"Katherine Kurtz - Camber 3 - Camber the Heretic" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kurtz Katherine)

of wine and holding it to Tavis' lips as the man gasped for breath and tried to
struggle back to control.
He forced Tavis to swallow the equivalent of a full cup of the drugged wine,
amid choking and sputters of combined pain, indignation, and fear, then eased
the younger Healer to a half-sitting position against one knee as he set the
flagon back on the table. He watched sympathetically as Tavis regained his
breath and the drugs began taking effect.
"I'm sorry I had to hit you, Tavis," he murmured, laying a monitoring hand
on Tavis's forehead. "But it was necessary for you to drink, since you had the
ill-fortune to be here tonight, and I doubted you would do so of your own
accord."
"But, why?" Tavis croaked out. "My God, Rhys, you've given them
m-m-merasha!" Tavis managed to mumble, around a tongue which was fast
growing too big for his mouth and losing its coherence. "AndтАФand an-halon,
Merasha and a-a-anhalon, and they're not even Deryni!"
"It has been done at His Grace's command, and with his full knowledge,"
Rhys said softly. "Beyond that, I may tell you nothing more. And even if I might,
you wouldn't remember . . . would you?"
Tavis's gaze became a little more distant, his eyes less focused, and Rhys
could easily follow the increasingly confused and slurred surface thoughts as
Tavis tried to analyze his reactions and identify their causes.
But his shields were also melting away. Gradually, Rhys began to extend his
control into the other's mind, gently but surely, nudging the increasingly
sluggish mind toward sleep and forgetfulness. Tavis gave token resistance, and
a part of him raged that he should be so invaded against his will, but after the
weakest of struggles, he succumbed to unconsciousness, totally at Rhys's
command.
Rhys, after carefully erasing what had just occurred, and inserting new
memories to account for Tavis's sleep, gently picked up the sleeping Healer and
carried him to a pile of furs before the fireplace. Arranging him there amid a
pile of pillows and covering him lightly with a sleeping fur, he laid Tavis's scroll
near his relaxed hand and checked the depth of his sleep a final time.
Then, after emptying the last of the drugged wine down the garde-robe
shaft, and rinsing it and the cups with water from a ewer, he poured a little of
the leftover table wine from dinner into the flagon and added yet another
powderтАФthis one truly a sleep-encouraging physick. A little of this he splashed
into each of the cups, then emptied all into the garde-robe again. Now, even
inspection of the dregs would not reveal what had been done.
Finally, he went to a tall wooden closet in the corner of the boys' sleeping
chamber and pressed a series of whorls and depressions in the heavy carving. A
panel slid aside in the rear of the closet to reveal a bored-looking Joram sitting
on the stone floor beyond, bundled closely in his Michaeline greatcloak. A
narrow passageway stretched into darkness beyond him.
"It certainly took you long enough," Joram whispered, getting to his feet and
brushing dust from his posterior. "I thought you were going to find me a stiff,
frozen statue. Everyone asleep?"
Rhys nodded. "Sorry for the delay. As I feared, Tavis was determined to stay
about, so I had to drug him as well as the squires. He won't remember anything
in the morning, though. Come on. We'll take the twins through first."