Читать книгу Peril’s Gate - Janny Wurts, Janny Wurts - Страница 25

Covered by night in the forest of Halwythwood, a clan rider leaps from a steaming mare, bearing urgent word from the north. ‘Morvain’s got a war host on the march in Daon Ramon, and headhunters ride out of Narms, led by Lysaer s’Ilessid himself. Find a fast horse and a rider double quick. Lord Jieret must be told he’s going to receive swarms of unwanted company at Ithamon…’

Two hours before dawn, Asandir twines talisman spells like fired ribbon between layers of a water-smoothed bit of quartz; once the power coils in balance at the heart of the pebble, he sets his work into concealment with a blessing rune drawn in Paravian, then places the construct on the windowsill, where an owl swoops down on silent wings, then flies off with the stone clutched in needle-sharp talons…

In the royal suite of Avenor’s state palace, Lord Koshlin bows, ending his private audience with Princess Ellaine, and moved to pity by her terrified pallor, advises: ‘Your Grace, the contents of that document are too damaging to set into a letter. I recommend that you burn the evidence at once, and trust me to bear word of the sensitive issue back to your father in Erdane…’