"Doranna Durgin - Wolverine's Daughter" - читать интересную книгу автора (Durgin Doranna)

He backed right into her, gave her a startled glance, and quickly turned it into a frown. "Outta the way,"
he grunted, as the woman, seeing opportunity, redoubled her efforts to escape. He merely reestablished
his grip and moved onтАФonly to bounce off Kelyn again. This time he rounded on her, but with his mouth
open and ready to spout rudeness; he suddenly seemed to realize that he was lookingup at her.

"She doesn't want to go with you," Kelyn said. "But you probably can't see that, considering you've just
walked into me twice."

"Mind yer own," the man snapped, recovered from his surprise. "She committed to me."

"No!" the woman said. "My father did that, and it was before either of us knew what a black-hearted
bastard you are. My father would never hand me over to a man who beat me!"

"And I say he would," the man sneered, a quick gesture with his fist making the woman cringe. "Since
he's dead, I guess we'll just have to take my word on it, won't we?"

"No, we won't." Kelyn thought she sounded quite reasonable. Of course, she couldn't help tightening the
grip on her staff, wishing it was his throat, but if one didn't notice, perhaps she wouldlook reasonable,
too.

"No one's going to stop me, you can see that," the man said, his eye gleaming as he indicated the
marketplace with a sweep of his arm. "I'll do as I please with this worthless trash." He gave a little laugh,
and as if to prove his point, balled up his fist and turned on the woman.

Kelyn instantly tapped him on the shin with her staff, knowing from hard experience that it took little
effort to create excruciating pain along the edge of the bone.

It got his attention, all right. He threw the woman against the building beside them and turned on Kelyn,
aiming that same fist right at her face. But the reflexes that could handle the lightning-swift moves of a
rock cat had no problem with this supposedly civilized human. She knocked his hand out of the way with
the upper end of the staff and hit him on the shin again with the lower. She couldn't follow the torrent of
ugly words that came from his mouth then, but she got the meaning well enough, especially when he came
at her againтАФthis time with the glint of metal in his hand, slashing for her arm. Idiot.

Without stepping back, Kelyn knocked him aside and whacked the other shin, putting some force
behind it. He went down, bellowing outrage, but came right back up again, still clutching the knife.
Definitely an idiot. Kelyn stepped back into guard, whirling the staff before her. While he was still
evaluating his chances of getting through it, she tapped him on the shoulder, the flank, beside his knee, his
elbowтАФthe knife went flying at that oneтАФand then, without quite the force to ruin him, brought the
ironwood up between his legs.

Already staggering, he dropped with a screech and made no attempt to rise. Kelyn set the staff against
the ground and regarded him with one hand on her hip, frowning. The people in the market walked
around them, muttering and scowling, but doing no more to help the man than they had the woman.
Kelyn had a sudden strong urge to return to Ketura, where people behaved in a reasonable manner . . .
but that would end this journey before it had really started. She was not one to ignore Rika's words,
besides.

She leaned over the man, impartially watching his gyrations of pain. When she couldn't get his attention,
she resettled the staff from the ground to his stomach. He blinked up at her, panting, tears leaking from