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

Serina drifted on clouds of light, too overcome with lassitude to wonder at
anything. A few moments later, she found herself standing behind Dyran, in
her place behind his seat in the arena. He was not alone.

The arena was alive with color and light, and buzzing with conversation.
Serina replaced a red velvet cushion that had fallen from Lord Dyran's
couch, trying to remain inconspicuous and very much aware that she was the
only other human in the audience.

She had followed Dyran out to the arena, even though it meant crossing
under that horrid open sky to do so, and he had made no move to stop her.
Nor had anyone barred her from his side when he took his place in his
private box with his guests, V'Tarn Sandar Lord Festin and V'Kal Alinor
Lady Auraen. The Lady had given her a very sharp and penetrating look
when Serina entered behind Dyran, but when she made no move to seat
herself, but rather, remained standing in a posture of humility, the Lady
evidently made up her mind to ignore the human interloper.
All three elven lords were in high formal garb, in their house colors, wearing
elaborate surcoats stiff with bullion, embroidery in gold and silver thread,
and bright gemstones, all in motifs that reflected their Clan crests. Dyran
sported gold and vermilion sunbursts, Lord Sandar wore emerald and
sapphire delphins, and Lady Alinor pale green and silver cranes.

The occasion for all this finery was the settling of a disagreement between
Lord Vossinor and Lord Jertain. Serina wasn't entirely sure what, exactly, the
disagreement was about. It did involve a disputed trade route, and a series of
insults traded in Council--and it was by the ruling of the Council itself that
the duel was to take place.

"... and I, for one, am heartily sick of it," Lady Alinor murmured to Dyran as
she dropped gracefully into her seat. "Jertain might actually be in the right
this time, but he has lied so often that how can one know for certain? I truly
believe that he doesn't know the truth of the matter anymore."

"The Council is exceedingly grateful to you and Edres for providing the
means of settling the damned situation once and for all," Sandar said, with
just the faintest hint of annoyance.

Dyran only smiled graciously. "I am always happy to be of service to the
Council," he said smoothly, handing Lady Alinor a rosy plum from the dish
Serina held out to him.

He's been working toward this for months, Serina thought smugly, offering
the dish to Lord Sandar as well. This way the Council owes him for getting a
nuisance out of their hair, and neither side can expect him to take a side. No
matter who wins, he wins. Not to mention the favors owed for providing a
neutral place, and fighters matched to a hair.

"And what about the dispute between Hellebore and Ondine?" Sandar asked
Alinor. "Is there any word on that?"