"Mercedes Lackey - Mage Storms 1 - Storm Warning" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lackey Mercedes)

found that it was just as effective to have underlings willing to fling themselves in front
of the assassinтАЩs blade without a single thought as it was to ferret out the assassin
himself.
Otherwise, the man on the throne had little else in common with his chosen
successor. Charliss had been considered handsome in his day, and the longing
glances of the women in his Court even yet were not entirely due to the power and
prestige that were granted to an Imperial mistress. Tremane was, to put it bluntly, so
far from comely that it was likely only his power, rank, and personal prestige that won
women to his bed. His thinning hair was much shorter than was fashionable, his
receding hairline gave him a look of perpetual be-fuddlement. His eyes were too
small, set just a hair too far apart; his beard was sparse, and looked like an
afterthought. His thin face ended in a lantern jaw; his wiry body gave no hint of his
quality as a warrior. Charliss often thought that the manтАЩs tailor ought to be taken out
and hanged; he dressed Tremane in sober browns and blacks that did nothing for his
complexion, and his clothing hung on him as if he had recently lost weight and
muscle.
Then again . . . Tremane was only one of several candidates for the Iron Throne,
and he knew it. He looked harmless, common, and of average intelligence, but no
more than that. It was entirely possible that all of this was a deeply laid plan to
appear ineffectual. If so, CharlissтАЩ own network of intelligence agents told him that the
plan had succeeded, at least among the rest of the rivals for the position. Of all of the
candidates for the Iron Throne, he was the one with the fewest enemies among his
rivals.
They were as occupied with eliminating each other as in improving their own
positions, and in proving their ability to the Emperor. He was free to concentrate on
competence. This was not a bad position to be in.
Perhaps he was even more clever than Charliss had given him credit for. If so, he
would need every bit of that cleverness in the task Charliss was about to assign him
to.
The Emperor had not donned robes and regalia for this interview, as this was not
precisely official; he was alone with Tremane - if one discounted the ever-present
bodyguards - and the trappings of Empire did not impress the Grand Duke. Real
power did, and real power was what Charliss held in abundance. He was power, and
with the discerning, he did not need to weary himself with his regalia to prove that.
He cleared his throat, and Tremane bowed slightly in acknowledgment.
тАЬI intend to retire at some point within the next ten years.тАЭ Charliss made the
statement calmly, but a muscle jumping in TremaneтАЩs shoulders betrayed the manтАЩs
excitement and sudden tension. тАЬIt is Imperial custom to select a successor at some
point during the last ten years of the reign so as to assure an orderly transition.тАЭ
Tremane nodded, with just the proper shading of respect. Charliss noted with
approval that Tremane did not respond with toadying phrases like тАЬhow could you
even think of retiring, my Emperor,тАЭ or тАЬsurely it is too early to be thinking of such
things.тАЭ Not that Charliss had expected such a response from him; Tremane was far
too clever.
тАЬNow,тАЭ Charliss continued, leaning back a little into the comfortable solidity of the
Iron Throne, тАЬyou are no oneтАЩs fool, Tremane. You have obviously been aware for a
long time that you are one of the primary candidates to be my successor.тАЭ
Tremane bowed correctly, his eyes never leaving CharlissтАЩ face. тАЬI was aware of
that, certainly, my Emperor,тАЭ he replied, his voice smoothly neutral. тАЬOnly a fool
would have failed to notice your interest. But I am also aware that I am just one of a