"Huff, Tanya - Wizard 1 - Child Of The Grove 1.1 Txt" - читать интересную книгу автора (Huff Tanya)

"Very nearly, sir. "
"I'm sure it wasn't this far before. "
The whiny, self-indulgent voice belonged to a minor official of the court, one Diven of House Tannic. Rael had endured too many hours of petitions to mistake it, even distorted as it was by drink.
The torch-bearer rounded the corner first, followed by an overdressed man leaning heavily on the arm of his body servant. A City Guard, hired as evening's escort, brought up the rear.
Rael kept his horse walking. With luck they would

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be too interested in gaining their beds to pay any attention to him.
Luck was busy elsewhere.
"Awk, Bertram! Brigands!"
Bertram looked to the heavens, exasperation visible even to Rael, and patted his master comfortingly on the shoulder. "It's only a single rider, sir. "
"Oh. So it is. " Any other would have been content to leave it at that. Diven stepped forward, past the torch-bearer and directly into Rael's path. Drink made him determined to erase the embarrassment of his fright. "You there, state your business in this neighborhood. Speak up, or I'll call the patrol. "
Rael reined in. The torch-bearer grinned, obviously looking forward to telling his cronies of how the drunken noble had accosted one of his equally noble neighbors and threatened him with the patrol. Bertram, now up behind his master, was thinking much the same thing, but not with amusement. The guard looked bored.
"Well, boy, do you tell me your business or do I call the patrol. I will, you know, don't think I won't. "
Rael wondered how a voice could whine and be shrill at the same time. He had no doubt the idiot would do exactly as he said, and wake the neighborhood doing it. And that would be the end of the dark and quiet, no mere interruption. He sighed, made his smile as friendly as he was able, and pulled back his hood.
"Highness!"
For a moment the smile held them-they began to return it-then the torchlight flared in his eyes.
The guard saluted and all four men began to back away.
Respectfully, and nervously, they backed away.
From the torch-bearer and the guard, it was almost understandable for they met the prince and heir for the first time. Bertram also; for all he served in a noble house he was not accustomed to facing royalty so

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closely and so informally. But Diven of Tannic saw the prince almost daily. And still he backed away.
Rael held the smile until his horse carried him out of the circle of torchlight. Once he would have said something, tried to find the camaraderie his father seemed to share with every man, woman, and child in the kingdom. Once. But all the words had been said and still the people moved away. Not rejecting, not exactly, but not accepting either.
Let them move if they will, he told himself wearily, replacing his hood. I have enough who stand by me. Then he moved back into the dark and quiet.
At the smaller of the palace gates, he allowed the guard to get a good look at him, and passed unchallenged through the outer wall. Except for a sleepy groom waiting to take his horse, and the men on watch, it appeared the palace slept. It didn't, of course, for within its walls the palace was almost a city in itself and the work needed to keep it running smoothly continued day and night.
He walked quickly across the outer courtyard, slipped in a side door, and began to make his way silently through the maze of stone to the tower where he had his chambers. Once, he froze in shadow and an arguing pair of courtiers passed him by.
At the cross-corridor leading to the king's rooms, Rael noticed the royal standard still posted, the six swords on a field of green hanging limp and still against the wall. His father had not retired for the night. Wide awake himself, Rael turned toward the royal bedchamber, hoping the king would not be too busy to speak with him.
The guards saluted as he approached and moved aside to give him access to the door.
"Is he alone?" asked the prince.
"Aye, sir, he is, " replied the senior of the two.
Rael nodded his thanks and pushed the door open.
"Father?"
The king sat at his desk studying a large map, one

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hand holding down a curling edge, the other buried in his beard.
Rael was thinner than his father, his eyes an unworldly green, but aside from that the resemblance was astounding. Both were handsome men, although neither believed it. They shared the same high forehead over black slashes of brow, the same angular cheeks and proud arch of nose, even the determined set to their jaws and slightly mocking smiles matched. Those who had known the king as a young man said to look at the prince was to look at a piece of the past. The people of Ardhan might wonder at the identity of his mother, and they did, but none could doubt that Rael was the king's son.
Raen looked up as the door opened and his face brightened when he saw who it was.
"Come in, lad, " he called. "And shut the damn door before it blows out my lamp. "
Rael did as he was bid and approached the desk, collapsing with a boneless, adolescent grace into the sturdy chair across from his father. "The Western Border?"
The king nodded. "And you'd best get familiar with it yourself. We march as soon as the armies are assembled. "
Rael leaned forward to study the map. "You're surely not assembling all six provinces here?" He wondered where they'd put everyone. The six dukes and their households jammed the palace to the rafters during seventh year festivals. The six dukes and their armies... !
"No, only Cei and Aliston will come here to Belkar. We'll join with Hale on the march. " He traced their route with a callused finger. "Lorn and Riven meet us on the battlefield. " His mouth twisted. "And it's to be hoped those two hotheads will concentrate on fighting the enemy instead of each other. I'm thankful you've no rival for your lady's hand. " Rael felt his ears redden. "You can keep no secrets in this rabbit warren, lad.

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It's a good match; her father and I both approve. You're lucky I've no need to join you to some foreign princess to tie a treaty. "
"Join?" Rael repeated weakly. He'd barely gotten beyond worshiping from a distance and his father spoke of joinings?
The older man laughed. "You're right, " he mocked, but kindly, "it's bad luck to talk of joining on the eve of war. " He turned again to the map. "And on the eve of war we are; I want the armies on the road in two weeks. "
"In two weeks? Father, it can't be done. " The Elite, the Palace Guard and the Ducal Guards that made up the standing army, yes, and, he supposed, most City Guards could adapt fast enough, but when Rael thought of the chaos involved in turning farmers and craftsmen into soldiers his head ached.