"Brian Thomsen - The Nobles 04 - The Mage in the Iron Mask" - читать интересную книгу автора (Thomsen Brian M)

Volo chuckled at his friend's naivete.
"If you say so, my friend," the gazetteer replied.
"True love conquers all," the thespian spouted.
The master traveler took another quaff of ale, and was instantly reminded of the message
he had once read from a Kara Turan fate biscuit that was capa-ble of more believable
profundity than his corpulent companion's observation.
Volo thought aloud to himself, "I wonder how the newlyweds are getting along."
Passepout resumed eating.
 2
Newlywed Games

In the High Blade's Study in the Tower of the Wyvern:

He was alone in his private study, a room secret to all but his closest advisors (which did
not include his wife, the Tharchioness). His robes of silk and fur al-ready smelled of tobacco
and musk.
Selfaril Voumdolphin was in deep thought.
The resemblance was striking. It was almost like looking in a mirror. True he had the
bearing and build of a weakling, as most wizards did, and his whiskers and his mane were
more akin to a hermit's than the well-maintained locks and beard of the High Blade, but in all
other respects this young man was the High Blade's perfect twin.
Damn you, father, he thought to himself, cursing his sire. You were almost the perfect
High Blade, al-ways with a secret backup plan to assure your own ascendancy and that of
your line. We were alike in many ways. No wonder I had to kill you. Had I not acted
fortuitously, you would, no doubt, have dis-cerned my future plans and plotted to replace me
with your other son. We are alike in many ways, but I am the better High Blade.
He heard the bookcase that functioned as a secret door move, and assumed that
Rickman had re-turned, as the Hawk commander was the only one other than himself who
knew how to work that en-trance. He did not bother to turn around. Such things as common
courtesy were not required of the High Blade.
"The resemblance was uncanny," Selfaril mut-tered.
"Yes, your majesty," Rickman agreed. "Donal, that chancre, wasn't lying."
"Imagine his gall," Selfaril said, finally turning to face his one-eyed right-hand man. "First,
he be-trayed the Retreat and offered the young mage to the agents of my dear bride, and
then, not satisfied with the price they offered, he came to us for a better deal."
"For which you were more than willing to comply, sire," the Hawk assented. "They offered
him amnesty, we offered him wealth."
"And neither of us planned on keeping our word, anyway. Donal was a fool, and a greedy
one at that."
"Agreed, your majesty, but his shortcomings were definitely our advantage."
"Indeed," the High Blade agreed, taking a seat in a chair that had been one of his father's
favorites. "Have you taken care of the rest of the loose ends?"
"Yes, sire," the Hawk captain assured. "A company of my best men have just returned
from the Retreat. They gained entrance under the pretence of investi-gating the apparent
Thayan raid of the night before. The elders were ever so grateful for a prompt re-sponse to
the attack, and offered my men their full cooperation. With their guard down, it was relatively
easy for my Hawks to carry out your orders."
"All slaughtered, then?"
"Yes, sire."
The High Blade tapped his forefinger to his temple as if to force out a single drop of