"Sherwood Smith - Crown and Court Duet - 01 - Crown Duel" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith Sherwood)

tower stairs. Bran was just behind me. Neither of us spoke as we toiled round and round, up to the little
room at the top of the tallest tower of our castle. The cold was bitter, promising a fierce winter. As I ran I
pulled my blanket tighter, tucking the ends through the rope I used as a sash.

The fourth round brought us to Papa's room. To my surprise he was completely aloneтАФthe villagers who
had taken turns sitting with him had been sent awayтАФand the windows were wide open. Despite two of
our three precious Fire Sticks burning brightly in the fireplace and on a makeshift brazier near the bed,
the room was shockingly cold.

"PapaтАФ" I cried, flinging myself down by the high, narrow bed. "It's not good for you to be so cold when
you're sickтАФ"

"Leave it, child." His voice was just a whisper. "I want to die hearing the windharps. Already the Hill Folk
mourn me ..."

I heard it then, a faint, steady humming on the wintry breeze, carried down from the distant mountain
peaks. The sound was eerie but strangely calming, and I turned away from the window, the cold air
forgotten.

"PapaтАФ" That was Bran.

Our father's gray beard stirred as he turned his head. He gave Bran a weak, tired smile, no more than a
twitching of the lips, and it wrenched at my heart. "Be not sad, my boy. Be pleased," Papa said slowly.
"The Hill Folk honor me. All my life I have kept the Covenant, and I shall die keeping it. They know it,
and they send their music to guide my spirit from the mortal realm."

I took his hand, which felt cold and dry. Pressing it against my cheek, I said, "But Papa, you are not to
worry about Greedy Galdran's tax demand. I've found a way to pay itтАФI just finished!"

The gnarled fingers briefly gripped my hand. "It's no longer time for taxes, child. It's time to go to war.
Galdran's demand was not meant to be fulfilled. It was an excuse. His cousin wants our lands."

"But we're not ready," I protested numbly. "Just one more yearтАФ" I heard the scrape of a shoe behind
me, and Bran touched my shoulder.

Papa smiled wearily. "Meliara. Branaric and Khesot know the time is come, but that is what they are
trained for. Indeed, daughter, they are ready because of the help you have given them this past year."

I fell silent, and he looked from me to my brother and then back, and then spoke slowly and with
increasing difficulty.

"Remember, my children ... although your mother chose to adopt into my family, she was a Calahanras ...
the last of the very finest royal house ever to rule Remalna. If she had wanted, she could have raised her
banner, and half the kingdom would have risen, gladly, in her name. You two are half Calahanras. You
have her wit, and her brains. You can take Remalna, and you will be better rulers than any Merindar ever
was."

I stared at my father, not knowing what to say. To think. It was the first time he had mentioned our
mother since that horrible day, nearly ten years ago, when the news had come that she had died so
suddenly and mysteriously while on a journey to the capital, Remalna-city.