"Robert Don Hughes - Pelman 01 - The Prophet Of Lamath" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hughes Robert Don)

the sky.

Pelman cast a glance over his shoulder at Pezi, and kicked his mount once again, driving it toward the west and the
land of Ngandib-Mar. By the time Pezi reached the open clearing and looked after him, Pelman and the girl were well on
their way into the highland plain of that land. Though he could still see them, they were far away by now-too far and
moving too fast to follow. He looked up and watched the dragon high above him, turning erratic circles in the sky. He
pulled a sword from its scabbard on the horse's saddle and turned to ride back down into the gorge. The line of slaves
still struggled to coordinate a run for safety, and Pezi leveled the tip of his weapon at the back of one slave's head.
"Silence!" he roared, his confident manner restored by the change in the situation. The slaves stopped shoving, and
all turned to look at him. "Now," he said when all was quiet, "we move on to Lamath. It's a long walk. I suggest you
save your breath." The column turned and, under Pezi's watchful eye, began once more to ascend the slope. "Bring the
litter! It's bound to be worth something," Pezi grumbled, but as they carried it past him he ground his teeth together in
anxiety and disgust. He would have some explaining to do to his uncle Flayh. And who would believe the true story?
As he reined his horse in behind the last walker, his mind was hard at work constructing a lie that would absolve him
of guilt. Pezi wasn't good at many things, but he was an accomplished liar. "To the right!" he shouted when the first
man reached the fork. It would indeed be a long way to Lamath.

The banquet hall of Chaomonous was built of yellow marble. When all the tapers were lit, the walls reflected the
favorite color of the golden King; all were burning brightly tonight. But the dinner conversation was subdued this
evening, and the occasional giggle seemed out of place in the near-funereal atmosphere. What conversation there was
subsided when a golden-mailed warrior entered the hall. He walked hesitantly toward the elevated table of the King.
All could tell by the expression on his face that the news he brought wasn't good. No one was surprised when the
King's silver goblet streaked through the room like a meteor; Talith frequently threw things when he was angry. It was
a shock, however, when the object bounced off the distant back wall. No one had seen him that angry before.

"Advisors! To me!" the King shouted, then turned on his heel and stomped off the dais. All over the hall there were
muttered "Pardon's" and "Excuse me's" as the King's experts bade good-bye for the night to their ladies and trotted
toward the doorway on the east side of the room. The King headed for the chamber of his council of war. Plans would
be made tonight that would shape the destiny of the empire.

Ligne, the King's latest mistress, watched him out the door and then reached for his plate. The best piece of meat lay
untouched there, and she took great pleasure in finishing it off. She wished she were privy to the words of the
council-but she had her spies sprinkled through the experts, so she would hear soon enough. Thus far things were
proceeding exactly according to her plan.

As she licked the grease from her delicate fingers she noticed the Queen eyeing her with suspicion. Latithia, the Queen
and mother of the Princess, was out of favor with the King these days. Ligne licked the last of the juice from her hand,
then smiled brightly at the Queen, her blue eyes twinkling. The Queen looked away, and Ligne was pleased to note the
flush of Latithia's cheeks. Those seated near Ligne gave no thought to her smug smile. These days Ligne often smiled
like that.

"They weren't even mounted!" the King was shouting. "A group of slaves on foot! Only two riders! And they
escaped you?" "It was a surprising move, my Lord," the exchequer said softly. "Pezi normally doesn't move his column
until after he has a full complement of slaves. At this time of year he waits for the southern ships to dock, so he may
add spices and fish-satin to his inventory. It will surely be two more weeks until the first of the fleet arrives-" "General
Joss!" "My Lord?" "What of your spies in the trading houses? Why wasn't I informed she was being held in the
house of Ognadzu?" The King's face was very red.

Joss' eyes widened as the King grabbed his sleeve, but that was the only acknowledgment of his fear. He, too, spoke
quietly. "It was a carefully guarded secret, my Lord. It must be admitted that when it comes to keeping secrets, we are