"Katherine Kurtz - Kelson 3 - The Quest for Saint Camber" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kurtz Katherine)

Almost overturning his wine in his haste to put it aside, he enfolded
her with him in the blanket and bore her to the rushes before the cheery fire,
losing himself in growing urgency and pleasure-until suddenly someone was
grabbing a handful of his tunic and yanking him off of her and onto his back,
slamming his shoulders to the rushes, a gloved hand pinning his sword arm
while a wet knee jammed into his chest and the flat of a dagger pressed hard
against his throat.
"Good God, boy, it doesn't even need a Deryni to take you by surprise
when you're that stupid!" said a familiar voice, not Jowan's. "I could have
been anybody!"
As the speaker's identity registered, Conall's reflex alarm and anger
quickly shifted to indignation and then to grudging acknowledgement, though
his hands still closed around the other's wrists to protect himself and move
the blade aside, even as his mind tested at the other's decidedly Deryni
shields.
"Here, now! Enough of that!" the newcomer said, abandoning his threat
and pulling back. "You'll frighten the girl."
Conall subsided immediately, releasing his assailant and sitting up with
a grunt of agreement. The stunned girl only cowered on the rushes and stared
up at both of them in fear, skirts and bodice akimbo, cringing as the cloaked
and hooded stranger sheathed his blade.
"Oh, for Christ's sake, Vanissa, no one's going to hurt you," Conall
said, looking put upon as he reached across to touch her forehead with his
fingertips. "Relax. Go to bed and forget what's just happened. I'll come to
you later. And Tiercel, stop dripping on me!"
The offender drew back with a muttered oath, but he gave a hand up to
the girl, who headed without comment toward the door to the next room, face
devoid of emotion, mechanically smoothing her skirts as she went. When the
door had closed behind her. Tiercel took off the offending cloak and laid it
out next to Conall's. He was only a few years older than the prince.
"So. I was only half joking about just anybody walking right in, you
know," said Tiercel de Claron, for more than a year now Conall's secret tutor
in matters magical and Deryni-though without the knowledge or consent of the
Camberian Council, who staunchly upheld the exclusive right of only one
Haldane at a time to hold the Haldane legacy of magical power. Few outside the
Council itself even knew of its existence-though Conall did, and the risk
Tiercel took to teach him. "It mightn't have been so bad if Jowan had come in-
"
"He's come in before and remembers nothing," Conall interjected, a surly
note in his voice.
"That's undoubtedly true," Tiercel agreed. "At least that kind of
control is better than I ever dared to hope you'd achieve. I wish I could say
the same about your self-control. Couldn't you have waited?"
"I was going to, but I was cold," Conall said, as he lay back to do up
his breeches before rolling to his knees and then getting to his feet. "I'm
not anymore, though," he added, giving the Deryni lord a sly grin. "She's far
better than a fire. Tiercel. Go ahead. Have her, if you want. I'll wait.
She'll never know, if you tell her to forget."
Tiercel snorted disdainfully as he snatched up Conall's discarded towel
to scrub at his own sopping hair. "Sometimes I wonder why I bother with you."