"03 - Legacy of the Sword" - читать интересную книгу автора (Roberson Jennifer)

And he did know cities. He knew Mujhara very well
indeed, for all he preferred to live away from it. He had, of
late, little choice in his living arrangements.

Donal sighed. / think Carillon will see to it my wings are

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12 Jennifer Roberson

clipped, my talons filed ... or perhaps he will pen me in a
kennel, like his hunting dogs.

And who would complain about a kennel as fine as
Homana-Mujhar ?

The question was unspoken, yet clearly understood by
Donal. He had heard similar comments from others, many
tiroes before. Yet this one came not from any human companion
but from the wolf padding at the stallion's side-
Padding, not slinking; not as if the wolf avoided unwanted
contact. He did not stalk, did not hunt, did not run from man
or horse. He paced the stallion like a well-tamed hound
accompanying a beloved master, but the wolf was no dog.
Nor was he particularly tame.

He was not a delicate animal, but spare, with no flesh
beyond that which supported his natural strength and quick-
ness. The brassy sunlight of a foggy coastal late afternoon
tipped his ruddy pelt with the faintest trace of bronze. His
eyes were partially lidded, showing half-moons of brown and
black.

/ would complain about the kennel regardless of its aspect,
Donal declared. So would you. Lorn.

An echo of laughter crossed the link that bound man to
animal. So I would, the wolf agreed. But then Homana-
Mujhar will be kennel to me as well as to you. once you have
taken the throne.

That is not the point, Donal protested. The point is. Caril-
lon begins to make more demands on my time. He takes me
away from the Keep. Council meetings, policy sessions . . .
all those boring petition hearingsЧ

But the wolf cut him off. Does he have a choice^
Donal opened his mouth to answer aloud, prepared to
contest me question. But chose to say nothing, aware of the
familiar twinge of guilt that always accompanied less than