"Robert Jordan - Dragonmount" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jordan Robert)

have a guest. Ilyena, where are you?"
The black-clad man's eyes widened, darted to the body of the golden-haired
woman, then back to Lews Therin. "Shai'tan take you, does the taint already
have you so far in its grip?"
"That name. Shai-" Lews Therin shuddered and raised a hand as though to ward
off something. "You mustn't say that name. It is dangerous."
"So you remember that much, at least. Dangerous for you, fool, not for me.
What else do you remember? Remember, you Light-blinded idiot! I will not let
it end with you swaddled in unawareness! Remember!"
For a moment Lews Therin stared at his raised hand, fascinated by the patterns
of grime. Then he wiped his hand on his even dirtier coat and turned his
attention back to the other man. "Who are you? What do you want?"
The black-clad man drew himself up arrogantly. "Once I was called Elan Morin
Tedronai, but now-"
"Betrayer of Hope." It was a whisper from Lews Therin. Memory stirred, but he
turned his head, shying away from it.
"So you do remember some things. Yes, Betrayer of Hope. So have men named me,
just as they named you Dragon, but unlike you I embrace the name. They gave me
the name to revile me, but I will yet make them kneel and worship it. What
will you do with your name? After this day, men will call you Kinslayer. What
will you do with that?"
Lews Therin frowned down the ruined hall. "Ilyena should be here to offer a
guest welcome," he murmured absently, then raised his voice. "Ilyena, where
are you?" The floor shook; the golden-haired woman's body shifted as if in
answer to his call: His eyes did not see her.
Elan Morin grimaced. "Look at you," he said scornfully. "Once you stood first
among the Servants. Once you wore the Ring of Tamyrlin, and sat in the High
Seat. Once you summoned the Nine Rods of Dominion. Now look at you! A pitiful,
shattered wretch. But it is not enough. You humbled me in the Hall of
Servants. You defeated me at the Gates of Paaran Disen. But I am the greater,
now. I will not let you die without knowing that. When you die, your last
thought will be the full knowledge of your defeat, of how complete and utter
it is. If I let you die at all."
"I cannot imagine what is keeping Ilyena. She will give me the rough side of
her tongue if she thinks I have been hiding a guest from her. I hope you enjoy
conversation, for she surely does. Be forewarned. Ilyena will ask you so many
questions you may end up telling her everything you know."
Tossing back his black cloak, Elan Morin flexed his hands. "A pity for you,"
he mused, "that one of your Sisters is not here. I was never very skilled at
Healing, and I follow a different power now. But even one of them could only
give you a few lucid minutes, if you did not destroy her first. What I can do
will serve as well, for my purposes." His sudden smile was cruel. "But I fear
Shai'tan's healing is different from the sort you know. Be healed, Lews
Therin!" He extended his hands, and the light dimmed as if a shadow had been
laid across the sun.
Pain blazed in Lews Therin, and he screamed, a scream that came from his
depths, a scream he could not stop. Fire seared his marrow; acid rushed along
his veins. He toppled backwards, crashing to the marble floor; his head struck
the stone and rebounded. His heart pounded, trying to beat its way out of his
chest, and every pulse gushed new flame through him. Helplessly he convulsed,