"Melanie Rawn - Dragon Prince 1 - Dragon Prince" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rawn Melanie)

at an unnatural angle, damaged in some earlier combat. As the great wings
unfurled threateningly, showing the velvety black undersides, badly healed
tears were visible as well as crooked wingbones that had not remeshed properly
after breaking. This might be the dragon's last mating, and Zehava suspected
that the beast knew it.
Nevertheless, he was capable of giving the prince a good long battle. But
Zehava understood something else about dragons. Though notoriously cunning,
they were entirely single-minded. This one wanted to mate. His fighting style
would thus be direct and unsubtle, without the tricks a dragon used once
mating was over for another three years. He had already been inhaling the
stench of his own sexuality for days during the preliminariesтАФ the sand-dance
and the cliff-dance that had attracted his females to him. His brain was
drugged now and his fighting wits would be dulled, for his one purpose was to
seed his females and this made him at once more vicious and more vulnerable.
Though Zehava had a healthy respect for those talons and teeth, he could also
grin in his anticipation of a tenth triumph. He was going to out-think this
grandsire dragon, and have a rousing good time doing it.
Fifty measures distant, in a fortress that had been carved out of solid rock
by successive generations of Zehava's family, Princess Milar sat with her
sister Lady
Andrade. The two were silent for the present; the entrance of a servant into
the solar with cool drinks and fruit had interrupted a stormy passage between
the twin sisters on the subject of Prince Rohan.
When the servant had bowed and departed, Lady Andrade flicked her long blonde
braid back over her shoulder and glared at her sister. "Stop fussing the boy!
Things are brewing in Roelstra's court that Zehava can't hope to understand,
but Rohan will!"
"Are you calling my husband a fool?" Milar snapped.
"Save your theatrics, Mila. He's a brilliant soldier and a fine man, but if
you think the coming conflict will be one of arms, think again. The Storm God
alone knows what Roelstra's planning, but it won't be something to march an
army against." She reached over and plucked a bunch of grapes from a bowl,
subjecting their ruby gloss to a critical inspection. "You may think your
princedom too rich and powerful to be threatened. But the High Prince is
constitutionally incapable of abiding anyone richer than he. And Zehava hasn't
been exactly subtle about his wealth. I heard about the birthday present he
sent Roelstra."
"It was entirely in keeping withтАФ"
"With Zehava's conceit! Two horses or even four, nicely caparisoned, would
have been fine. But twenty! And all in silver! He's flaunting his riches,
Mila, and that's dangerousтАФlike this imbecile dragon hunt today. He's killed
nine of the monsters, why does he need a tenth?"
Princess Milar wore an expression before which scores of highborns had
quailed; her face was none the less lovely for its icy hauteur. "It's his duty
to rid the Desert of dragons. It also demonstrates the cunning and strength
which are so important in war. That's politics."
"That's stupidity. Better he should have sent Rohan out to kill this dragon,
so his heir's cunning and strength are made clear." Andrade popped a grape
into her mouth and split the skin with her teeth, drawing off the sweet juices
before spitting out the remains into a silver bowl provided for the purpose.