"Raymond E. Feist - Conclave of Shadows 3 - Exile's Return" - читать интересную книгу автора (Feist Raymond E)

indelible memory.
Finally he judged the bird finished, and with disregard for burned lips and tongue
he set to with a frenzy. All too quickly he was finished, having eaten every shred of
meat and the tiny bit of fat the scrawny thing had possessed. It was the best meal he
could recall, but it merely whetted his appetite. He stood up and looked around, as if
he might spy another bird waiting to be snatched up and eaten.
Then he saw the boy.
He looked to be no more than seven or eight years of age. He wore homespun
and sandals, both caked with dust. He had as handsome a face as Kaspar had ever
seen on a child and a serious expression. He was dark-blond and he studied Kaspar
with wide, pale blue eyes.
 Kaspar remained motionless for what seemed minutes, and then the boy turned
and fled.
Kaspar took out after him a half-moment later, but he was weak from hunger and
deprivation. His only goad was fear that the boy would alert his father or the men of
his village and while Kaspar feared no man living, he knew he was too weak to give
much account of himself if faced by more than one man.
Kaspar labored to keep the boy in sight, but soon the child had vanished down a
gully and between some rocks. Kaspar followed as well as he could, but after only a
few minutes of climbing where he had seen the boy disappear, he stopped as dizziness
gripped him. His stomach grumbled and he belched as he sat down. He patted his
middle and in a moment of giddiness laughed at how he must look. It had only been,
what? Six or seven days since he had been captured in his citadel in Olasko, but he
could feel his ribs already. Near starvation had taken its toll.
He forced himself to be calm and then stood up and looked around for signs. He
was perhaps as gifted a tracker as any man born to nobility in the eastern kingdoms.
Kaspar had few vanities, but his skill at tracking and hunting were not among them;
he was as good as he thought he was. He saw scuff marks on the rocks and when he
climbed up them he saw the pathway.
Like the ancient abandoned road, this was an old path, made ages ago for carts or
wagons, but now used by animals and a few humans. He saw the boy's tracks heading
straight away from him and followed.
Kaspar was amused by the thought that the only other nobleman he knew who
had skills to match his own as a hunter was Talwin Hawkins, the man who had
overthrown him and taken away all Kaspar held dear. Kaspar stopped and caught his
breath. Something was wrong: he was lightheaded, his thoughts unfocused. Those
scant bits of fruit and one tiny bird were not enough to keep him more than barely
alive. His thoughts were wandering and he found that as disturbing as the constant
hunger and dirt.
He shook his head to clear it, then resumed walking. He forced his mind to
something approaching alertness and considered Talwin Hawkins. Of course he had
been justified in his actions, for Kaspar had betrayed him. Kaspar had sensed his
sister's growing attraction to the young noble from the Kingdom of the Isles.
Personally, he had found Hawkins likeable, and he admired his skill with a blade and
as a hunter. Kaspar paused for a moment. He found himself confused as to why he
had chosen to make Hawkins the dupe in his plan to assassinate Duke Rodoski of
Roldem. It had seemed a good idea at the time, but now he wondered how he had
arrived at that conclusion. Hawkins had been an able servant and as a bonus had
employed that wily old assassin, Amafi. They were a redoubtable pair and had proven
their worth early and often. Yet he had chosen to put all blame for the attempt on