"Brooks, Terry - Jerle Shannara 02 - Antrax" - читать интересную книгу автора (Brooks Terry)

"A couple of the men went right up the masts, even in that storm, as if it didn't matter or they didn't care how dangerous it was. Kelson Riat barely missed getting his head taken off by a loose spar, and Jahnon Pakabbon was slashed all the way down his left arm by a spike. But no one gave up on the ship. We got her functioning again in minutes. I'd cleared the controls, but the lines were smashed, so we had to do it all by hand. We used the power stored in the parse tubes to right her, turn her from the ice pillars, and start her back the way she had come. The wind fought us the whole way, blowing down off the ice fields and up the gorge, trying to overpower us. But she's a good ship, Little Red. The Jerle Shannara is the best. She fought her way right into the teeth of the wind and held her own until we found some calm space to make headway in."

He rocked back in his seat, laughing like a boy. "Even Spanner Frew was spitting and howling in defiance of that wind, standing at the wheel to keep the rudder steady, even without the controls to work. Old Black Beard fought for her like the rest of us. To him she's a child he's nurtured and reared as his own, and he's not going to lose her, is he?"

She smiled with him, his glee infectious, her relief giving her an edge on the ache of her body. She glanced down at herself, tucked in one of the berths belowdecks, in the Healer's quarters, she thought. Light shone through the room's only window, bright and cheerful. She tried moving her arms and legs, but her body didn't seem to want to respond.

"Am I all in one piece?" she asked, suddenly concerned.

"Except for a few bad slashes and deep bruises." He arched one eyebrow at her. "You must have had one terrible battle up there, Little Red. You and Hawk."

She kept trying to make her hands and feet move, saying nothing in reply. Finally, she felt a tingle at the ends of each, working its way through the pain that ran up and down her body in sharp spasms. She let herself relax and looked at her brother. "Hawk died for me. You've probably guessed as much. I wouldn't have made it without him. None of us would. I can't believe he's gone."

Her brother nodded. "Nor me. He's been with us forever. I didn't think we'd ever lose him." He sighed. "Care to tell me what happened? It might help us both a bit if you did."

She took her time, pausing once to let him bring her a fresh drink of water, taking him through the events leading up to her finally freeing him from the aft storeroom, leaving nothing out, forcing herself to remember it all, especially everything about Furl Hawken. It took considerable effort just to tell it, and when she had finished, she was exhausted.

Redden Alt Mer didn't say anything at first, simply nodded, then rose and walked to the cabin window to look outside. She cried a little when his back was turned, not tears, not audible sobs, but tiny hiccups and little heaves that he wouldn't notice or that, at least, she could pretend he didn't.

When he turned back to her, she was composed again. "He was everything a Rover is supposed to be," her brother offered quietly. "It doesn't help much just now, but down the road, when it matters, I think we'll find some part of him is inside us, keeping us strong, telling us how to be as good a man as he was."

She fell asleep then, almost before she knew it, and her sleep was deep and dreamless. When she woke, the room was dark save for a single candle by her bed, the sunlight that had shone through the cabin window earlier gone. She felt stronger this time, though the aches and pains that had beset her before were more pronounced. She managed to lever herself up on one elbow and drink from the cup of water sitting on the table next to her. The Jerle Shannara sailed in calm and steady winds, the motion of its passage barely perceptible. It was quiet aboard ship, the sounds of men's voices and movements absent. It must be night, and most must be sleeping. Where were they? How far had they come since she had slept? She had no way of knowing as long as she lay in bed.

She forced her legs from under the covers and tried to stand, but her efforts failed, and she knocked the cup of water flying as she grasped the table for support before falling back again. The clatter echoed loudly, and moments later Big Red appeared, bare-chested and, clearly, roused from sleep.

"Some of us are trying to get our rest, Sister Rue," he muttered, helping her back beneath the covers. "What do you think you are doing anyway? You're a day or two away from walking around and maybe not then."

She nodded. "I'm weaker than I thought."

"You lost a lot of blood, if I'm any judge of wounds. You won't replace it all right away. Nor will you be healing up overnight. So let's try to be reasonable about what you can and can't do for the immediate future."

"I need a bath. I smell pretty bad."

He grinned, seating himself on a three-legged stool. "I can help you with that. But no one was going to attempt it while you were unconscious, let me tell you. Not even Spanner Frew. They know how you feel about being touched."

She tightened her lips. "They don't know anything about me. They just think they do." The words were sharp, bitter. She forced the sudden anger away. "Go back to bed. I'm sorry I woke you."

He shrugged, his red hair glistening in the candlelight, loose and unruly as it hung about his strong face. "Well, I'm up now, so maybe I'll stay up and talk with you awhile. The bath can wait until morning, can't it? I don't much want to haul a tub and water in here in the dark."

She grinned faintly. "It can wait." She regretted her anger; it was misdirected and inappropriate. Her brother was only trying to help. "I feel better tonight."

"You look better. Everyone was worried."

"How long have I been in this bed?"

"Two days."

She was surprised. "That long? It doesn't feel like it." She exhaled sharply. "Where are we now? How close to where we left the others? We've gone back for them, haven't we? We have to warn them about the Ilse Witch."

He smiled. "You are better. Ready to get up and fight another battle, aren't you?" He shook his head, then turned suddenly sober. "Listen carefully, Little Red. Things aren't so simple. We're not headed inland to the Druid's shore party. We're headed for the coast and the Wing Riders. We're doing just what we were told to do."