"Andre Norton & Lackey, Mercedes - Elvenbane 3 - Elvenborn" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

But Tennith would find out for himself what the Council had said
if he simply bothered to ask his father. Aelmarkin's best
protection lay in pretending the decision meant very little to him.
"They did a very tiresome thing; they had the production
records from the estate for the last fifty years brought out, and
nothing there shows that cousin Kyrtian is neglecting his estate
or his duties. They decided that he isn't unbalanced, merely
eccentric, and that eccentricity is hardly grounds for taking his
inheritance and giving it to the next male heir."
"Next male heir?" Triana asked significantly, with a little frown.
"Isn't his mother still alive? Wouldn't she be the appropriate heir
even if he was disinherited on the grounds of insanity?" That
was Triana's interest; anything that barred another female from
inheriting could eventually be used against her.
"His mother is not my sister," Aelmarkin replied. "She's not the
next heir of blood-descent, as you so clearly were for clan
Falcion. If Kyrtian were removed, the estate would come to me,
naturally and legally."
"She's probably the one running things, then," Tennith pointed
out. "If she doesn't want to be sent back to live in her father's
household, she has to make it look as if your cousin is
competent."
"That may be, but I've no hope of proving it," Aelmarkin
growled, wishing that Lady Lydiell had resembled the child at
his feet rather than the clever creature she was. He recalled his
intended pose, and forced a laugh. "Well, I suppose the Council
had to rule the way that they did. Lord Jaspireth told me rather
tartly that if fitness to hold title and property was to be judged on
the basis of unusual hobbies, half the Council would lose their
seats."
"Half?" Tennith laughed. "More like three-quarters! Looked at in
that light, it's obvious you are a victim of necessity."
Aelmarkin signaled to his wench to refill his goblet, and sipped
at the vintage with deliberation. "Much as I would like to see the
lands of my clan administered properly, I suspect they will come
to me in time, anyway. Kyrtian shows no sign of marrying, which
in itself ought to prove his unfitness, and it's entirely possible
he'll manage to break his neck, or do something equally foolish
to himself, as he careens around the countryside."
"Break his neck?" queried the second lady, looking puzzled, as
did her escort. "I'm afraid I'm rather lost, Aelmarkin. I don't know
anything about your cousin. Who is he? Is he doing something
dangerous?"
That triggered laughter among some of the others, who were
more familiar with Aelmarkin's cousin than she was. Triana took
pity on her--probably because the lady's escort was neither
clever nor outstandingly handsome--and explained.
"We've been discussing Kyrtian V'dyll Lord Prastaran," Triana
said, giving Aelmarkin's cousin his full name and title. "Surely
you've heard something about him?"