"John Maddox Roberts - Stormlands 02- The Black Shield" - читать интересную книгу автора (Roberts John Maddox)

This was something she most admired in Gasam: he never took offense at her words of caution. A lesser
man might have thought them an insult to his warrior pride, but not Gasam. He preferred winning through
trickery or intimidation or careful planning. He knew well the attrition of warfare, and the difficulty of
replacing good warriors. Long campaigning was entirely different from the infrequent, exciting clashes of
their tribal days. Gasam believed in boldness and caution equally.

"In the meantime," she suggested, "it would be wise to send spies to keep you informed of the king's
preparations. Small merchants would be best. They travel everywhere and see everything."

"A fine idea." Gasam pondered for a while. "I will be busy with my army for much of the time. You may
organize the spies. Use many and reward them well. Keep their identities secret from each other. A
number of spies sent to the same location will be a hedge against deception, should their accounts vary
too greatly."

"I think I'll enjoy this," Larissa said. Why should warriors have all the excitement of conquest? This could
be as important to the king's destiny as battles and armies.

Gasam surveyed the new slave women idly, his gaze returning to Dunyaz. He beckoned and she came to
his side, her skin quivering slightly under his caress.

"You are free-born, little one?" he asked gently.

"Noble-born, Master," she said, losing all the self-assured arrogance she had shown with the queen.

"There were very few slaves among my own people," he said, his voice absent, as if speaking of some
long-ago memory. "We are not like the main-landers, who often act and speak as if their slaves were not
present. We do not forget that slaves are people with ears, and minds." Then sharply: "Do you
understand me?"

"I will never speak outside the palace of what I hear, Master. I swear it." There was desperation in her
voice.

"That would be very wise. Think of the very

worst thing that could happen to you. Then consider the fact that what you are thinking is as nothing
compared to what will happen to you if you should ever betray us." His eyes were full of death.

When he was gone the queen set her women to their tasks and bade Dunyaz attend her.

"You understand that the king did not speak idly." It was not a question.

"I know that is true," Dunyaz said, her composure restored.

"Good. Now tell me about the king of Neva. What is he like and how did he come to be king?"

The queen was still sprawled on the couch, so Dunyaz sat on a cushion at its head, folding her legs
demurely beneath her.

"The king is named Pashir. He is of the great royal family, the Halazid, but most of the great nobles are.