"Dave Duncan - A Man of His Word 3 - Perilous Seas" - читать интересную книгу автора (Duncan Dave)

"Wine? What's the occasion?"
"Just thought a working man might like a break. "
The faun smiled his usual diffident little smile. "Great!" he shouted, and
disappeared.
Ogi headed over to the fire pit and was pleased to discover a few live embers
remaining. He added some twigs and blew up a flame. Then he settled on a boulder
and made certain that the wine had survived the journey unharmed.
A gray bird flew in to perch on a twig and eye him with deep suspicion. There
were rocks enough to seat at least a dozen more people, so whoever had built it
must have had a large family ... no, the shack was small, so he'd just enjoyed
throwing big parties. It was a pleasant spot, though, set in a little dell and
sheltered from the tropic sun by a couple of half-decent treesin Durthing any
worthwhile timber soon vanished into cooking fires-but too far from a spring to
be a prime location; more private than most.
In a few minutes Rap came wandering out, pulling on a shirt. He was still
comically modest about clothing, considering the complete absence of privacy in
a sailor's working life, but a good lad, steady beyond his years. In appearance
he was pretty much straight faun, except for his hair and his size, and he had a
faun's disinclination to conform to social pressures. Like being cleanshaven,
for instance. He was the only man on Stormdancer not trying to grow a floorbrush
mustache like Gathmor's. He was also the only man in Durthing who wore long
pants all the time.
"One of them's likely Petrel. She's due. Don't know the other."
Ships arriving were always of interest, but the juvenile forest around Rap's
cabin blocked a clear view of the harbor. He, of course, could see through
anything, but either the ships were still out of his range or he just didn't
care much. He sat down again and stared at the flickering flames in silence.
The swift tropical dark was settling in all around, and the birdcalls were
fading away. Bright smoke and sparks and crackling fire ... oversexed crickets
racketing already ... It was a pleasant night.
As Ogi cut off the fish heads, he tossed them over his shoulder for dogs or
gnomes to find. Likewise, when he slit the bellies, he scraped out the guts on
the dirt behind him. Quite likely there would be a gnome child or two hovering
nearby already, drawn by the fire.
"Something wrong?" Ogi asked.
Rap had been staring fixedly at the flames. He smiled faintly and shrugged.
"Nothing you can help with."
"Please yourself. But if you want to talk it out to a friend, I'm available. And
despite what you may have been told ever since you were weaned, some imps can
keep secrets."
That brought the little smile again, briefly, and Ogi realized that the wide
faun mouth almost never smiled more than that. "It's just that I'm not finding
it easy settling down here." Yes, that was very odd.
"Durthing's not perfect," Ogi said loyally, "but there's nowhere much better.
You've gotten yourself a pretty fair house there for just the cost of a few


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