"Duncan, Dave - A Man Of His Word 03 - Perilous Seas" - читать интересную книгу автора (Duncan Dave)

Rap lowered the flask with a gasp. "I'll go later."
"Hey, swimming in the dark . . . All right, smarty, you needn't smirk like that!
" Ogi did not usually cluck like a mother hen, but young Rap was a newcomer to
swimming. "So it's not dangerous for you-but don't go too soon after you've
eaten, okay?" In any case, certain parties had plans for this sailor's evening,
and swimming was not among them. He'd get to those later. "How's the builder
doing?"
"Come and see?" Rap asked shyly. He jumped up and led the way over to the little
hovel he now called home. It was a lot more homelike than it had been two months
before, and he proudly displayed his latest achievement, a shutter for the
window. It would keep rain out, if not wind. He had no furniture yet except a
hammock and a chair, although Ogi had often offered to lend him some money to
get settled in. At suitable interest rates, of course.
As always, Ogi wondered why a faun jotunn hybrid had chosen an impish shack. In
their homeland of Sysanasso, fauns lived in flimsy huts of wicker and thatch,
and yet Rap had selected an ancient log cabin, built by some long-lost imp in
this lonely dell. He had seemed surprised that his choice would surprise anyone,
muttering something about his hometown being impish even if he wasn't. To have
picked somewhere less isolated would have seemed more friendly.
He had fixed the roof and made the place quite astonishingly clean. Ogi viewed,
admired, and complimented. Then they headed back to the fire pit and the wine.
Ogi proposed a few toasts, and got some more of the wine into the kid that way.
Then he pulled out the day's catch and set to work cleaning them.
"Arrivals? " Rap muttered, peering over his head, apparently at the stringy
trees.
"A girl, was it?" he asked softly. "Or a dream?"
"A girl," Rap told the fire, "but not the way you mean."
"Son, I've tried every way there is," Ogi said nostalgically. Rap wrinkled his
wide faun nose. "A promise, then."
"What sort of promise?"
Rap shot him a brief, cryptic glance. "A crazy one." He took another swallow
from the wine jar and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I don't really
want to be a sailor. There's the nub."
He wasn't going to be very popular if Gathmor heard him talking like that. Or
any jotunn, for that matter.
"Then you're fooling all of us, buddy. There was talk you might be made
coxswain's mate when Larg got promoted." Rap snorted disbelievingly and went
back to leaning elbows on knees. He'd rowed to Faerie and back three times now.
Men grew fast at his age, and he had a rower's shoulders already. He was going
to need those tonight-for a moment Ogi felt a gloating touch of avarice. Lovely
gold! Then he wet a finger and flipped a drop of spit at the griddle. It hissed
and danced satisfactorily. He threw on the onions and began buttering the fish
with his dagger.
"Gathmor said he paid forty-six imperials for me and the goblin," Rap murmured.
"If I save all I can, how long would it take me to pay it off?"
"With interest, about thirty-nine hundred years."
"Oh-that soon, you think?"
"Be realistic, Rap! If you were Gathmor, would you let you go? Your farsight's
beyond any price to him. He loves his ship, he's responsible for his crew-he
isn't going to let you go. "