"Mercedes Lackey - Brightly Burning" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lackey Mercedes)

тАЬCome along, Scrub,тАЭ said Loman, clamping his hand on LanтАЩs shoulder hard enough to bruise,
and lifting him up out of his seat. тАЬTyron wants a word with you.тАЭ
The Sixth Former shoved him roughly up the aisle between the tables, until they arrived at
TyronтАЩs seat. Tyron had turned his chair about and was waiting, watching them down his nose, for all the
world like he thought he was the King himself on his throne. Then again-here, he might just as well have
been.
Lan stumbled to a halt, managing not to fall when Loman gave him a final push. тАЬSo, Scrub,
youтАЩve been gone a while,тАЭ Tyron said, with a glittering, false smile.
тАЬIтАЩve been sick . . . sir.тАЭ It was hard to choke out the last word, but he did, anger smoldering, but
not yet burning. He dropped his eyes to the wooden floor, determined not to let Tyron see anything in his
face that he could use.
тАЬSo IтАЩve been told. And do you know, I donтАЩt believe it. I think youтАЩre lying, Scrub. I think
youтАЩre a slacker, and a liar.тАЭ
Lan gritted his teeth and said nothing.
Tyron raised his voice so that the whole room could hear-easy enough, now that every other
voice had been silenced. тАЬI think you were feigning. You just wanted to slack off, wanted a little holiday
for yourself. You might have fooled your mummy, but you canтАЩt fool me. Now what have you got to say
for yourself?тАЭ
тАЬNo one fools my mother, least of all me . . . sir. Especially not when it costs her money for the
services of the herbalist.тАЭ He managed not to throw TyronтАЩs accusation back in his teeth, and to keep his
tone level, though every muscle in his body strained. And-thank the gods!-Tyron laughed at that. тАЬAnd
when I wasnтАЩt drinking the herbalistтАЩs wretched medicines, she saw to it I got no holiday from books.тАЭ
 тАЬOwly!тАЭ Tyron called. тАЬIs that true?тАЭ
тАЬHeтАЩs ahead of the rest of us, sir,тАЭ Owly replied sullenly.
Tyron laughed again. тАЬAnd thatтАЩs one in your eye, isnтАЩt it, little bookworm? ThatтАЩs one in your
eye!тАЭ
Lan thought for a moment that he might escape, that heтАЩd provided Tyron with enough
amusement for the moment.
тАЬStill, youтАЩve not been here, have you? YouтАЩve not been here to have, oh, any number of tasks
set you.тАЭ TyronтАЩs voice took on that cloyingly pleasant tone it always did when he was about to do
something appalling. тАЬSo I believe IтАЩll have to set you something that will make up for your absence.
Your father is a cloth merchant, is he not?тАЭ
Lan couldnтАЩt imagine what his father would have to do with this, but he nodded, rather than trust
his tone not to betray him.
тАЬGood. I need a new wardrobe for Midwinter, and my parents are being stubborn about
expenses. Bring me a tunic length of scarlet velvet tomorrow. Silk velvet, mind, not wool plush. I have
appearances to keep up.тАЭ
At that, LanтАЩs head snapped up as his mouth dropped open. тАЬHow am I supposed to do that?тАЭ
he squeaked incredulously. Silk velvet was worth a gold piece an ell-and scarlet was worth twice that!
He couldnтАЩt just waltz up to his father and ask for two ells of the stuff!
тАЬYouтАЩve pocket money, donтАЩt you?тАЭ Tyron asked, his eyes sparkling maliciously.
тАЬNo! I donтАЩt! My parents-тАЭ he choked on the words, blushing as scarlet as the coveted velvet at
having to confess in public that he was not given the pocket money that every other student seemed to
have.
тАЬWell, then, I suppose youтАЩll just have to find some other way, wonтАЩt you?тАЭ Tyron lounged back
in his chair and waved his hand idly. тАЬIтАЩm sure youтАЩll think of something. Remember, two ells of scarlet
silk velvet, by tomorrow. IтАЩm sure you know what will happen-тАЭ the greedy eyes gloated at him, тАЬ-if you
were to fail to get it for me.тАЭ
He stumbled back down the aisle, now as much of a pariah as Froggy; people actually drew
back from him, as if afraid his misfortune would contaminate them. He didnтАЩt even try to take his seat; he