The Irda Read Online Free PDF

demand.
    Animal herders were all that were necessary for the raids on human settlements. And the raids on the elven lands, deep in the forests to the south, were easily handled by thieves. The things that could be stolen, beautiful carvings and thick, lustrous cloth, could not be matched anywhere on the continent of Ansalon, but the elves themselves, with their stoic demeanor and their unwavering devotion to goodness, made terrible slaves.
    “Jyrbian . . .” She touched his forearm. Hard muscle rippled under his indigo skin. “Come and eat dinner with me. We’ll go up on the parapets afterward and look at the stars. I have something to tell you. And something I’d like you to help me
do
.”
    Laughing at her with his pale eyes, Jyrbian slipped his fingers under her sleeve and stroked the soft flesh of her wrist. “You’re the most beautiful woman here tonight,” he whispered, “the most beautiful woman in Takar.”
    She laughed. Khallayne knew he’d probably uttered the same words to every woman with whom he’d spoken since the party had begun at sundown; certainly he had said them to her every time they’d crossed paths for the past twenty years. And as she had answered for all those years, now she answered smugly, “I know.”
    “We do make a perfect pair,” he murmured, holding up her hand, admiring the darkness of his wrist against skin the pale green of sea foam. “Like day and night. Unfortunately . . . I hope you will forgive my bluntness, but there are more important dinner partners in the room. As my brother is so fond of reminding me, I must be mindful of my duties—and my fortune.” He brought her hand up to his lips, kissed her knuckles, then wheeled away smartly.
    “Jyrbian . . . !” Left standing on the stairs, Khal-layne watched in disbelief as he bounded down the steps, his long silver hair, braided warrior-style, swaying back and forth across his shoulders.
    Khallayne’s fingers twitched, itching to be at work in the air, inscribing some terrible spell.
    “He’s trying to get a special assignment from the Ruling Council.”
    Khallayne had forgotten Lyrralt was nearby. Ab-sentmindedly, she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. “I don’t understand how you can tolerate him sometimes,” she said coolly, watching Jyrbian’s progress through the crowd. “You know sooner or later, the thought will occur to him that the easiest way to ‘make his fortune’ is to inherit it.”
    Across the room, Jyrbian joined a group of Ogres standing near the steps to the throne platform. A young woman dressed in a fancy tunic immediately took his arm.
    The words of a spell, one they had used when they were children, which made the skin sting as if nettled, leapt to Khallayne’s lips. She had not thought of it in fifty years, hadn’t used it in a hundred, but it would be very interesting to see whether Jyrbian could be as charming if she sent it spiraling through the air. She could almost taste the words, then forgot them as Lyrralt spoke.
    He faced her with a mock look of remonstrance wrinkling his forehead. “My father’s minor nobility and wealth isn’t enough to suit Jyrbian. He’s aiming much higher these days. And so far, all it has gotten him is an errand that will make him miss the slave races next week.”
    “What errand?”
    The closeness of her body, the warmth of her breast against his arm had the effect she desired.
    Lyrralt covered her hand with his and leaned closer, answering as if he were not aware of the words. “Some fool errand to Khal-Theraxian for Lord Teragrym.”
    As he said “Teragrym,” she turned her face away, afraid that he would see the change in her expression, in her smile. Surely she must look like a wolf, ready to pounce. “Yes, I’ve heard talk,” she said, “about the governor of Khal-Theraxian. Something about a new method of working his slaves that has increased production.”
    She composed her expression, molding it to a flirtatious one.