"Katya Reimann - Tielmaran 01 - Wind from a Foreign Sky" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reimann Katya)

Book Two
Prologue
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25



Book One
Prologue
^┬╗
All through the night, and much of the day after, they fought about the baby.
"You must tell them," Mervion argued. "Tell them and there is the chance that they
will have mercy and let you go."
"I won't." Anisia refused. She was proud of her refusal. It was hard to withstand
her marriage-sister under the best of circumstancesтАФwhich these, most definitely,
were not. But it was her unborn child, not Mervion's, and it was not for Mervion to
decide what Anisia should do. "They are not to know," Anisia said. "Imagine how I
feel. We already know they took me only to guarantee your good behavior. If I tell
them about the baby, it will merely be another way to get at you. How contemptible
do you think that will make me feel, gifting them with another lever to use against
you? You won't change my mind on this."
Holding out against Mervion's arguments felt good. Anisia even felt she had
bought back a bit of self-respect with her display of obstinacy. Refusing to tell them
about the child was a noble gesture, was it not?
But these happy thoughts were now long past and gone. Now Anisia was
weeping, blinded with pain and tears. She would have done anything to stop the
pain. If the spell that held her had left her any whisper of a voice, she would have
been crying to be sparedтАФfor her baby's sake, for her own sakeтАФfor anything.
Shouts echoed around her, anxious shouts and the unfamiliar roar of broken
magic. Men running, doors slamming. Edan Heirati-kus, the Chancellor of all
Tielmark, was calling a new spell to bind the disaster, his voice a mingling of surprise
and rage.
Anisia was not awake to hear it.
Anisia opened her eyes and stared, dazed, around the dark room. The spell had
abated. Though movement was painful, she found she could sit up. Her voice was
still blocked in her throat, but the pain had gone. How much time had passed?
Anisia Blas was seventeen years old, the sheltered daughter of a gentleman soldier
and his gently born wife. Tielmark was a small country, and she had grown to