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

young men he'd trained himself. Jared's experience against a younger man's
strength and endurance--Jared fighting someone who knew what his moves
were going to be before he made them.

"It would be an interesting proposition, my lord," Jared said slowly, so
slowly that Serina knew how carefully he was thinking before he replied.
"But I must point out that it could mean the loss of your chief trainer. It
would mean the loss of your chief trainer for a month or so, no matter what.
I'm not so spry anymore that I can avoid every stroke, and I'm too old to heal
in a hurry."

Serina waited, holding her breath, for Dyran's response.

He threw back his head and laughed, his long hair tossing, and both Serina
and her father heaved identical sighs of relief. "I couldn't risk that, old man,"
he said, slapping Jared on the back, exactly as Serina had seen him slap a
horse on the flank; with the same kind of proprietary pride. "Not with a half
dozen duels scheduled for this month alone. No, we'll keep the losses among
those we can replace, I think. Carry on."

Dyran strolled away, still chuckling, as Jared marched his men back towards
their quarters--

The bright lights of the arena... How many times had she stood under them?
The lights illuminated the audience as relentlessly as the fighters, for the
elven lords came to the duels to be seen as well as to be spectators
themselves. And they never disputed her presence there, however much it
was against custom. They had seen how Dyran wanted her there, and none of
them dared challenge Dyran on his home ground. She had made herself
indispensable, but it had taken more work than any of them guessed, for no
other concubine had dared to do the things she had done...

No other but me, she murmured to herself, her mind and body floating
somewhere strange and bright. None but me.

Serina had learned early how to keep up with Dyran's long, ground-eating
strides without looking as if she were hurrying. She would never, ever allow
herself to look less than graceful. One slip, and she might find herself
replaced.

But this was an important part of her plan to make herself Dyran's permanent
favorite. She went anywhere with him that she could, provided she was not
specifically forbidden to accompany him. Rowenie had never left the harem;
Rowenie had never lifted a finger for herself, much less waited on her Lord.

So Serina followed Dyran everywhere, and waited on him with her own
hands. Not adoringly, no--invisibly. So that he never noticed who was
serving him unless he looked straight at her. Which he had done in the first
few months of her ascendancy, and been surprised to find her there, with the
goblet, the plate, the pen and tablet. And never did he see her looking back at