"Janet Morris - Silistra 3 - Wind from the Abyss" - читать интересную книгу автора (Morris Janet E)

feel some attempt might be made to pacify him, in light of what he is fast
becoming. Or perhaps even to eliminate him, lest he become, like Se'keroth,
the weapon turned upon the wielder.
And it was signed Carth.
"Carth!" I gasped, as a dark hand snapped the
6 Janet E. Morris
sheet from my grasp. Still upon my knees, I twisted to see him. His dark eyes
gleamed. He ran his hand through his black curls.
"Did you find this informative, Estri?" he asked, towering over me, the paper
crumpled in his fist. Carth was furious. I dared not answer.
I started to my feet.
"Pick them up!" he commanded, pointing.
I scurried to obey him, scrambling for the sheets strewn upon the web-work, my
stomach an icy knot. Once before, I had seen Carth this agitated, when I had
written for him a certain paper. And he had called it audacious, and destroyed
it. I finished, and rose to my full height, handing the tas envelope to him.
My head came to his shoulder. He looked down at me, sternfaced.
"You were ill-advised to do this," he said. "He is not pleased with you.
This"тАФand he threw the crumpled sheet across the roomтАФ"will only aggravate
matters. You had best make some effort to placate him."
"What do you mean?" I demanded. "Has he taken some sudden interest in me?" I
had seen the dharen precisely three times since I had come to reside at the
Lake of Horns: the night he had gotten me with child, the day following, and
once while I lay near death when the child had driven me to seek it. He had
not been at the Lake of Horns when I bore his he-beast into the world. I had
cried out for him during that premature and extended labor. He had not been
available. Now, nearly eight passes later, he had returned.
"Do not be insolent!" Garth's voice snapped as his palm slapped my face to one
side. Tears in my eyes, I put my hand to my cheek. It was what I had thought,
not what I had said, that had brought me punishment. Shaking my head, I backed
away from him. Though I had known Carth a telepath, a surface-reader, rarest
of Silistran talents, never had
WIND FROM THE ABYSS 7
he shown his skills before me, one who neither spoke nor heard the tongues of
mind.
"Estri, come here."
I went to him, my hand trailing from my cheek to the warm, pulsing band locked
about my throat.
When I stood before him, he lifted my face, his hand under my chin, that I
might look into his eyes.
"He is very angry, child. You must realize that what you think is as audible
to him as what you say. I know it was not intentional, that you read what you
did. Forget it, if you can. Concentrate upon what lies before you." He patted
my shoulder, all the anger gone out of him.
"I do not want to see him," I said, toying with the ends of my copper hair,
grown now well below mid-thigh.
Carth pursed his lips. "You have no choice. He will see you in a third-enth.
Make ready." And he turned and strode through the double doors that adjoined
my prison to Khys's quarters. Khys, my couch-mate, was again in residence. The
dharen of all Silistra, back from none knew where, would again rule at the