• [ Pobierz caÅ‚ość w formacie PDF ]

    '"I lair like a raven's wing, as a storm in the night . . .'" quoted Yennefer with exaggerated
    emphasis, '". . . and in the violet eyes sleep lightning bolts . . ." Isn't that how it went?'
    'That's how I remembered you.' The poet smiled faintly. 'May
    the first who wishes to claim the description is untrue throw the first stone.'
    'Only I don't know,' the Enchantress pinched her lips together, 'who gave you permission to
    describe my internal organs. How did it go? "Her heart, as though a jewel, adorned her neck.
    Hard as if of diamond made, and as a diamond so unfeeling, sharper than obsidian, cutting "
    Did you make that up yourself? Or perhaps . . .?'
    Her lips quivered, twisted.
    '. . . or perhaps you listened to someone's confidences and grievances?'
    'Hmm . . .' Dandilion cleared his throat and veered away from the dangerous subject. 'Tell me,
    Yennefer, when did you last see Geralt?'
    'A long time ago.'
    'After the war?'
    After the war . . .' Yennefer's voice changed a little. 'No, I never saw him after the war. For a
    long time ... I didn't see anybody. Well, back to the point, Poet. I am a little surprised to
    discover that you do not know anything, you have not heard anything and that, in spite of this,
    someone searching for information picked you out to stretch over a beam. Doesn't that worry
    you?'
    'It does.'
    'Listen to me,' she said sharply, banging her tumbler against the table. 'Listen carefully. Strike
    that ballad from your repertoire. Do not sing it again.'
    'Are you talking about '
    'You know perfectly well what I'm talking about. Sing about the war against Nilfgaard. Sing
    about Geralt and me, you'll neither harm nor help anyone in the process, you'll make nothing
    any better or worse. But do not sing about the Lion Cub of Cintra.'
    She glanced around to check if any of the few customers at this hour were eavesdropping, and
    waited until the lass clearing up had returned to the kitchen.
    And do try to avoid one-to-one meetings with people you
    don't know,' she said quietly. 'People who "forget" to introduce themselves by conveying
    greetings from a mutual acquaintance. Understand?'
    He looked at her surprised. Yennefer smiled.
    'Greetings from Dijkstra, Dandilion.'
    Now the bard glanced around timidly. His astonishment must have been evident and his
    expression amusing because the sorceress allowed herself a quite derisive grimace.
    'While we are on the subject,' she whispered, leaning across the table, 'Dijkstra is asking for a
    report. You're on your way back from Verden and he's interested in hearing what's being said
    at King Ervyll's court. He asked me to convey that this time your report should be to the point,
    detailed and under no circumstances in verse. Prose, Dandilion. Prose.'
    The poet swallowed and nodded. He remained silent, pondering the question.
    But the enchantress anticipated him. 'Difficult times are approaching,' she said quietly.
    'Difficult and dangerous. A time of change is coming. It would be a shame to grow old with
    the uncomfortable conviction that one had done nothing to ensure that these changes are for
    the better. Don't you agree?'
    Tie agreed with a nod and cleared his throat. 'Yennefer?'
    'I'm listening, Poet.'
    "Those men in the pigsty ... I would like to know who they were, what they wanted, who sent
    them. You killed them both, but rumour has it that you can draw information even from the
    dead.'
    'And doesn't rumour also have it that necromancy is forbidden, by edict of the Chapter? Let it
    go, Dandilion. Those thugs probably didn't know much anyway. The one who escaped . . .
    Hmm . . . He's another matter.'
    'Rience. He was a wizard, wasn't he?'
    'Yes. But not a very proficient one.'
    'Yet he managed to escape from you. I saw how he did it - he teleported, didn't he? Doesn't
    that prove anything?'
    'Indeed it does. That someone helped him. Rience had neither
    the time nor the strength to open an oval portal suspended in the air. A portal like that is no
    joke. It's clear that someone else opened it. Someone far more powerful. That's why I was
    afraid to chase him, not knowing where I would land. But I sent some pretty hot stuff after
    him. He's going to need a lot of spells and some effective burn elixirs, and will remain marked
    for some time.'
    'Maybe you will be interested to hear that he was a Nilfgaardian.'
    'You think so?' Yennefer sat up and with a swift movement pulled the stiletto from her pocket
    and turned it in her palm. 'A lot of people carry Nilfgaardian knives now. They're comfortable
    and handy - they can even be hidden in a cleavage '
    'It's not the knife. When he was questioning me he used the term "battle for Cintra", "conquest
    of the town" or something along those lines. I've never heard anyone describe those events
    like that. For us, it has always been a massacre. The Massacre of Cintra. No one refers to it by
    any other name.'
    The magician raised her hand, scrutinised her nails. 'Clever, Dandilion. You have a sensitive
    ear.'
    'It's a professional hazard.' [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

  • zanotowane.pl
  • doc.pisz.pl
  • pdf.pisz.pl
  • zambezia2013.opx.pl