"Clayton Emery - Netheril 03 - Mortal Consequences" - читать интересную книгу автора (Emery Clayton)

"Come and lay your head on my shoulder, country mouse. You need to rest, not fret. Summer will end
soon, and we'll travel on, won't we?"
But Sunbright didn't listen to her words, only her tone. Laying his big white-blonde head on her
shoulder, he murmured, "You sound like Greenwillow."
Knucklebones stiffened, said, "And why her?"
Sunbright closed his eyes. "You called me 'country mouse.' That's what she called me. Curious,
isn't it?"
"I suppose," Knucklebones said, her small bosom heaving in a sigh. "It's not mete to mention one
woman while lying in the arms of another."
The barbarian opened his eyes, looked straight into her one good one, and said, "I'm sorry. I didn't
think. I love you, Knuckle', and only you now. But Greenwillow was a boon companion, and I loved
her once. She died saving my life, and was trapped in a corner of hell as a result. Somehow, some day,
I'll get her loose of it, if her soul survived."
Again Knucklebones sighed, but wrapped her skinny, scarred arms around his head. "Your life
would be easier if you busied yourself with daily tasks," she told him softly, "and people close by, not
insurmountable problems that span the globe."
"Easier if I had no conscience, or honor." He kissed her white shoulder, licked her pointed ear as he
spoke. "Perhaps you should marry a fishmonger or cobbler. They could give you a home, get you eight
or nine children, make you fat and gray. Would that suit you better than tramping the world beside a
dream-haunted barbarian?"
Knucklebones chuckled and kissed his forehead. "You're full of odd notions, Sunbright, and silly
besides," she said. "Go to sleep."
And he did, as she watched the fire and caressed his thick hair.
*****
Come the first cool day of autumn, when the hills burned red and gold and orange, Knucklebones
knotted her sack of cash, Sunbright shouldered his sword and bow and satchels, and they left the
summer cabin. Embarking on a small caravel with lateen sails, they were ferried down the Narrow
Sea, past Vandal Station, past Northreach, past Frostypaw and Coldfoot, and through the Channel
Lock. At Harborage the two asked after the Rengarth Barbarians, but received only blank looks. All
summer Sunbright had asked everyone he met, travelers and locals alike, for the whereabouts of his
tribe, but none knew. As far as the northwestern reaches of the empire were concerned, the Rengarth
had vanished, and their ancestral lands stood empty. Wondering, and growing more fearful all the
time, Sunbright had decided to sail into the eastern arm of the Narrow Sea and inquire there. But even
at the crossroads of Harborage, they found no trace.
Over time, learning nothing, Sunbright's face grew longer, his eyes haunted, his demeanor bitter.
Even with Knucklebones his answers grew short, until they passed days without speaking. They sailed
on, clear to the east, to Janick near the river called The Alley, and found naught. There Sunbright
disembarked, and stood on the docks, and stared at the sea and land for hours.
Finally Knucklebones said, "Perhaps we search too hard." Worn down by constant travel, she
perched on a bird-stained bollard. All around the harbor ships and boats tacked and rowed, delivered
supplies and people and fish and sails and water. They were the only ones idle, and they felt out of
place.
But no place was home now, and Knucklebones, not even of this time, found herself saddled with a
gloomy companion, and nowhere to go.
"Eh? What?" Sunbright said, turning from his daydreaming. "How can one search too hard? How
else shall we find my people?"
"I don't know, but wandering blind isn't working, and you're unhappy," she said, desperately trying
to think of any alternative. "PerhapsтАФperhaps if we set another goal, temporarily, we'd have luck.
That might lead us in the right direction. When the way of mortals fail, it's best to trust in the gods."
Sunbright turned back to the harbor, as if to see over the horizon. "Perhaps you're correct. Perhaps