"Shirley Meier & S. M. Stirling - Fifth Millenium 03 - The Cage" - читать интересную книгу автора (Meier Shirley)

Zingas Avritha, so easy to please. All I had to do was tell her I
loved her and she believed me. That was a problem with those
reared to trust nobody and see lies everywhere; disbelieving in
truth, they became unable to recognize it. As vulnerable as
yokels to the right approach; you had to have really felt an
emotion to counterfeit it properly, or to know pretence from
reality. He had her ear and she had the DragonLord . . who was
quite biddable as long as she kept him happyтАж although
growing dangerously unpredictable in his whimsтАФHe forced his
mind away from business matters.

"Of course, Mar," he said. He leaned forward and patted her
hand. "You write and tell them what you think of the invitation."
He leaned back and raised his goblet to her. "To your beauty,
Mar."

She blushed and lowered her head. "You flatter me, my son."

"On the contrary. Perhaps I should buy you some new lace?
To complement you? Or would you like some company, perhaps?
A kitten, or a new slave to train?"

"Only if you can afford it, my son." The comment was strange
on her lips, put there by years of living as they had. Father had
died and the family had seized his inheritance in trust until
Habiku came of age, he being naZak. His mother had had to sell
her embroidery to eke out the miserable pittance that their Zak
law-kin dribbled out, until he could earn for both of them.

He smiled fondly and squeezed her hand, raising it to his lips.
"We don't have to worry any more. The DragonLord has ruled in
my favor in the matter of the House of the Sleeping Dragon. I
have complete authority to spend the capital now, as well as the
income."

Which was just as well, considering what he had beenтАж
arranging, for the company. Great losses, tremendous losses, so
unfortunate: for the books that the tax-assessors would see, at
least, if not for the secret ledgers. The funds from the Karibal
were becoming very helpful, there.

She nodded, lines of worry smoothing out on her brow. It
wasтАж declasse to be concerned with money. One instructed the
steward, or the head of the household saw to it and varied the
allowance for the women's quarters; that was the way of Tor
Ench.

"You take much care for your Mar," she said, laying a gentle
hand on his head. "Many young lords just come into their estate
would forget to do so; you have a good heart, my son." She