"McKillip,.Patricia.A.-.Qrmh.2.-.Heir.Of.Sea.And.Fire" - читать интересную книгу автора (McKillip Patricia A)

"Yes. Fve never studied riddle-mastery, but I
have an idea that you can't answer them all at
once. He's doing the best he can. What do you
want him to do? Go lose himself at Erienstar Moun-
tain like the Prince of Hed?"
"No. I want him here."

"For what, in Hel's name? Are you planning to
die or something?"

"Duac," Raederle breathed, but he waited stub-
bornly for the King to answer. She felt, like a live
thing beneath the irritation and obstinacy in them
both, the binding between them beyond all defini-
tion. Then Duac heaved himself to his feet at
Mathom's silence and snapped before he slammed

Heir of Sea and Fire

the door behind him so hard the stones seemed to
rattle, "By Madir's bones, I wish I could see into
that peatbog you call a mind!"

Raederle sighed. She looked at Mathom, who
seemed in spite of the rich robe he wore, black and
impervious as a wizard's curse in the sunlight. "I'm
beginning to hate spring. I won't ask you to explain
the world to me, just why I can't go visit Mara
Croeg while Cyn Croeg is here at the council."

"Who was Thanet Ross and why did he play a
harp without strings?"

She stood a moment, dredging the answer out of
interminable, half-forgotten hours of riddlery. Then
she turned; she heard his voice again, just before
the door slammed once more, "And stay out of
Hel."

She found Duac in the library, staring out the
window. She joined him, leaning against the win-
dow, looking down at the city that sloped gently
away from the King's house to spill around the rim
of the harbor. Trade-ships were drifting in with the
midmoming tide, their colored sails deflating in the
wind like weary sighs. She saw the white and green
of Danan Isig's ships bringing the marvellous crafts
from Isig Mountain; and a hope stirred in her that
the northern Kingdom had sent news more valuable