"Peter David - Sir Apropos 03 - Tong Lashing" - читать интересную книгу автора (David Peter)

And pray to the water gods for good weather..."

"Oh, well, we can guarantee that," I said, "since she's a--"

"...and, ideally, that no damned or accursed magic-using weavers come anywhere near my ship," he
concluded.

My mouth opened and closed without words emerging for a moment. "Weavers... are a problem?" I
asked.

"You get magic users on your boat, and you're guaranteed disaster," Captain Stout told me forcefully.
Then he squinted, apparently processing belatedly what I'd just said. "How can you guarantee good
weather? She's a... what?"

"An amateur weather predictor," I said immediately. "Charts storms and such. And she told me there's
going to be nothing but good weather and smooth sailing for the next three weeks."

"Good weather and smooth sailing where?"

"Everywhere," I told him without hesitation. "Everywhere. In the world. It's the damnedest thing.
Never seen anything like it."

His thick eyebrows knit. Then he laughed with such abruptness that it jolted me, and he said, "If that's
what your woman thinks, then the odds are that she's going to remain an amateur for a very, very long
time." Then he clapped me on the shoulder as if we were old mates and told me to bring my young lady
by so he could inspect the cut of her jib.

Personally, I didn't think Sharee was going to want the old salt inspecting any cuts of her at all, but I
smiled affably and went off to find her.

I headed around to the other side of the pub and then stopped. There was Sharee... but she was
going out a side door, in the company of three rather large men.

I gripped my walking staff tightly. The staff was an exceptionally formidable weapon that had been
assisting me in and out of scrapes for over half my life. There was a carving of a lion wrestling a dragon
on one end, and a sharp blade could be triggered to snap out of the dragon's mouth for use in combat. In
addition, with a twist the staff could be separated into two halves and each used as a devastating cudgel.

Not that I was anxious to get into any sort of fight. I never was. Then again, I was hoping I wouldn't
have to. If I followed Sharee outside and matters appeared dire, I could whistle for Mordant and he
would emerge from hiding and rip the throats out of these likely felons in no time at all, while I would
stand by and check over their corpses for valuables. It all seemed a very credible plan to me.

I couldn't tell if the three men were forcing Sharee to go out with them. All I knew was that they were
gone and I was going to follow them. I moved quickly, stepping through the door into what turned out to
be an alleyway alongside the pub.

What I saw astounded me.
 Sharee had her arm extended and Mordant was sitting perched upon it. She had her cape coiled
around her forearm to protect it from his rather formidable claws. The three men were making soft noises