"Simon Hawke - Dark Sun - Tribe of One 03 - The Nomad" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hawke Simon)

power of the Shadow King.
She had never learned how she was chosen. Nibenay had magic, and it was said he could see
everywhere. Perhaps he had seen her in a scrying crystal while she was preparing for bed, and she had
caught his fancy. Perhaps one of his other wives had caught a glimpse of her while she was on her errands
in the city and had chosen her to join the harem. She was never told, and she had soon learned not to ask.
The wives were only told what they were meant to know. "You do not yet know enough to ask questions,"
she was informed by the senior templars, who had trained her. "And when you know enough, you will have
no need to ask."
She was only twelve years old when she came to live in the palace. The marriage ceremony was
performed the day after she arrived. She had her hair shaved, was washed and bathed with fragrant oils,
then was dressed in a plain white robe. A small gold circlet was placed around her head. Afterward, she
was conducted to a large central chamber in the palace, where the king's throne stood. All of the king's
wives were present, dressed in their white robes and lining both sides of the throne room. They ranged in
age from young and fresh-faced girls to old and wrinkled women.
Veela had felt a sense of mounting excitement and anxiety. She had never seen the Shadow King
before ... nor, as it turned out, was she to see him on her wedding day. The throne remained empty as the
senior templar conducted the solemn marriage ceremony. It was brief and incorporated the vows she had to
take as a templar of the Shadow King. When it was over, each of the wives came up and kissed her lightly
on both cheeks. She was married, and the king had not even been present at his own wedding.
It was five more years before she actually laid eyes on him. In those five years, she had completed
her training as a templar. On the night of her official instatement into the templar ranks, the sorcerer-king
had sent for her. She was once more bathed and scented with fragrant oils and perfumes, and this time all
of the hair on her body was removed. Then she was conducted to the bedchamber of the Shadow King.
She had not known what to expect. She had lived in the palace for five years and never even caught a
glimpse of him, nor had she been able to discuss him with any of the other wives. His name was never
mentioned, save in official orders. As she was brought into his bedchamber, she found him waiting for her.
She stood with downcast eyes for a long while after the attendants left. Finally, she risked raising them. He
simply stood there, looking at her.
He was a tall man, standing well over six feet, and gaunt, with deeply sunken features. He was
completely bald, and his nose was hooked like that of a predatory bird. His neck and arms seemed
unusually long and thin, and his fingers were like talons. His brow was so pronounced that it appeared to be
a ridge over his eyes, which were a strange, light golden hue. He had said nothing, but merely held out a
clawlike hand toward her. A quick gesture with his skeletal fingers and her robe simply fell away, leaving
her naked. Then he beckoned her to the bed.
Whatever she might have expected, it was nothing like what she might have imagined. The room
suddenly went dark, so dark she could not even see her hand before her face. She felt him get onto the
huge bed and then his naked body seemed to slither on top of her. There were no kisses, no caresses, no
tender words exchanged. It was over almost as soon as it had begun. He took her, grunted with
satisfaction, though whether it was satisfaction in the act or in the confirmation of her virginity, she could
not tell, and then the next thing she knew, the braziers erupted into flame, flooding the room with light, and
he was gone. And she did not see him again for ten more years.
Now, it was sixty years since she had first been brought to the palace. She was now among the senior
templars, though she was still among the youngest of them. The years had changed her. The power of the
Shadow King kept her vital, but her face was lined with age now, and her hands were old and wrinkled.
Her flesh sagged, and her skin had become as fine as parchment. But for Nibenay, those years had
wrought greater changes still. However, it was not age that had changed him, for the Shadow King was
already old when Veela had been born. It was the metamorphosis.
As one of the senior templars who attended to him personally, she saw him more often now than all
those years ago. And he was no longer human. He was even taller now, though much of his height came
from his long, scaly and reptilian neck. His browridge had become much more pronounced, extending like a