"Paul Thompson - [Elven Nations Trilogy 2] - The Kinslaye" - читать интересную книгу автора (Thompson Paul B)

breathed a deep sighтАУa sound of contentment and satisfaction. The two of them stood
alone, six hundred feet above the city, atop the Tower of the Stars, beneath the brilliant
light shower of its namesake.
Her mouth, with its round lips so unusually full for an elf, was creased by the trace of
a smileтАУa sly, secret smile that he found strangely beguiling. She stood beside him,
touching a hand to his chest and leaning her head on his shoulder.
He smelled her hair, rich with the scent of lilacs, yet in color as bright as copper. Her
smooth skin glowed with a milky luminescence, and he felt her warm lips upon his neck.
A warm rush of desire swept through him, fading only slightly as she relaxed and stood
beside him in silence.
Sithas thought of his volatile wifeтАУhow pleasant it was to have her come to him thus,
and how rare such instances had been in the past. Hermathya was a proud and beautiful
elf woman, used to getting her own way. Sometimes he wondered if she regretted their
marriage, arranged by their parents. Once, he knew, she had been the lover of his
brotherтАУindeed, Kith-Kanan had rebelled against his father's authority and fled Silvanost
when her engagement to Sithas had been announced. Did she ever regret her choice?
How well had she calculated her future as wife of the Speaker of the Stars? He did not
knowтАУperhaps, in fact, he was afraid to ask her.
"Have you seen my cousin yet?" she asked after a few minutes.
"Lord Quimant? Yes, he came to the Hall of Balif earlier today. I must say, he seems
to have an excellent grip on the problems of weapon production. He knows mining,
smelting, and smithing. His aid is much needed ... and would be much appreciated. We
are not a nation of weaponsmiths like the dwarves."
"Clan Oakleaf has long made the finest of elven blades," Hermathya replied proudly.
"That is known throughout Silvanesti."
"It is not the quality that worries me, my dear. It is in the quantity of weapons that
we lag sadly behind the humans, and the dwarves. We cleaned out the royal armories in
order to outfit the last regiments we sent to the west."
"Quimant will solve your problems, I'm certain. Will he be coming to Silvanost?"
The estate of Clan Oakleaf lay to the north of the elven capital, near the mines where
they excavated the iron for their small foundries. The clan, the central power behind
House Metalline, was the primary producer of weapons-quality steel in the kingdom of
Silvanesti. Lately its influence had grown, due to the necessity of increased weapons
production brought on by the war. The mines were worked by slaves, mostly human and
Kagonesti elves, but this was a fact Sithas had to accept because of his nation's emergency.
Lord Quimant, the son of Hermathya's eldest uncle, was being groomed as the
spokesman and leader of Clan Oakleaf, and his services for the estate were important.
"I believe he will. I've offered him chambers in the palace, as well as incentives for
the Oakleaf clanтАУmineral rights, steady supplies of coal ... and labor."
"It would be wonderful to have some of my family around again." Hermathya's voice
rose, joyful as a young girl's. "This can be such a lonely place, with all of your attention
directed to the war."
He lowered his hand, sliding it along the smooth silk of her gown, down her back,
his strong fingers caressing her. She sighed and held him tighter. "Well, maybe not all of
your attention," she added, with a soft laugh.
Sithas wanted to tell her what a comfort she had been to him, how much she had
eased the burdens of his role as leader of the elven nation. He wondered at the change
that had come over her, but he said nothing. That was his nature, and perhaps his
weakness.
It was Hermathya who next spoke.