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

obscure relics of Evelon?"
"Yes!" Brynnire replied, brightening. "Ancestors! You don't
mean to tell me that was Kyrtian's father?"
"The same," Aelmarkin told her, with a heavy sigh. "A sad case
indeed. And it should have been obvious to the Great Council
from that fiasco that the estate should not have been put in the
hands of his son."
"I should say not." Lady Brynnire nodded her head, after
exchanging a look with her escort. "At least, I would not have."
"Nor anyone else with any sense." Aelmarkin thought it more
than time to change the subject, and signaled for the dancers.
The musicians, who had been playing soothing, quiet
background music until this moment, abruptly changed mood
and tempo, startling the guests with a thunder of percussion.
The lights dimmed, and a mist arose from the censers, a
scented, cool mist that relaxed and yet stimulated the senses,
even as it obscured the couches and their occupants. Only the
space in the middle of the couches remained clear, lit from
some invisible source.
The dancers ran in from all directions, dressed in the merest
scraps of animal-hide, paint, beads, and feathers, and meant to
represent wild humans. Not that any of Aelmarkin's guests had
ever seen wild humans--nor had Aelmarkin himself, for that
matter--but that would hardly matter. Most entertainments
featured dancers mimicking the graceful and ethereal dances of
their masters, or dancers changed to resemble animated
flowers, birds, or flames. Aelmarkin wanted to startle his guests
with something different.
The dance began with astonishing leaps as the performers
hurled themselves across the floor with total abandon, their
unbound hair streaming out behind them. Then, as drums
pounded, the females hurled themselves at the males, who
caught them in various positions, whirled them around, and
flung them on to the next partner. There was frank and
unflinching eroticism in their choreography. Even Aelmarkin,
who had seen them practicing, felt his pulse quicken at their raw
sensuality.
"Ancestors!" Tennith muttered under his breath, his eyes wide.
"What is this?"
"An ancient fertility rite, so I'm told," Aelmarkin said casually. "I
thought it might be interesting to watch."
Tennith didn't reply; his eyes were glued to the dancers.
Half combat, and half mating-frenzy, it was sometimes difficult
to tell if the dancers intended to couple or kill each other, and
the performance built to a pulse-pounding crescendo that
ended in a tangle of bodies suggestive of both.
By Aelmarkin's orders, the lights dimmed gradually as the
dance ended, leaving the room bathed only in star- and
moonlight. As he had hoped, the performance had achieved the
arousing effect he had intended. His guests had turned their