Ведьмак: Кровь эльфов

           Thewindgentlyflutteredtheloweredsailsofthedrakkars,andsmoke,quelledbydrizzle,floatedabovethelanding-stage.TriremesfromCintraweresailingintotheport,goldenlionsglisteningonblueflags.UncleCrach,whowasstandingnexttoherwithhishand-aslargeasthepawofagrizzlybear–onhershoulder,suddenlyfelltooneknee.Warriors,standinginrows,rhythmicallystrucktheirshieldswiththeirswords.

           Alongthegang-planktowardsthemcameQueenCalanthe.Hergrandmother.ShewhowasofficiallycalledArdRhena,theHighestQueen,ontheIslesofSkellige.ButUncleCrachanCraite,theEarlofSkellige,stillkneelingwithbowedhead,greetedtheLionessofCintrawithatitlewhichwaslessofficialbutconsideredbytheislanderstobemorevenerable.

           "Hail,Modron."

           "Princess,"saidCalantheinacoldandauthoritativevoice,withoutsomuchasaglanceattheearl,"comehere.Comeheretome,Ciri."

           Hergrandmother’shandwasasstrongandhardasaman’s,herringscoldasice.

           "WhereisEist?"

           "TheKing…"stammeredCrach."Isatsea,Modron.Heislookingfortheremains…Andthebodies.Sinceyesterday…"

           "Whydidheletthem?"shoutedthequeen."Howcouldheallowit?Howcouldyouallowit,Crach?You’retheEarlofSkellige!Nodrakkarisallowedtogoouttoseawithoutyourpermission!Whydidyouallowit,Crach?"

           UncleCrachbowedhisheadevenlower.