor does not share his
plans with me. I am but simply sent to do his bidding. His bidding is that you
and Richard are to be eliminated. If you don't let me kill him mercifully,
then Richard will be destroyed. I'm told that it won't be pleasant, so why
don't you just let me get it over with?"
22
"You must be dreaming," Cara said.
His gaze shifted to the Mord-Sith. "Dreaming? Maybe you're dreaming. Maybe
I'm your worst nightmare."
"I don't have nightmares," Cara said. "I give them."
"Really?" he taunted. "In that ridiculous outfit? What are you pretending to
be, anyway? Maybe you're dressed like that to scare the birds away from the
spring planting?"
Kahlan realized that the man didn't know what a Mord-Sith was, but she
wondered how she could ever have thought he looked hardly more than a boy; his
demeanor was one of age and experience. This was no boy. The air crackled with
peril. Remarkably, Cara only smiled.
Kahlan's breathing stilled when she realized the man was standing, and she
couldn't recall seeing him come to his feet.
His gaze shifted, and one of the lamps went dark. The remaining lamp cast
harsh, flickering light against one side of his face, letting the other side
hide in shadow, but, for Kahlan, that act had brought his nature, his true
threat, out of the shadows.