"Andre Norton & Lackey, Mercedes - Elvenbane 1 -The Elvenbane" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

her face as he realized that he had never bothered to check on the age of
"Yssandra," only that the Lord in question did, indeed, have a daughter of
that name. He had not wanted to advertise the fact that he was considered a
less-than-desirable mate by actively seeking a spouse among his inferiors; he
had been hoping one would offer so that he would be able to look "gracious."
When "Yssandra" had appeared at his door, he thought his prayers had been
answered, and had been so busy sweeping her off her feet he had neither
chance nor time for anything else. Alara's credentials had been perfect; the
message she bore plausible. They should have been; Alara had stolen them
from an excellent source.

"I would suggest, my lord," continued the other, a certain smug, self-assured
arrogance creeping into his tone, "that you have been the victim of a very
poor joke. And if I were you, I should be grateful that the joke never went so
far as wedlock. I--"

But that was too much.

"A joke! Is this your idea of a joke?" Rathekrel exploded with anger, backing
a single pace and destroying teleson, desk, and all with a single mage-bolt.

The slaves scattered to the corners of the library, ducking to avoid the
shower of debris. Difficult though elven thoughts were for a dragon to
decipher, his rage made them clear enough to Alara, and they were
everything she could have wanted. The unfortunate choice of the word
"joke" had triggered a set of assumptions and reactions Lord Myen never
intended.

There were any number of people who would profit by Rathekrel's
embarrassment, and Lord Myen was high on the list. Furthermore, Myen
could argue that he, too, had been injured by this unknown prankster, since
his name had been stolen for the ruse.

But the last time someone had played a double-dealing trick on Rathekrel--
and apparently upon another lord as well--the perpetrator turned out to be
the same person who claimed equal injury...

Therefore, by Rathekrel's logic, Myen was the guilty party.

And since he was the perpetrator, Rathekrel would see him punished for it.
Lord Myen would regret this "joke." Lord Myen would pay, in ways he had
not even imagined.

It was truly amazing how a few, ill- (or well-) chosen words could set a spark
to the dry tinder of Rathekrel's uncertain temper.
He whirled, and only then noticed the humans, as one of the youngest shrank
back, cowering in his corner, and whimpered.

"OUT!" he screamed, his face white, his pupils dilated so that his eyes were
black holes of rage, rimmed by a thin line of emerald.