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

concubine who alleviated his boredom.

And he was waiting for her reply. "After a suitable interval," she said,
placing her hand in his. "Of course, my lord."

For one short moment, she relived her triumph; then she was back, her body
still placing one foot in front of the other, like a mind-controlled slave.

Every bit of exposed skin burned with a torment that had passed beyond pain
long ago. It was so hard to think... So hard to remember who and what she
was, and why she should keep fighting to stay alive.

I am Serina Daeth, daughter of--daughter of--Jared Daeth. Trainer of
gladiators to Lord Dyran--

Little Serina perched on the edge of a bench high above the arena, up in the
shadows where the lesser elves sat when the Lord entertained. The arena
itself was not very large; it probably didn't seat more than four or five
hundred, and the floor, covered with soft sand, could not hold a combat
involving more than four men. This was strictly a dueling arena, meant for
challenge-combat and not much else. It was a sign of Lord Dyran's wealth
that he maintained his own arena. It was also a sign of the number of
challenges he played host to; either his own, or those arranged for others.
Like the other rooms of the manor, it was lit by day by a large, frosted-glass
skylight. The seats immediately surrounding the combat area were covered
in leather padding; those up here were simple wooden benches. Nevertheless,
humans never took these seats when there was a real combat underway.
But the combat in the arena today was strictly for practice, though it was
performed at full speed, and with real, edged weapons. Good weapons, too,
straight from the Lord's forges.

Jared had taken his daughter to see the forges today, as a part of her
education in the reality of being bound to Lord Dyran, and she had been
suitably impressed with the fires, the heat, the smoke, and the huge, brawny
men and women who worked there. Most valuable of all of Lord Dyran's
slaves, the forge-workers received attention and reward even above a
successful duelist.

"We have a good lord," Jared had said in his stolid way. "Good work is
rewarded. The Lord could ignore us, or treat us like cattle; many lords do.
Just you remember that, girl. All benefit and all reward come from Lord
Dyran."

The iron from which steel blades were made had to be pure; it was smelted
ten times to remove any contaminants before it underwent the final process
of smelting with charcoal and air to make it into true steel. Then, when it had
undergone that transmutation, the smiths took it and made it into the
weapons for which Lord Dyran was famed. No few of the elven lords came
to Lord Dyran for their weapons, or so Jared told his daughter.