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

the door. He saw an empty bucket so he picked it up and turned it over to use as a
makeshift stool. The boy watched him with serious blue eyes and the woman kept
glancing at him as she put food on the table for the boy.
When they were both seated, Kaspar said, 'Well, Jojanna and Jorgen, my name is
Kaspar, and until a few days ago I was one of the most powerful men on the other
side of this world. I have fallen to this low estate, but despite my scruffy appearance, I
am as I have said.'
They looked at him uncomprehendingly. He chuckled. 'Very well. You don't
need to learn Quegan. I need to learn your language.' He hit the bucket he sat on and
said, 'Bucket.'
The woman and her son were silent. He stood up, pointed to the bucket and said
the word again. Then he pointed at them and gestured at the bucket again. 'What do
you call this?'
Jorgen understood and spoke a word. It was unlike anything Kaspar had heard.
He repeated it and Jorgen nodded. 'Well, it's a start,' said the former Duke of Olasko.
'Maybe by bedtime we can speak enough for me to convince you not to cut my throat
while I sleep.'


CHAPTER THREE
Farm
KASPAR awoke on the floor of the small hut. He had slept in front of the door to
prevent Jorgen or his mother from fleeing. Levering himself up on one elbow, he
peered around in the early-morning gloom. There was only a small window near the
chimney to his right, so it was still quite dark in the room.
The boy and woman were both awake, but neither had moved from their
respective sleeping pallets. 'Good morning,' Kaspar said as he sat up. He had
confiscated their crossbow and any sharp utensil he judged capable of inflicting
serious injury and had piled them up out of their reach. He trusted his instincts, as a
hunter and a warrior, to awaken him should either of his reluctant companions attempt
to harm him, so he had slept well. After rising slowly, Kasper started returning the
implements to their proper locations; the woman would have work to do. He had
spent the balance of the previous afternoon and evening pointing at objects and asking
their names: slowly unraveling this new language. He had learnt enough to surmise
that their dialect was related to ancient Keshian, spoken in the Bitter Sea region a few
centuries before. Kaspar had studied Empire history as much as any noble boy was
forced to and vaguely remembered references to a religious war which had sent
Keshian refugees fleeing west. Apparently some of them must have landed nearby.
 Kaspar always had possessed a flair for languages, though he now wished he had
spent a little more time speaking QueganтАФan offshoot of the same Keshian dialect
these people's ancestors had spoken. Still, he was getting along well enough if he ever
decided to stay and farm around here.
Kaspar looked at the boy and said, 'You can get up.'
The boy rose. 'I can get out?'
Kaspar realized his inaccuracy and corrected it. 'I mean get up, but if you need to
go outside, do so.'
Despite his early behavior towards them, Jorgen had expected to be beaten or
killed, and Jojanna had expected to be raped. Not that she wasn't attractive enough in
a weather-beaten fashion, Kaspar conceded, but he had never acquired a taste for
unwilling womenтАФnot even for those who feigned willingness because of his wealth