"Elizabeth Vaughan - Chronicles Of The Warlands 01 - Warprize" - читать интересную книгу автора (Vaughan Elizabeth)

for people, this was a small pleasure of my trade, brewing elixirs that would ease pain and restore health.
The closest IтАЩd ever come to magic, that was certain. It gave me a true sense of being needed and a real
feeling of accomplishment.

I was yawning madly by the time the orchid root was ready to be poured into the small bottles that I had
prepared. Moving carefully, I filled each to the neck and stoppered them loosely. The corks could be
tightened once the bottles were fully cooled. The last thing was the feverтАЩs foe. The paste had to be
spooned into small jars and sealed with wax. I put the wax to melt, and started to work. It seemed to
take forever, but eventually I was perched on my stool, pouring the sealing wax over the last of the jars.

A knock came at the door, and Othur entered. He looked tired as well, with bags under his eyes. I
smiled at him as I set down the wax pot. He stood there, rubbed his face with both hands and sighed.

тАЬLong night?тАЭ I blew out the flame and gathered up a few of the jars to move to the storage shelves
behind me.

Othur nodded. тАЬThe King talked alone with the Warlord for hours and has been closeted with the
Council ever since.

TheyтАЩve been at it, hammer and tongs, for some time. TheyтАЩve sent for you.тАЬ

I put down the last jar, and turned. тАЬMe?тАЭ I blinked at him owlishly, surprised. тАЬWhy?тАЭ

There was a bitterness in his eyes as he shrugged. тАЬI donтАЩt know. But he wants to see you now.тАЭ My
father had allowed Othur in all the councils and his opinion had been asked for and taken seriously.
Xymund had removed the privilege when heтАЩd taken the throne. Yet another reason for Anna to dislike
him so.

I quickly finished cleaning the work area, and blew out the rest of the lamps and candles. Othur stood to
one side and held the door. I slipped past him, smoothing down the front of my jerkin as I went. There
were wax droplets and other stains, not to mention the smell, but the council was just going to have to
settle for my work clothes if they wanted a status report about the prisoners at this hour. My jaw cracked
in a yawn as I followed Othur through the back halls.

We arrived at the doors only to hear a heated argument going on inside. Othur and I exchanged looks,
but made no comment. It did seem to me that Xymund spent more time arguing with his advisors instead
of listening.

The guard nodded and opened the door to let me in. The conversation stopped abruptly as the door
swung open.

Once again I found myself kneeling before my brother. But when I was granted permission to rise,
Xymund was standing looking out the window. He was in formal dress, standing stiff and straight in front
of the huge window. His hands were clenched behind his back. I glanced around. It seemed that the
entire council was crowded about the room. Lord Marshall Warren was there, along with Archbishop
Drizen. Drizen was seated by the hearth and dressed in formal vestments, with Deacon Browdus beside
him. Everyone looked tired and worn. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught side glances being
exchanged. There was a tension, as if everyone was avoiding looking at me. Something was very, very
wrong.