"Troy Denning - Forgotten Realms - The Harpers 12 - The Veiled Dragon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Denning Troy)

tant caravel and saw neither dragon nor ship, only the
splintered tip of a mainmast swaying above the crest of a
faraway dune of water.

Ruha released the taffrail and clambered down the
listing deck, half sliding over the wet planks to where
Captain Fowler stood at the rear of the ship. He was as
much ore as human, with a jutting brow, swinish snout,
and tough, grayish-green skin, and he seemed a strange
sort of commander to the eyes of a Bedine witch not long
absent from Anauroch's burning sands. He hugged the
tiller with one burly arm, and his gray eyes never strayed
from the ship's single bulging sail.

Ruha grabbed the binnacle, the wooden compass stand
before the tiller, and asked, "Captain Fowler, why do you
sail in the wrong direction?" She pointed over the star-
board side. "Do you not see the dragon? Over there!"

"Lady Witch, I know the beast's bearings well enough."
Though his voice was deep and gravelly, the captain
spoke with a deliberate composure that belied his feral
aspect. "But even I cannot sail Storm Sprite full into the
wind. We must beat our way."

Ruha had learned a little of the strange speech used by
the men who lived upon the water, enough to know
Fowler meant they had to follow a zigzag course to their
goal, and she did not need the captain to explain why.
Even a woman who had not set eyes on a ship until three
days ago could see that the Storm Sprite could not sail
directly against the wind. But she could also see that
Captain Fowler placed a high value on his vessel, and he

The Veiled Dragon

was certainly shrewd enough to make a great show of
rushing to the caravel's aid while sailing at angles shal-
low enough to ensure he arrived after the battle was
done.

Ruha glanced over the starboard side and saw the car-
avel topping the moonlit crest of a rolling sea dune. High
upon its poop deck sat the dragon, swatting at the far-
away vessel's indiscernible crew as a man slaps at sting-
ing flies.

"Captain Fowler, we have no time for this sailing of a
snake's path! By the time we reach the ship, we shall find
nothing but dead men."