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The Wizardwar :: Каннингем Элейн
Страница: 162 из 208" She caught the hem of Matteo's tunic as he turned toward the throne. "Does he know about me? That I'm the queen's daughter?"
Matteo hesitated. "He learned this not long ago, yes."
"Will he let me walk out of here? Halruaa's laws don't exactly embrace people like me."
"Zalathorm is a lawful king, but he is also a powerful diviner. If he acted upon everything he knew about his subjects, he would soon have no kingdom to rule."
"Cynical, but probably true." She blew out a long breath and tried not to dwell upon the things Matteo was so obviously not telling her. The man had no talent for lying-he couldn't even hold something back without looking pained.
That was one of the reasons she trusted him and why she followed him into the throne room of Halruaa's king.
Zalathorm's gaze flicked toward the newcomers, then slid to his seneschal. The blue-robed man immediately strode over to the guards, who ushered out the still-angry wizards with promises of a swift resolution. He followed them out and shut the chamber doors, leaving the two young people alone with the king.
Matteo dipped into a low bow, which Tzigone imitated deftly and precisely. It occurred to her, too late, that a jordain's bow and an apprentice wizard's were two very different things. The king didn't seem to notice, but Matteo's expression-quickly mastered-couldn't have been more horrified if Tzigone had drop-kicked the king's favorite hunting dog.
The jordain hastily cleared his throat. "Your majesty, this is Tzigone, apprentice to Lord Basel."
Zalathorm rose from the throne and took her hand. "Welcome, child. How can I serve the hero of Akhlaur's Swamp?"
"Tell me about my mother," she blurted out. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Matteo blanch at this egregious broach of protocol. Most likely, a string of fancy phrases was required before getting to the point.
To her surprise, the king merely nodded. He led the way to an alcove with several chairs and waited until all were settled.
"Where would you like to begin?"
"Did you know her before she left the city, her tower?"
"No," the king said. "I had heard her name, of course, for Keturah was considered a master of evocation and a wizard likely to ascend to the Council of Elders at a remarkably young age. But in the years preceding Queen Fiordella's death, I had become something of a recluse."
"How did you meet?"
"A chance meeting during her exile. She presented herself as a wizard tired of magic's demands and in need of solitude."
"That's it?" Tzigone said incredulously.
Matteo hesitated. "He learned this not long ago, yes."
"Will he let me walk out of here? Halruaa's laws don't exactly embrace people like me."
"Zalathorm is a lawful king, but he is also a powerful diviner. If he acted upon everything he knew about his subjects, he would soon have no kingdom to rule."
"Cynical, but probably true." She blew out a long breath and tried not to dwell upon the things Matteo was so obviously not telling her. The man had no talent for lying-he couldn't even hold something back without looking pained.
That was one of the reasons she trusted him and why she followed him into the throne room of Halruaa's king.
Zalathorm's gaze flicked toward the newcomers, then slid to his seneschal. The blue-robed man immediately strode over to the guards, who ushered out the still-angry wizards with promises of a swift resolution. He followed them out and shut the chamber doors, leaving the two young people alone with the king.
Matteo dipped into a low bow, which Tzigone imitated deftly and precisely. It occurred to her, too late, that a jordain's bow and an apprentice wizard's were two very different things. The king didn't seem to notice, but Matteo's expression-quickly mastered-couldn't have been more horrified if Tzigone had drop-kicked the king's favorite hunting dog.
The jordain hastily cleared his throat. "Your majesty, this is Tzigone, apprentice to Lord Basel."
Zalathorm rose from the throne and took her hand. "Welcome, child. How can I serve the hero of Akhlaur's Swamp?"
"Tell me about my mother," she blurted out. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Matteo blanch at this egregious broach of protocol. Most likely, a string of fancy phrases was required before getting to the point.
To her surprise, the king merely nodded. He led the way to an alcove with several chairs and waited until all were settled.
"Where would you like to begin?"
"Did you know her before she left the city, her tower?"
"No," the king said. "I had heard her name, of course, for Keturah was considered a master of evocation and a wizard likely to ascend to the Council of Elders at a remarkably young age. But in the years preceding Queen Fiordella's death, I had become something of a recluse."
"How did you meet?"
"A chance meeting during her exile. She presented herself as a wizard tired of magic's demands and in need of solitude."
"That's it?" Tzigone said incredulously.