"Jordan, Robert - Wheel of Time 09 - Winter's Heart" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jordan Robert)

the sisters to gain in it? There had to be two sides to a
bargain. Zaida smiled, as if she knew what Elayne was
thinking and was amused. One of the doors opening again was
almost a relief, giving her an excuse to turn away from the
Sea Folk woman.
Reene Harfor slipped into the room with deference but
without servility, and her curtsy was restrained, suitable for
the High Seat of a powerful House to her Queen. But then, any
High Seat worth a pinch of salt knew enough to offer respect
to the First Maid. Her graying hair was arranged in a bun,
like a crown atop her head, and she wore a scarlet tabard over
her red-and-white dress, with the White Lion of AndorТs head
resting on her formidable bosom. Reene had no say in who
would sit on the throne, but she had adopted full formal dress
on the day of ElayneТs arrival, as if the Queen already were
in residence. Her round face hardened momentarily at sight of
the AthaТan Miere women who had bypassed her, but that was all
the notice she gave them. For now. They would learn to their
cost what incurring the animosity of the First Maid entailed.
УMazrim Taim has come at last, my Lady.Ф Reene managed to
make that sound very like Уmy Queen.Ф УShall I tell him to
wait?Ф
Not beforetime! Elayne muttered in her head. She had
summoned the man two days ago! УYes, Mistress Harfor. Give
him wine. The third best, I think. Inform him that I will
see him as soon as IЧУ
Taim strode into the room as though he owned the Palace.
She did not need him named. Blue-And-gold Dragons wove round
the sleeves of his black coat from elbows to cuffs, in
imitation of the Dragons on RandТs arms. Though she suspected
he would not appreciate the observation. He was tall, nearly
as tall as Rand, with a hooked nose and dark eyes like augurs,
a physically powerful man who moved with something of a
WarderТs deadly grace, but shadows seemed to follow him, as if
half the lamps in the room had gone out; not real shadows, but
an air of imminent violence that seemed palpable enough to
soak up light.
Two more black-coated men followed at his heels, a bald
fellow with a long grizzled beard and leering blue eyes, and a
younger man, snake-slim and dark-haired, with the sneering
arrogance young men often adopted before they learned better.
Both wore the silver Sword and red-enameled Dragon on their
tall collars. None of the three wore a sword on his hip,
though; they did not need swords. Suddenly the sitting room
felt smaller, and crowded.
Instinctively, Elayne embraced saidar and reached out to
link. Merilille slipped into the circle easily; astoundingly,
so did Renaile. A quick glance at the Windfinder lessened her
surprise. Her face gray, Renaile was gripping the dagger
thrust behind her sash so hard that Elayne could feel the pain