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

touch her did not mean she was unaware.
Where was Nynaeve? And Vandene? Her thoughts snarled like
the weather. They should be here already! Light! I wish I
could learn to go without sleep, and they take their sweet
time! No, that was unfair. Her formal claim for the Lion
Throne was only a few days old, and for her, everything else
had to take second place for the time being. Nynaeve and
Vandene had other priorities; other responsibilities, as they
saw them. Nynaeve was up to her neck planning with Reanne and
the rest of the Knitting Circle how to spirit Kinswomen out of
Seanchan-controlled lands before they were discovered and
collared. The Kin were very good at staying low, but the
Seanchan would not just pass them by for wilders the way Aes
Sedai always had. Supposedly, Vandene was still shaken by her
sisterТs murder, barely eating and hardly able to give advice
of any sort. The barely eating part was true, but finding the
killer consumed her. Supposedly walking the halls in grief at
odd hours, she was secretly hunting the Darkfriend among them.
Three days earlier, just the thought of that could make Elayne
shiver; now, it was one danger among many. More intimate than
most, true, but only most.
They were doing important tasks, approved and encouraged by
Egwene, but she still wished they would hurry, selfish though
it might be. Vandene had a wealth of good advice, the
advantage of long experience and study, and NynaeveТs years of
dealing with the Village Council and the WomenТs Circle back
in EmondТs Field gave her a keen eye for practical politics,
however much she denied it. Burn me, I have a hundred
problems, some right here in the Palace, and I need them! If
she had her way, Nynaeve alТMeara was going to be the Aes
Sedai advisor to the next Queen of Andor. She needed all the
help she could findЧhelp she could trust.
Smoothing her face, she turned away from the blazing hearth.
Thirteen tall armchairs, carved simply but with a fine hand,
made a horseshoe arc in front of the fireplace.
Paradoxically, the place of honor, where the Queen would sit
if receiving here, stood farthest from the fireТs heat. Such
was it was. Her back began to warm immediately, and her front
to cool. Outside, snow fell, thunder crashed and lightning
flared. Inside her head, too. Calm. A ruler had as much
need of calm as any Aes Sedai.
УIt must be the mercenaries,Ф she said, not quite managing
to keep regret out of her voice. Armsmen from her estates
surely would begin arriving inside a monthЧonce they learned
she was aliveЧbut the men Birgitte was recruiting would
require half a year or more before they were fit to ride and
handle a sword at the same time. УAnd Hunters for the Horn,
if any will sign and swear.Ф There were plenty of both
trapped in Caemlyn by the weather. Too many of both, most
people said, carousing, brawling, troubling women who wanted