"Recluce - 07 - The Chaos Balance" - читать интересную книгу автора (Modesitt L E)

аа "I recall that," Fornal noted. "In the end, the older brother murdered
the younger, but they called it a battle." The dark-haired man smiled
crookedly. "Younger brothers have a way of being loved, I gather.
Especially after they're dead."
аа "I don't think Relyn is dead," said Zeldyan. "And I don't appreciate
the comment. I have always loved you both."
аа Fornal looked down at the table. "I am sorry, sister. That was
uncalled for."
аа "What do you think about Zeldyan's idea?" asked Gethen, his weathered
face carefully impassive.
аа The younger man nodded. "If we make the response flowery enough, we
can manage several exchanges of messages. Especially if we express our
concerns that it has been so long since last we heard from the great and
mighty land of Cyador."
аа "We'll have to give in or express defiance sooner or later," the blond
woman cautioned.
аа "It takes a fast messenger nearly two eight-days to reach Cyad," said
Gethen, "and we cannot be expected to respond the day we receive such a
message."
аа "Fine," said Zeldyan, opening her blouse and easing Nesslek to her
breast. "We can buy a season, perhaps a year. Then what?"
аа "Give the copper mines to Ildyrom," suggested Fornal, "and let him
cope with Cyador, except that wouldn't be honorable."
аа "Even if it were honorable, I would prefer another course," said
Gethen. "But the longer before we must face any other land in battle the
better."
аа The three nodded, not exactly in unison, but in agreement.
а
а
VII
а
IN THE DIM light cast by the fat candles-one on each of the six
tables-Nylan pushed the platter away. He'd eaten too much, too quickly.
Then he smiled at the irony. A year ago, they'd all been on the verge of
starvation-that had certainly contributed to Ellysia's weakness and the
chaos fever that had killed her and left Dephnay an orphan. Now, Westwind
had enough in its larders that Nylan felt comfortably full. Blynnal's
cooking had also helped. Ryba had pulled her chair to the side, and the
glowing embers in the hearth added some light and a gentle warmth to the
big room. The Marshal rocked Dyliess in her arms, gently. "That was
good," Huldran said. Nylan nodded. Holding a sleepy Dyliess to her
shoulder, and patting her back, Ryba pushed back her chair and glanced at
Ayrlyn. "Could we have a song?"
аа "I'll get my lutar." The healer/singer rose. Behind her, so did Istril.
аа "It's good Ayrlyn's teaching Istril and Llyselle the songs," the
Marshal remarked quietly.
аа "I didn't know that Llyselle was learning them." Nylan took a long
swallow of water from his goblet. He didn't like the bitterness of the
tea in the evening, not unless his muscles were exceedingly sore from
smithing, and, despite his wiry frame, that soreness didn't occur that