"Quickening - 01 - Myrren's Gift" - читать интересную книгу автора (McIntosh Fiona)

Through a haze of pain Thirsk scrutinized the grieving man before him. noticing for the first time how gray his KingТs hair had become. Once lustrous, it framed a strong-looking face, a determined jaw. and eyes that somehow reflected the manТs extraordinary intelligence. The KingТs tall bearing suddenly gave the impression of a vague stoop, as though his big body was getting too heavy for him to carry around. They were getting old.

The General suddenly rasped a laugh. He would grow no older than this day. The King looked up sharply at the unexpected sound and Fergys shrugged, sending a new wave of agony through his ruptured body.

УWeТve always managed to laugh at most things. Magnus.Ф

УNot at this, Fergys. Not at this.Ф The King sighed again.

Fergys could hear the pain in that deep breath. They had shared their childhood. Their fathers had raised them to be close but the friendship was not forced. Fergys had worshiped the heir and then the King, and for his part, Magnus considered his General a brother in all but birthright. He loved Fergys fiercely and relied on his counsel, had done so throughout his long and flourishing reign. They were as wise together as they were wily.

УWhat must I do?Ф the King whispered.

With his last reserves of energy, the soldier squeezed the hand of his King.

УYour majesty, it is my belief that you would no more celebrate the death of King Valor of Briavel than you do mine. Morgravia has nothing to fear from him now for perhaps as much as the next decadeЧmake it so, my King. Call a parley, sire. No more young men need lose their lives today.Ф

УI want to. I have no desire to prolong this battle, as you well know, and if it had not been for my own stupidity, you wouldnТtЧФ

Thirsk interrupted the KingТs outpouring of guilt with a spasm of coughing, blood spattering his shirt. Death would no longer be patient. The King began to reach for linens but his General pushed the monarchТs fussing hands away.

УMy death should sufficeЧit will be seen as a major blow for Morgravia,Ф he said matter-of-factly before adding. УValor is proud but he is not stupid. He has no male heir. sire. His young Princess will be Queen one day and will need an army of her own, and for Briavel to breed the soldiers of the future, they need peace. But their men. and ours, would do well to dispense with the ancient quarrel altogether. The threat from the north is very real, my King, for both our realms. You may need each other one day.Ф

Thirsk spoke of Cailech, the self-proclaimed King of the Mountain People. In the early days Cailech had merely been the upstart and impossibly young leader of a rabble of hard Mountain Dwellers who rarely left their high ground among the imposing sprawl of ranges that framed the far north and northeast. His kind for centuries had kept their tribal squabbles to themselves, contained within the Razors, as the range was called. Back then, fifteen or so years ago, this young warrior, no more than eighteen summers, had begun to stamp a brutal authority across the tribes, uniting them. Thirsk had believed for several years now that it was only a matter of time before Cailech would feel confident enough to look beyond the mountains and out toward the fertile lands of Morgravia and Briavel.

УI will continue your strengthening of the Legion to the north,Ф the King said, reading his thoughts.

УThat will help me rest easy.Ф

Both men could hear ThirskТs increasingly rapid breathing.

Magnus had to push back all the emotion welling inside him. УAnd so for you, my dearest friend. What can I do for you before you leave me?Ф They clasped hands for the last time in the Legionnaire manner.

УA blood pact, sire.Ф

The KingТs eyebrow raised. He remembered the first time they had mixed blood. They had been lads and permitted to witness the ritual being performed between the former dukes of Felrawthy and ArgornЧa special linking of MorgraviaТs most powerful duchies in the north and south of the realm. The two boys had watched the rites wide-eyed, impressed at the solemnity of the occasion and the deep commitment between the participants. It had been MagnusТs idea for them to do the same. УWeТll commit to each other.Ф heТd said to Fergys. УYou will love me as your King and I will love you as my General, but we will be blood brothers above all else.Ф

They had found the courage to cut each other and hold palms together as the two nobles had done. They had not been even ten years old.

Thirsk coughed violently again. His passing into the dark was just moments away. They could sense it.

УName it, Fergys!Ф the King growled, his anxiety betraying him. УWhatever you ask is granted. You know it.Ф

Thirsk nodded, exhausted. УThe children. My boy. Wyl. He must return from Argorn immediately. He is already General of the Legion and does not know it. He must finish his training in the palace.Ф A new fit of coughing interrupted him. УBring Gueryn with him. sire. Keep them close. There is no better teacher for him.Ф

УExcept the one who leaves him now,Ф the King replied grimly. УAnd Ylena?Ф

УAll I ask is that you make a good marriage for her.Ф Thirsk looked toward the table where his dagger lay.

Magnus moved without a word and fetched it. He sat down again beside his friend. The King passed the blade over his palm and did the same to Thirsk. They rejoined hands, mingling their blood.