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about the ruin of our family. The ruin of your future.
 Father, if I can make this happen, my future and our family will be secure for generations to come. You
know that.
 Which is why I agreed to let you risk this harebrained idea in the first place, Fickett growled.  But my
patience is wearing thin. If you had followed my instructions at the beginning we wouldn t be in this
situation. And if I do not see some definitive action from you in the very near future, I am calling it off
entirely and we are going to revert to my original plan before it s too late.
 Father. Kumire s voice lowered to a hiss, and Talon had to strain to hear his next few words.  You
realize that your plan could throw the entire kingdom into civil war.
 Maybe that s just what Ithyria needs! the Monderan governor shouted, before apparently
remembering that they were supposed to be speaking in secret and lowering his voice again.  The people
of this country have grown soft. They ve been too comfortable, living their little peaceful lives for so many
winters now that they ve started to invent problems where there are none just to have something to
entertain themselves. Up to this point the King hasn t been too difficult to handle, but I worry about his
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softhearted weakling of a daughter. They re both a disgrace to the house of Rane.
 I don t want to see Ithyria in their hands any more than you do.
 Then prove it. Step up and be a man for once in your miserable life.
Talon drew a little closer to the door to hear Kumire s reply, forgetting that her hands were still on the
cart. The slight movement was enough to jar a spoon resting by her fingertips. It wasn t a loud noise, but
the spoon still made a definite metallic clank against the serving tray.
 What was that?
Talon managed to straighten herself and push the cart down the corridor several steps before the door
opened and Kumire appeared. The chancellor glared at Talon suspiciously.  What are you doing out
here, boy? he demanded.
Talon shrugged as casually as she could and waved a hand at the cart.  The Princess was hungry.
Chancellor Kumire narrowed his eyes but did not inquire further. After staring Talon down for several
moments, he sniffed imperiously.  Well, don t just stand around here, then. Get on with it.
Talon gave him a nod she hoped would appear respectful and continued pushing the cart around the
corner toward the conference room.
 It s about time, Shasta cheered, launching herself at the tray of snacks the moment Talon wheeled it
into sight.  What were you doing down there for so long, anyway, flirting with all the kitchen staff?
She didn t wait for a reply, stuffing a strawberry into her mouth. Then, fastening her golden brown eyes
on Talon as if she thought better of her manners, she raised the next berry with daintily manicured fingers
and bit the end from the fruit, letting the scarlet juice stain her fingertips and lips. Talon caught a flash of
white teeth and little pink tongue as she tucked the morsel into her mouth, and she realized the Princess
was flirting with her again. Apparently, even in the middle of a political battle, Shasta was happy to
continue their own more personal war.
Talon kept her expression neutral and picked up one of the trays from the cart, placing it before the
King. She wondered if she should tell him what she d overheard. Archduke Fickett and Chancellor
Kumire were conspiring against the throne, possibly against the Princess herself. Kumire had even
mentioned civil war. But it would be Talon s word against Kumire s, and without proof she wasn t sure
the King would believe her. Until she had something more solid to go on it would be a bad idea to go
around making accusations of treason.
The viceroys had begun to file back into the conference room, and Talon resumed her stance outside the
door. She passed Fickett in the doorway and met his gaze evenly. She wasn t afraid of the old weasel.
To get to Shasta he would have to go through her first. Talon would take great satisfaction in running him
through, and his cloying, obnoxious son, too, if it came to that.
Fickett seemed not to notice her stare and brushed past her into the room. Talon took her place against
the outer wall and sighed as the door closed once more. It was going to be another long afternoon.
*
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Qiturah sank gladly onto the prayer cushion in her small chamber, settling her feet comfortably beneath
her before lifting her hands into prayer position. She always looked forward to her private meditation in
the evenings, and tonight she was in great need of some quiet rejuvenation.
It had been a very long day. An influx of refugees from the southern coast had arrived midmorning,
seeking shelter in the Great Temple. Their village had been burned in yet another petty conflict between
feudal lords. Qiturah didn t care what the battle had been about. She was infinitely more concerned that
they now had nearly fifty starving, terrified people under their roof, a few of them with severe injuries.
The priestesses would do what they could, of course, but there was little left, even in the temple gardens,
to feed such a crowd.
 Y kurakura nasiaa, y vysashun lo siriaa&  The words of the Ithyrian chant soothed her, as they always
did. She could feel the Goddess moving to embrace her, and she welcomed the familiar, sweet touch
upon her mind. Qiturah relaxed into it gratefully.Divine Lady, Goddess of my heart, I need Your love so
badly tonight. Please, Lady, give me the wisdom to lead Your Daughters, Your people, through this time
of darkness. I cannot manage it alone.
She felt Ithyris respond immediately. Peace crept blissfully over her body, calming her mind, her
heartbeat, her breathing, and wrapping her in the delicious, overwhelming sensation of being loved. Those
who said the life of a priestess was painfully chaste had never felt Ithyris moving inside them the way
Qiturah did. She could not imagine ever loving another human being the way she loved her beautiful
Goddess. Nothing could compare to the sheer glory of Ithyris s presence, the feeling of being surrounded
by unadulterated purity and light.
But tonight, Qiturah was to receive an even more special gift.
 Julias yi shaa ri, y Ostryn. The musical words sounded in her ears and Qiturah nearly jumped in
surprise. She knew only one voice like that, so rich and lyrical that it sang rather than spoke.
 Sweet Ithyris, she gasped, so startled that she forgot to use the Ithyrian tongue. The Goddess rarely
spoke so clearly, unless there was something She wanted, and the command was one Qiturah had been
hoping for.  Oh, speak to me again, Lady, please. She waited breathlessly. Though she had understood
the first time, of course, Qiturah craved the sound of that voice again. It had been many winters since
she d last heard it.
 Julias yi shaa ri, the words repeated, and Qiturah felt tears spring to her eyes. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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