"David,.Peter.-.Sir.Apropos.2.-.Woad.To.Wuin" - читать интересную книгу автора (David Peter)

"weaver," as her type is also known, short for "magic weaver") who called
herself "Sharee," which may or may not have been her true name.
I never found out whether Runcible sent his knights after me to bring me back.
On the one hand, his pride was no doubt hurt; on the other hand, he and his
queenЧand certainly his daughterЧmight have been well-pleased to be rid of me.
If they had been determined to hunt me down, it likely would not have been all
that difficult. My ears tended to stick out a bit too much, and my flaming red
hair was long and unruly. My nose was crooked from having been broken several
times, and although my eyes were a remarkably pleasing shade of gray, the rest
of my hodgepodge of features invariably overwhelmed them. Furthermore I was lame
of right leg, and got about with the aid of a sizable walking staff that also
served as a formidable weapon. In short, I was easy to spot and difficult to
disguise.
Sharee was less distinctive. She dressed customarily in black, with ebony hair
cut short and curled around her ears, and her rather prominent chin perpetually
out thrust as if she were challenging the world to take its best shot at her.
There were times when it seemed to me that her prime reason for existence was
harassing me and taking great pleasure in the bizarre vagaries of my life.
Still, in some ways she was the truest friend I had ever encountered, if one
defined friend as "perpetual irritant."
Just in case Runcible's knights did happen to be following us, we retreated west
and later north, to take refuge in the Tucker Forest. This was not done without
a certain degree of trepidation on my part. The Tucker Forest was a nesting area
for a particularly vicious group of cutthroat monstrosities called the Harpers
Bizarre, with whom I had considerable bad blood. I would far have preferred to
take refuge in the Elderwoods of my youth, but the only way to get there was
either along roads too heavily traveled for my comfort, or across the Screaming
Gorge of Eternal Madness, about which the less said the better. Besides, Sharee
seemed rather confident that if difficulties arose, her weather-related magiks
could dispose of the Harpers with alacrity, and so the Tucker Forest became our
temporary haven while we waited for the name Apropos to fade into the furthest
recesses of royal memory.
Fortunately I had considerable proficiency in forestry, one of the few true
talents I possessed other than evasion, self-preservation, and rank cowardice. I
had developed the forestry skills in my youth, and they had not faded in time as
I grew to young manhood. I was reaching the end of my teens when we took up
temporary refuge in the Tucker Forest. We found a cave in which to reside, well
hidden from casual observation either from ground level (i.e., thieves) or from
overhead (i.e., the Harpers Bizarre). We figured we would spend a couple of days
there and then work our way farther west in order to distance ourselves more
from Runcible's men. I spent time hunting, catching small game, while Sharee
preferred to alternate between meditating and acting as if she had something far
better to do with her time than remain with me.
Occasionally, though, we had mild fun together. For instance, I commented to her
that I would be interested in learning some magic. In response, she started
teaching me card tricks. Not real magic at all, and I was quite irritated with
her at first. But in short order, I actually derived some genuine amusement from
it. I was a fairly quick learner, and also picked up some easy sleight-of-hand,
including misdirection and the ability to apparently pluck a card out of the
air. Not much of a trick to the latter, really. Simply keep your hand straight,