"Douglas Niles - Druidhome 2 - The Coral Kingdom" - читать интересную книгу автора (Niles Douglas)

"I see." The Earl of Corwell wisely refrained from further conversation on the topic.
"It's a delight to have the queen's presence at our meager Corwellian table," said the rotund Pawldo,
reaching for another rib of pork with both of his ring-bejeweled hands. Though he was a mere three feet
tall, his appetite was the match of any of the humans'. The halfling had made his fortune as a merchant but
was famed more as the courageous adventurer who had accompanied King Kendrick on his rise to the
throne. Now the comforts of his wealth and station generally held him to the confines of Corwell Town or
the neighboring halfling community of Lowhill.
"Your table is always sumptuous, and never more than now," Robyn disagreed with a laugh.
"Will my lady princess be attending the dance?" inquired Hanrald, blushing furiously as he spoke to
Alicia. Keane and Brandon leaned forward.
"I imagine so," Alicia allowed, enjoying the attention as the three of them sought her pledges to dance.
For a moment, she felt the light happiness she had known throughout her life, but then the memory of their
purpose here came back with renewed poignancy, as if her father had perished only yesterday.
Festive Ffolk sat at tables all around them, gathered in knots of conversation. Harps and lutes, flutes and
horns, rang across the broad field, while jugglers and magicians worked through the crowd, entertaining to
exclamations of delight and disbelief. It was altogether a scene of considerable commotion.
Thus the party of strangers approached quite close to the head table before anyone there even took note
of their arrival. A band of men and women, dressed as elegantly as any group of noble lords and ladies,
advanced through the crowd behind a herald bearing a banner of black, white, and red. They numbered
more than a dozen, though none of them were armed, and the few pieces of armor worn by the men
appeared purely ceremonial in nature, as evidenced by detailed engraving and graceful but impractical
shoulder epaulets.
"Who are those people?" Robyn said, abruptly realizing that she didn't recognize the lords or their
banner.
"I recall that tricolor symbol," offered Randolph. "A curragh entered the harbor this morning under a sail
of the same colors. I assumed they were a clan from one of the outlying islands."
The High Queen shook her head emphatically. "I would know if they were," she stated. Robyn
scrutinized the leading lord, an enormously fat individual with multiple chins concealed under a thin beard.
He wore a blue velvet cap that flowed like a pancake out to either side of his head.
It was a style that was new to the Moonshaes, Robyn reflected. It should have looked ridiculous, but the
huge man somehow gained from it a sense of noble dignity.
The herald dipped the tricolor banner in deference to the great bear of the Ffolk, the pennant that floated
above Robyn's table.
"Greetings, stranger," offered the queen, accepting the lord's deep bow with easy grace. "Will you join
our feast? There is plenty for all of your party, but first you must introduce yourselves."
"The High Queen's kindness is, as legend claims, ever flowing! " the lord proclaimed with a grand sweep
of his arm. "We had but hoped to find meager lodgings in your town, but this invitation overwhelms my
humble self!"
Alicia noticed that Keane, seated beside her, had stopped eating. The wizard's eyes were fixed on the
visiting lord's face. Keane was not smiling.
"It is the way of the Ffolk to be hospitable," said Robyn, an edge of curtness to her voice. "Especially
when they know who their guests are and from whence they come."
"Allow me to present my entourage. We journey here from a place that is far away, but we bear a most
important message for my noble queen!"
"And the land, sir? What place is that? And how are you called?" pressed Robyn. The edge of iron in
her voice could not be ignored.
"My name? If you insist that I have one, it shall be what you give me," proclaimed the obese figure, his
own voice growing more firm.
"Cease your riddles, sir. If you have a message, produce it. I grow tired of your rudeness and prattling."
Robyn gestured subtly with her hand, and Keane mumbled a soft word, performing the delicate motions of a