"Watt-Evans,.Lawrence.-.Ethshar.2.-.Single.Spell" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dragon Stories)

Privateer?
Tobas, thinking back over the conversation, suddenly realized his error. Pirates, I mean; my master used to call them privateers. In the Free Lands they were considered privateers, whatever Dabran might have said, and Tobas had long ago acquired the habit of using the polite term with strangers and the more accurate description with his family. Among Ethsharites, though, it appeared they were known as pirates.
Who was this master?
Roggit the Wizard, Tobas replied boldly. That was true enough.
The red-clad man glanced at the woman, then drummed the ringed fingers of one hand on the desk. What ship?
Dawns Pride,Tobas improvised quickly.
And?
Puzzled, Tobas said, And what?
Where did she sail from, boy, and where was she bound?
Oh! Out of Harbek, bound for Tintallion.
Wheres Harbek?
In the Small Kingdoms.
I gathered that, boy;where in the Small Kingdoms?
Ah ... in the south? He wished he had given a different origin; he knew almost nothing about the Small Kingdoms.
The man stared at him for a long moment, then leaned forward, elbows on the desk, and announced, I never heard of your master, your ship, or your homeland, boy, and no ship from the Kingdoms has any business sailing past Ethshar of the Sands, let alone so far as Tintallion, but I wont call you a liar yet; some fool from some worthless little corner of the south might just have tried it. Let me suggest a possibility, though. Suppose that a lad in the Pirate Towns wanted to seek his fortune, and in a wider world than his one little corner. He might want to get on board a ship bound for one of the Ethshars. If he managed it, hed have to account for himself once he was on board. Knowing little of the outside world, he would make up a story as best he could, rather than admit to being one of the Hegemonys enemies, but he wouldnt do a very convincing job of it. He wouldnt even realize that he was speaking Ethsharitic with the accent of the Pirate Towns, which is nothing like anything spoken in the Small Kingdoms, not even where they think theyre speaking our tongue rather than one of their own strange languages. I think hed look and sound a lot like you, Tobas of Harbek, who claims to be a wizards apprentice.
Iam a wizards apprentice or I was. My master is dead.
And the rest of it?
Uh... Tobas fell silent.
You had a good pair of oars in that boat, they tell me, and you look fit; why didnt you row for shore?
Uh...
You wanted to get aboard this ship, didnt you?
Yes, Tobas admitted after a moments hesitation, seeing no alternative.
I thought so. And I don't think its because you were afraid of what the Pirate Towners would do to you, either, not with that accent you have. He sat back and looked up at Tobas, his hands pressed together before his chest. Well, he continued, wherever you're from, Id guess you're pretty much alone in the world or you wouldnt be here, and whoever you are, I don't mind letting you work your passage to Ethshar of the Sands, or even Ethshar of the Spices. You will work, though. The overlords have decreed that castaways and refugees are to receive free passage, and if Im wrong about you you can go and complain to old Ederd the Fourth when we reach Ethshar of the Sands, but until then youll work. If you don't, well put you back in that boat we found you in. Fair enough?
Tobas nodded mute agreement, and did not dare to ask for an explanation of the difference between Ethshar of the Sands and Ethshar of the Spices, or who Ederd IV might be.
He allowed himself to be led meekly away and assigned a hammock, and was on his way to the galley to help the cook with the crews dinner when it finally sank in that he had made it, despite the failure of his concocted story. They were not going to hang him as a pirate, nor throw him back in the sea. He was on his way to Ethshar to seek his fortune and find a new home!
He smiled. His bad luck was obviously past. He had needed a ship, and here he was on a ship. He had needed a boat to reach the ship, and he had found one.
Then he remembered that he had stolen the boat, which the ships crew had hauled aboard and lashed down on deck, and the smile faded. Some day, he promised himself, when he was rich and powerful, he would pay those two lovers back for their boat and for the trouble he had put them through.
And for the chicken, too, while he was at it.

Chapter Five

The first port of call was Ethshar of the Sands, and at the sight of the city Tobas, already unsettled by the strange flat landscape they had been sailing past, lost his nerve completely. He had not realized that a city could be so large. He had known Telven wasnt much, but he had thought that Shan on the Sea was a good-sized town, with a population he guessed at a thousand or more.
The entire population of Shan on the Sea could be lost without a trace in Ethshar of the Sands.
Tobas had first begun to have misgivings when they left the familiar hills and patchy beaches behind, passing league after league of almost featureless flat coastline, flat as a calm sea, an endless plain of sand and grass. He had not realized that land could be so flat; never before had he seen any sort of terrain but the gentle hills and graveled beaches of his homeland.
And when he glimpsed the Great Lighthouse in the distance, even before he realized its actual size, that did not help at all; the single huge tower thrusting up from this strange, level world had seemed almost threateningly out of place. As the ship drew nearer and the palace dome appeared, followed by the endless expanse of red-tiled roofs, his uncertainty grew steadily. Row after row of buildings lined the sandy shores, leagues of them, it seemed, as the ship worked its way up The Channel, past the Outer Towers, past the Outer Docks, past the Inner Towers, and into Seagate Harbor.
The city even smelled strange; an odd, hot scent reached the ship, compounded of smoke, fish, and tight-packed humanity, as well as other things he could not identify. No place in the Free Lands had smelled like that.
He stood at the rail, fending-pole in his hands, and stared in dumbfoundment. How could there be enough people in all the world to fill so many buildings? What did they all do? Where did their food come from, with no farmland inside the walls?
A fishing-boat drifted uncomfortably near, and the next man aft from Tobas fended it off, then cursed the Telvener roundly for his negligence. Tobas woke up enough to turn his eyes from the shore to the surrounding water, but even that was mind-boggling; more shipping was crowded into this one harbor, he was sure, than could be found in all the Free Lands of the Coasts put together.
It was all too much for him, and when the ship was safely docked and the captain called for all who were going ashore he remained where he was, hanging onto the rail and staring at the bustling streets.
A few moments later, the captain Tobas had learned two days out that the captains name was Istram and the ships wasGolden Gull, but he still thought of the man simply as the captain and the vessel simply as the ship came up behind him and asked, without preamble, Arent you leaving the ship?
Tobas jumped. Ah ... no, he said. I think I'll stay on, if you don't mind.
The captain shrugged. An extra hand is welcome if you pull your weight. You werent much use with that pole coming into port, and you have yet to show me any of the magic you claim to know.
Its all fire magic, Tobas explained defensively, his hand falling to the hilt of his athame. What use is that on a ship? He had settled on this explanation when taunted by the crew, and had gone so far as to use his single spell to ignite his worst tormentors bedding to prove his ability. After that no one had bothered him, but apparently word had not reached the captain. Ive been lighting the galley fires, but what else can I do?
We don't need a wizard to light fires! Istram said scornfully.
Im not asking for a wizards pay! Tobas retorted quickly.
The captain smiled. Good, because you wouldnt get it. You havent even earned the boots we gave you, or the food youve eaten. Im a kind man, though, so if you want to stay aboard you may; our next port is Ethshar of the Spices, if you care to leave us there, and after that it depends on what cargo we can get probably well head back west.
Tobas nodded. Thank you, sir. He glanced down at the boots just mentioned, which had been donated by a lad in the crew who had outgrown them. The captain was right; he hadnt really done enough work yet to earn them.
He sighed; he was a long way from the rich, easy life he wanted.
They were two days in port, unloading roughly half the cargo of furs, oils, and other goods, and replacing it with freshly-slaughtered beef and a warlock, whose magic would keep the meat cool and prevent spoilage. There was enough lifting, hauling on ropes, and general hard labor involved that by the time the ship was loaded full again Tobas felt he had earned a cobblers entire shop. Once or twice he gave serious thought to deserting or rather, since he had never formally signed on, leaving but the sight and sound and smell of the crowded streets was still enough to deter him. Ethshar of the Sands was terrifying in its immensity and alienness; Ethshar of the Spices might not be.
He also remained on board in hopes of getting to know the warlock, and perhaps even learning a little of this strange new school of magic that required none of the rituals and paraphernalia of wizardry. After all, a career in any sort of magic might well be profitable, and simply because he had been initiated into the Wizards Guild he saw no reason not to pursue studies in the other varieties of arcane skill.