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

Kelyn leapt over him, snatching at the grate as soon as her feet hit the floor, tipping it back where it
belonged. It hit the man's head first, settling crookedly into place on top of one of his hands. Bellowing
protest and pain, he yanked the hand loose and fell.

He made a squishing noise as he landed in the filth and sprawled amidst the stunned silence of the
prisoners. Then they seemed to realize their opportunity, and a rally cry of anger rang out.

Kelyn didn't wait around to hear the blows that surely followed. She turned and ran, thinking of her staff,
and of freedom.
***

Staff by her side, Kelyn sprawled on her stomach at the top of a slight rise, cloak puddled beside her as
she chewed on the stem of one of this year's new, sweet green grasses and again considered the town
before her. It had taught her as much as she'd expected and moreтАФespecially that wiry little man called
Gort.

When you find your father, you will find you, Rika had said. And of the needle,follow it to your self
. Kelyn smiled grimly. All the needle could do was point her at trouble, to places where people were in
shock and grieving. Maybe even to scenes like the first time she'd dealt with Busted Balls, when any
good looter could have made use of the distraction to snatch things from the vendors.

Never turnin' away from trouble, Gort had said about KeturansтАФbecause, like Kelyn, they didn't fear
it.Thainn the Keturan , Kelyn thought, lifting the needle on its thong to twirl it lazily in the sun, trusting
Rika's words to her.If I follow this trouble dowser long enough, I'll find you.




Chapter 4
When the evenly spaced stone pillars marking the border between Orrick and Atlia came into view,
Kelyn turned southeast to skirt the border, paralleling the faint trade road that ran that same course. She
had learned her lesson about spending too much time in townsтАФfor nowтАФand had discovered that if
she approached with plenty of field-dressed game in hand, she could sell her bounty, treat herself to a
good meal, and move on with a few more coins in her purse and a trinket or two in her satchel.

The outlands.

The lands themselves were no real problem; easy to learn the ways of, and easy to adapt to for one used
to harsh Keturan climes. The people, now . . .

Ketura, with its seldom-breeding womenтАФanother decision of its godтАФleft women to fill the roles that
best helped them to survive. Hunter, fighter, gatherer, weaver, healer . . . as they chose and were able.
But these outlandsтАФOrrick's, at leastтАФwere fertile ones, and the men and women lived within closely
defined roles.

Kelyn fit in neither. But she didn't worry overmuch for their judgment of her. Instead she stuffed her
winter boots in the satchel to travel barefoot despite the disdain it garnered; disdain, after all, didn't stop
them from trading for her game. She practiced the changing dialect of the language, and was relieved to
learn that the basic language itself changed little until one entered the Hurstian lands beyond AtliaтАФor
returned to Ketura.