"Margaret Weis & Tracy Hickman - Deathgate Cycle 4 - Serpent Mage" - читать интересную книгу автора (Weis Margaret)

"My son, had you so little faith in me? Do you, after all this time, not know
me yet? Do you not know my power? Can you truly believe that I would misuse
this gift as the Sartan have misused it?"

"Forgive me, My Lord," whispered Haplo, weak, weary, yet feeling vastly
comforted. "I have been a fool. I did not think."

"And you had a Sartan in your power. You could have brought him to me. And you
let him go, Haplo. You let him escape. But I can understand. He twisted your
mind, made you see things that were not, deceived you. I can understand. You
were sick, dying. . . ."

Shame burned. "Don't make excuses for me, My Lord," Haplo protested harshly,
his throat raw from his sobs. "I make none for myself. The poison affected my
body, not my mind. I am weak, flawed. I no longer deserve your trust."

"No, no, my son. You are not weak. The wound to which I was referring was not
the poison given to you by the dynast, but the poison fed to you by the
Sartan, Alfred. A far more insidious poison, one that affects the mind, not
the body. It inflicted the injury of which I spoke earlier. But that wound is
drained now, is it not, my son?"

Xar's fingers twined through Haplo's hair.

The Patryn looked up at his master. The old man's face was lined and marked
with his toils, his tireless battles against the powerful magic of the
Labyrinth. The skin did not sag, however, the jaw was strong and firm, the
nose jutted out from the face like the tearing beak of a fierce flesh-eating
bird. The eyes were bright and wise and hungry.

"Yes," said Haplo, "the wound is drained."

"And now it must be cauterized, to prevent the infection from returning."

A scraping sound came from outside the door. The dog, hearing a tone of dire
threat in the lord's voice, jumped to its feet, prepared to come to its
master's defense.

"Dog, stay," Haplo ordered. He braced himself, bowed his head.

The Lord of the Nexus reached down, took hold of Haplo's shirt, and, with one
tear, rent the fabric in two, laying bare Haplo's back and shoulders. The
runes tattooed on his flesh began to glow slightly, red and blue, his body's
involuntary reaction to danger, to what he knew was coming.

He clenched his jaw, remained on his knees. The glow of the sigla on his body
slowly faded. He lifted his head, fixed his gaze, calm and steadfast, upon his
lord.
"I accept my punishment. May it do me good, My Lord."