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

For the fighters of the elven lords' armies, they made fine swords, spear- and
axe-heads, and tiny, razor-sharp arrowheads that could not be pulled from a
wound, only cut out. For the duelists, however, the gladiators and other
fighters, the weaponry was far different--weapons meant to wound rather
than kill. Chain-flails, maces, short, broad knives, metal-barbed whips,
tridents--all meant to prolong combat, all requiring great skill in the
handling.

The two fighters in the arena now, practicing under her father's careful eye,
were armed with gladiatorial weapons. One had a trident, the other, a chain-
flail; both were also armed with knives.

The exchange seemed to be an even one; the red-haired giant with the chain-
flail managed to stay out of reach of the trident points, while the swarthy
man with the trident avoided having his pole fouled by the chains of the flail.
Serina watched them with wide eyes, remembering that she had seen one of
the breeder women taken from the red-haired man's cubicle this morning, her
face a mass of bruises.

And she knew already that she was destined to serve these men, or others
like them--unless she managed to save herself from that fate.

"Your fate is in your own hands," Jared had said. "Always remember that,
girl. Make it your first concern to please your Lord, because no one else can
make any difference to you."

The slave-master had already remarked to Ambra, her mother, just how fast
she was growing, and how she was going to have to go into training soon.
Serina knew what that training was for; Jared had explained it to her with
blunt words; explained the difference between a concubine and a breeder.
And he had hammered home the lesson that any change in her fate lay only
in Lord Dyran's hands and her own diligence.

She had seen already how true his words were. Only last year they had taken
her older brother Tamar away, sold or given him to another elven lord who
had admired his fragile grace. Her younger brother Kaeth was being trained
now in the assassins' school, taken there two weeks ago, when his agility had
been uncovered during a foray on the Lord's fruit trees.

She had cried when Kaeth left in the hands of his trainers, and her mother
had taken her aside, into her own room, and sat her down on the edge of the
bed; told her sternly to dry her tears. "The lords rule everything," Ambra had
said, without pity, but with tears shining in her eyes, tears that Serina sensed
she dared not shed. "We are fortunate in having a lord such as Lord Dyran to
rule us. He rewards us well for good service; there are lords who reward no
one and nothing, and punish as their whim leads them. If Kaeth does well, he
will be rewarded. He deserved to be punished for stealing fruit, and instead
he is being given a wonderful chance. He could have been killed out of hand.
That is the difference between our Lord and others."