"Tamora Pierce - Protector Of The Small 4 - Lady Knight" - читать интересную книгу автора (Pierce Tamora)

glaive. It was her favourite weapon, a wooden staff five feet long, shod with iron, cored with lead, and
capped by eighteen inches of curved, razor-sharp steel. Banishing all thoughts, opening herself to
movement, she began the first steps, thrust, lunges and spins of the most complicated combat
pattern-dance she knew.
Her dog, Jump, grumbled and crawled out of bed. He leaped out of one of the open windows to
empty his bladder. The sparrows, fluffed up and piping their own complaints, fluttered outside to visit
their kinfolk around the palace.
Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie's Peak, Kel's former knight-master and present taskmaster, was not
in his study when Kel arrived there after breakfast. Another morning conference, she thought, and sat
down with chalk and slate to calculate the number of wagons that would be required to move the King's
Own's supplies up to the Scanran border. She was nearly done when Lord Raoul came in, a sheaf of
papers in one ham-sized fist.
"We're in it for certain," he told Kel. He was a big man, heavily muscled from years of service with the
Own. His ruddy face was lit with snapping black eyes and topped with black curls. Like Kel, he was
dressed for comfort in tunic, shirt, breeches and boots in shades of maroon, brown and cream. He
slammed his bulk into one of the chairs facing the desk where she worked. "You know, I thank the gods
every day that Daine is on our side," he informed Kel. "If ever we've needed a mage who can get animals
to spy and carry messages, it's now."
Kel nodded. Unlike other generations, hers did not have to wait for Scanran information until the
mountain passes cleared each year. Daine, known as the Wildmage, shared a magical bond with animals,
one that endured even when she was not with them. For three years her eagles, hawks, owls and geese
had carried tidings south while the land slept through winter snows, allowing Tortall to prepare itself for
the latest moves in Scanra.
"Important news, I take it?" Kel asked.
"I'm glad you're sitting down," Raoul said. "The Scanrans have a new king."
Kel shrugged. Rulership in Scanra was always changing. The clan lords were unruly and proud; few
dynasties lasted more than a generation or two. This last one hadn't even lasted one generation. She was
surprised that Raoul would be concerned about yet another king on what was called the Bloody Throne.
Far more worrisome was the threat that had emerged a couple of years before, a warlord named Maggur
Rathhausak. He had studied combat in realms with real armies, not raiding bands. Serving as one clan's
warlord, he had conducted enough successful raids in Tortall that other clans had asked him to lead their
fighters as well. With more warriors he had won more victories and brought home more loot and slaves,
enough to bribe other clans to swear allegiance to him. It was Rathhausak that the Tortallans prepared to
fight this year, not the ruling council in Hamrkeng or its king.
"So they'll be fighting each other all summer instead ofтАж" Kel let her voice trail off as Raoul shook his
head. "Sir?" she asked, unsure of his meaning.
"Maggur Rathhausak," Raoul told her. "He's brought all Scanra's clans into his grip. This year he'll
have a real army to send against us. A real army, trained for army-style battle, instead of a basketful of
raiding parties. Plus however many of those killing devices he can send along to cut our people to shreds.
The messages from the north report at least fifty of the things, wrapped up in canvas and waiting for the
spell that will make them move again."
Kel set her chalk and slate down. Then she swallowed and asked, "The council let Maggur take
over?"
"They weren't given a choice. Maggur had nine clans under his banner last year. The word is he
smuggled them into the capital at Hamrkeng after the summer fighting and, well, persuaded the clans to
make him king." Raoul tossed his papers on the desk with a sigh. "We knew it was to be war this
summer, but we thought we'd be facing half the warriors in the country, not all of them. Jonathan's
sending messengers out to all the lords of his council. He wants our army to start north as soon as we can
manage it." The big man grinned, showing all his teeth, wolf-like. "We'll prepare the warmest reception
for our northern brothers that we can. Once they cross our border, they'll think they've marched into a