"Quickening - 02 - Blood And Memory" - читать интересную книгу автора (McIntosh Fiona)

It made political and strategic sense. Of course it did. When Celimus had first broached the subject to him, Wyl had been highly impressed by the farsighted plan the young King had devised to force these two warring realms to set aside their differences, their history of hate, once and for all. He had even agreed to help shape such a unionЧuntil his inner sense told him things were not as straightforward as the new sovereign proposed. First, the old King, Magnus, had died only hours before Celimus already had presented Wyl with a well-laid strategy and a team of foreign mercenaries hired and ready to depart. The side of Wyl that knew from bitter experience that Celimus was a traitorous snake smelled the trap. And he had been right. His decision not to support the KingТs wishes had led to the slaughter of his great friend, Alyd Donal, and had almost claimed the life of his sister, had he not then agreed to travel into Briavel, escorted by strangers, and win a princess for the King of Morgravia.

How could he have knownЧin that moment, terrified for his sister and by how close that vicious axe blade had come to ending her life in the Stoneheart courtyardЧhow twisted CelimusТs plan actually was. Not only had the King planned to use the Thirsk name to win an audience with King Valor and then ValentynaТs hand in marriage, but he had already ordered the deaths of Wyl and ValorЧby different assassinsЧonce the betrothal agreement had been made. Darker yet, Celimus had contrived to blame Wyl Thirsk for the KingТs death while ensuring that the executioners, one of whom was Romen Koreldy, were also killed, thus covering his trail of deception.

Celimus, however, had not reckoned on the integrity of the assassin, Koreldy, whose lifetime loyalty the King thought had been safely secured with an obscene payment of gold, or of a blood pact made between Thirsk and Koreldy for whichever one of them survived a duel to the death to reveal the KingТs treachery. But little did any of them know about an even greater menace that lurked mysteriously around their grand plans and lived within Wyl Thirsk himself; brutal and without loyalty to anything but itself, it was a gift from the witch Myrren to Wyl for his kindness during her trial torture. It had waited patiently for many years to wreak its havoc, and when it had finally struck, it was savage and shocking, forcing the spirit of Wyl, whose body was dying from KoreldyТs sword blow, to claim KoreldyТs life and body instead. Thirsk had become Koreldy and now he had become the whore Hildyth when MyrrenТs Gift had struck again.

Wyl surfaced from his troubled thoughts realizing his mind was rambling over old ground. He could not change what had happened; he could only move forward now and work to protect his sisterЧthe last of the ThirsksЧand somehow thwart CelimusТs determined intentions to control Briavel through marriage to Valentyna. First, though, he must track down the Manwitch. He was MyrrenТs true father and might have answers for him.

In making the decision to let go of the past, his biggest regret was knowing that Valentyna, whom he had loved from the moment she had first breezed into his life when he was General Wyl Thirsk of the Morgravian Legion, had fallen in love with him as Romen Koreldy. His own feelings for her had only intensified during his time as Romen and he could never forgive himself for risking that love and allowing her to think that he had betrayed her when she had so relied on him.

A headache was gathering. He must find out more about who he had become before the pain and this grief over his love for the Queen claimed him completely. She could never love him now in this strange and female body. Wyl could not bring himself to look at his new body just yet or touch it. But he held no such reticence for the memories, not caring that they were not his own. What remained belonged to Wyl now. They were his to remember and use.

He leaned back exhausted against a tree and delved. Wyl learned the whore Hildyth had simply been another guise. He was in fact Faryl of CoombeЧa brilliant assassin, born in the midlands, familiar with places far away from Morgravia or BriavelЧand riddled with secrets.



Chapter 1


The Queen had suffered a sleepless night, churning over her decision to expel Romen Koreldy. Valentyna had measured the dark hours by listening to the muted noises of the guard changing. The only other distraction was the distant, infrequent howl of a dogЧor was it a wolf? She wondered if it was caught in one of the traps laid by poachersЕor more whimsically she imagined it had lost its mate and was venting its despair.

She understood such things, for the sorrowful cry only served as an echo of her own loneliness.

Valentyna asked herself yet again if she could have hung on to the man she loved and still appeased an angry king? A king, she added, with more than enough fighting power to overwhelm Briavel. The answer, whichever way she approached the problem, was no.

УDamn duty!Ф she murmured into her coverlets. She punched the feather pillow that brought no comfort this night.

To add to the misery, a vision of Fynch haunted her. How he had looked at her she would never forget. He too had grown to love Romen, despite his misgivings about the man. She and her young friend had shared so much in the short time they had known each other. But all of that closeness was shattered now. Fynch was avoiding her because she had so deliberately distanced herself from Romen and ordered him expelled from Briavel.

She had cast aside a man she loved over CelimusЧa man they all hated. A child, not familiar with the way of politics and diplomacy, would believe her actions made no sense. But this was no ordinary child. Fynch was special in his serious, deep-thinking manner. He understood all too well, but that did not mean he felt any comfort in his understanding.

She did not want to lose his companionship, but it seemed the day just gone had risen solely to bring loss to her life.

King Celimus, she realized, kicking off her blankets with irritation, would probably be close to the border by now, possibly even crossing into Morgravia. She had no doubt spies would keep him updated on BriavelТs events, and her standoff with Koreldy would be high on the list of missives. It suddenly occurred to her that the King might have Romen tracked down upon hearing this news. Surely Romen would be cautious? He had been warned that to set foot into Morgravia was to risk certain execution. Failing his own good sense, she trusted that her own Commander Liryk would counsel Romen. Hopefully they had ridden through the night and would be headed north, back to where he had come from.

УWhere Cailech, King of the Mountains, awaits him,Ф she whispered sorrowfully.

The last time Valentyna had cried passionately was over her father and the time before that when she had fallen from a horse a decade ago. She considered herself resilient, but silent, heavy tears won now as she accepted the enormity of her orders. Romen had nowhere to go. Briavel represented safety. Beyond its borders to the north and west, people wanted to kill him. The south offered only ocean, no comfort. To the east, only fear in the little-known Wild. Fynch knew it too. That was the reason for the accusation in that chilling final glance he had given her.

It spoke of betrayed friendships.

And he was right. What had Romen been thinking during that swordfight! It was clear that he had meant to kill Celimus, and then where but in intense danger would that have left Briavel?

Romen knew how precarious her predicament had been. What had been his intention? She had not had a chance to consider it, in truth. She had not had the luxury of opportunity to think it through; she had been forced to react, and swiftly, in the only way that a monarch in her situation could have done. She knew her decision was politically correct, but this reassurance was cold comfort.

Her heart ached. She loved Romen and she had sent him awayЕnot just away in fact, for expulsion had more serious implications. Briavel no longer recognized him as friend. Romen Koreldy would not be permitted to set so much as a toe inside Briavel. If recognized, he would be captured and imprisoned. Her actions had trapped him. Whichever way he turned; whichever borders he finally crossed, he was as doomed as their new and fragile love.

Valentyna twisted beneath her remaining sheet, banishing thoughts of his touch, which brought a new kind of ache to her body. She would have given herself gladly to him that night before the tourney, but his was the voice of calm among the waves of passion. It was Romen who pulled back, Romen who made her see the reason for holding on to the most precious commodity for a new queen.