"Joan D. Vinge - Eyes of Amber" - читать интересную книгу автора (Vinge Joan D)

"That should be obvious. I'm tired of coming second. I want what he
hasтАФyour lands, and all the rest. I want him out of my way, and I don't
want anyone else left with a better claim to his inheritance than I have."
 "Why not do it yourself? Poison them, perhaps . . . it's been done
before."
"No. Klovhiri has too many friends, too many loyal clansmen, too much
influence with the Overlord. It has to be an 'accidental' murder. And no
one would be better suited than you, my lady, to do it for me."
T'uupieh nodded vaguely, assessing. No one could be better chosen for a
desire to succeed than she . . . and also, for a position from which to strike.
All she had lacked until now was the opportunity. From the time she had
been dispossessed, through the fading days of autumn and the endless
winterтАФfor nearly a third of her life nowтАФshe had haunted the wild
swamp and fenland of her estate. She had gathered a few faithful servants,
a few malcontents, a few cutthroats, to harry and murder Klovhiri's
retainers, ruin his phib nets, steal from his snares and poach her own
game. And for survival, she had taken to robbing whatever travelers took
the roads that passed through her lands.
Because she was still nobility, the Overlord had at first tolerated, and
then secretly encouraged, her banditry. Many wealthy foreigners traveled
the routes that crossed her estate, and for a certain commission, he
allowed her to attack them with impunity. It was a sop, she knew, thrown
to her because he had let his favorite, Klovhiri, have her lands. But she
used it to curry what favor she could, and after a time the Overlord had
begun to bring her more discreet and profitable businessтАФthe elimination
of certain enemies. And so she had become an assassin as wellтАФand found
that the calling was not so very different from that of noble: both required
nerve, and cunning, and an utter lack of compunction. And because she
was T'uupieh, she had succeeded admirably. But because of her vendetta,
the rewards had been small . . until now.
"You do not answer," Chwiul was saying. "Does that mean your nerve
fails you, in kith-murder, where mine does not?"
She laughed sharply. "That you say it proves twice that your judgment
is poorer than mine. . . . No, my nerve does not fail me. Indeed, my blood
burns with desire! But I hadn't thought to lay Klovhiri under the ice just to
give my lands to his brother. Why should I do that favor for you?"
"Because obviously you cannot do it alone. Klovhiri hasn't managed to
have you killed, in all the time you've plagued him; which is a testament to
your skill. But you've made him too wary тАФyou can't get near him, when
he keeps himself so well protected. You need the cooperation of someone
who has his trustтАФ someone like myself. I can make him yours."
"And what will be my reward, if I accept? Revenge is sweet; but revenge
is not enough."
"I will pay what you ask."
"My estate." She smiled.
"Even you are not so naiveтАФ"
"No." She stretched a wing toward nothing in the air. "I am not so
naive. I know its value ..." The memory of a golden-clouded summer's day
caught herтАФof soaring, soaring, on the warm up-drafts above the
streaming lake . . . seeing the fragile rose-red of the manor towers