"Bertin,.Joanne.-.The.Last.Dragonlord.(1998).ShareConnector.com" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bertin Joanne)

"Luck to you, Linden."
The Lady's voice came from behind him. A deeper voice echoed her. Linden looked over his shoulder.
The Lady and Kelder stood together. She leaned on her soultwin's arm, her head cocked to one side. "I've a feeling that there's something you must do in this matter, Linden, but I don't know what. I wishЧ"
A ringing cry cut her off. They watched Tarlna, now a pale yellow dragon, spring from the cliff. Varn and some of the other kir brought up Linden's bundles.
The Lady spoke again. "Go, little one. Once againЧluck to you. And keep your eyes open."
Linden ran to take his place at the cliff's edge. Varn helped him arrange the bundles. A quick clasp of hands, a whispered, "Good luck," and Varn ran back. To Linden's amusement, everyone moved much further back than before.
For pity's sake, I'm not that large! he thought.
He let his mind empty, freeing his thoughts to savor Change. He felt his mind and body melt and flow. For a moment he was weightless, nothing more than a breath of air, a wisp ready to drift apart on a breeze. If something should distract him now, or cold iron pierce the mist he'd become, he'd be lost.
A thrill of terror stole through him, an old, familiar friend, spice added to the wonder that was Change.
Then, as always so quickly he could never put his ringer on the moment it happened, the tenuous feeling evaporated and he was solid once more.
He craned his long neck around. Maybe he was that large after all; he covered nearly twice the area the others had. His scaled hide, the wine-red of his Marking, glistened in the sun. He seized his packs in his claws and opened his mouth, tasting the air. The wind called; he leaped to meet it.
The silken, sensuous feel of the air filling his wings delighted him. A few powerful strokes caught the same current Kief and Tarlna rode. He soared up toward the summer sun. The air was warm and to his dragon senses tasted of honey and wine. He threw back his head and trumpeted.
Kief and Tarlna wove their voices around his. Their harmony filled the air, echoing from the mountain peaks as one by one they wheeled in the sky and flew south.

Three

Maurynna shook her head to clear it as she left her cabin. She'd had the oddest dream last night; a pity it had faded upon waking, leaving behind only vague hints that vanished even as she snatched at them.
She inhaled deeply; the early morning air was fresh with the tang of salt. This time of day had always been her favorite. And now that she was captain of her own ship it had a new savor.
She looked down at the wide gold bracelets of rank that covered both wrists. She still had trouble believing it. From first mate to captain in little more than two years; she'd never thought it would happen so fast.
Three trips on her own were not enough to dim the excitement of her new status. Sometimes she woke in the night, thinking Uncle Kesselandt's gift of the Sea Mist and a small partnership in the family business but a dream she'd had. Then she'd remember and drop off again, glowing with a warm happiness.
The wind blew Maurynna's long black hair across her face. She shook it clear, greeting the sailors on deck, waving to those working in the rigging. From the mainmast high above the deck the Erdon pennant fluttered in the wind: a silver dolphin leaping on a sea of green silk.
She called up to the first mate on the quarterdeck, "All well, Master Remon?"
Remon looked over the rail, one hand still on the ship's wheel. "Aye, Captain. Kara reported a quiet night with a brisk wind. Keeps on like this, we'll make Cassori a few days early."
"Thank you, Master Remon. I hope it continues as well." Maurynna walked along the deck, squinting into the sun off the starboard bow, pleased with the world. This trading run had gone well so far. And if the first half was an augury for the rest, she'd do very well indeed. So much for the protests from the senior partners that at nineteenЧalmost twenty, she amendedЧshe was too young for so much responsibility.
She nearly jigged a few steps for joy, then remembered it was beneath the dignity of a captain. Instead she leaned on the polished rail and hummed.
The door to Otter's cabin opened. The Yerrin bard stepped out, yawning. A smile crept across his face when he saw her.
"You're a sleepy one this morning," she said as he joined her. "Didn't you rest well last night? You turned in earlier than I."
"I was talking to a friend late last night," Otter said, "and had trouble sleeping again afterward." His smile widened.
"Who?" she asked, idly curious. "Remon?" She knew that wasn't right even as she said it. For one thing, the first mate rarely stayed up late; he rose at dawn to take the helm. And Otter's grin said it was someone very different.
He looked around. "Lovely morning, isn't it? Think I'll stroll the deck for a bit."
Maurynna pushed off the rail to stand squarely in his way."Not until you explain." She tugged the bard's grizzled beard. "You're teasing meЧ I can tell. You always get that look in your eye. Out with it!"
He looked hurt. "You wound me, Rynna. You've known me since you were a child andЧ"
"Exactly; I know you. Otter."
He leaned on the rail, looked out over the waves and laughed. Maurynna turned her back to the following wind. She knew she could outwait Otter.
Behind her the crew hoisted another sail, singing a bawdy chorus to keep the time. The creaking lines and the flapping of the canvas formed part of the melody.
At the final "Ho!" from the crew, Maurynna looked over her shoulder to see the woad-blue sail belly out as it caught the freshening wind. The Sea Mist leaped forward on the waves. Otter grabbed the rail. Maurynna swayed with the motion of the ship and pretended not to notice.
She said, "NowЧwho was this mysterious friend?"
Slowly relaxing his white-knuckled grip, Otter said, "When we were in Assantik, do you remember that captain telling us that the Cassorin queen had died?"
"AhЧyou mean Gajji. It's old news; Gajji was in Cassori a long while back. It's tragic about that pleasure barge foundering in a storm, but what has that to do with your friend?"
"A great deal, actually." Otter smiled, clearly waiting for her to beg him to go on. When she didn't give in, the bard gave her a fatherly nod, his eyes alight with mischief. "You'll find out when we reach Casna."
At her yelp of protest, Otter raised a cautionary hand. "And each time you threaten to keelhaul me, I'll put off telling you even longer. MmЧ perhaps I should wait for your birthday anyway."
Maurynna's frustrated curiosity nearly choked her. Blast Otter! He knew she wouldn't snoop around the crew to find out to whom he'd been talking; it would lessen her standing as captain. She was still new enough to be touchy about her dignity.
"YouЧyou .. . Pah! Why I ever agreed to give passage to an intolerable, trouble-making, annoying, and outright obnoxious Yerrin bard..." Her fingers itched to pull out Otter's beard bit by bit.
And the bard knew every thought crossing her mind as if he could read it. She saw it in the laughing eyes. She snarled something rude in Assan-tikkan and stalked off, feeling a little better.
Otter leaned on the rail again and laughed.
No, she wouldn't snoop. But she could keep her ears open in case she overheard one of the sailors talk about the conversation.
Yet it still puzzled her. Which one of the crew had Otter been talking to? What had they heard in port that she hadn't? And why should that sailor care about what was happening in Cassori? She climbed to the quarterdeck and let the clean salt air blow her annoyance away.
Ah, well, she consoled herself. Whatever Otter's surprise is this time, it will be well worth the waiting. They always are. But must he be such a tease about it?

Four