"Flynn-ThePromiseOfGod" - читать интересную книгу автора (Flynn Michael)

"Stay, child. We have matters to discuss." Nealy listened to the wivmen while he
arranged the goblets and removed the wine from the coldbox. Sometimes he felt as
if he were both at a play and in it; as if he were watching and waiting and was
occasionally called upon to speak lines written by someone else, words as
surprising to him as to anyone.

Agnes stood stiffly and wrung the homespun gown in her fist. "I was not. . . I
did not come to swyve your wereman."

Greta laughed. "So. Then, button up. Don't wave a musket you don't mean to fire.
Nealy, dear, would you have taken her if she had offered?"

And that was most definitely a cue. Nealy handed Greta her goblet, half-full of
chased kosher Oneida. He looked at Greta, looked into her eyes, before handing
Agnes the guest's goblet. He imagined what Agnes looked like, imagined her pink
and rosy nakedness-- younger, firmer than Greta, smooth and soft and warm,
smelling of sweat and rut. Imagined her wrapping herself around him. Quite the
bellibone. "Yes," he decided as he took a sip from his own goblet.

"If you ever made up your mind." Greta also sipped. Over the cup rim, she
glanced at Agnes, glanced at Nealy. "He will eventually, you know. Make up his
mind. If I am away too long. If he has no more chores set for him. He has some
will left in him."

"Idle hands are the devil's tools," agreed Nealy. He wondered if Greta would
tell him to lick Agnes. He hoped so; he felt himself growing werile at the
thought. Tell me I can. Tell me I can. Greta smiled at him, no doubt noticing,
then turned a stem eye on Agnes. "You came about the fleas, didn't you? Don't
deny it. And after I told you. You keep yourself clean, you keep your dogs in
the yard. You don't need any Other Way."

"It's easier the Other Way," Agnes said petulantly. Nealy thought the young man
had a point, but Greta looked at Nealy; and Nealy saw infinite sadness behind
the eyes. "No," said Greta. "No, it is not." She studied the wine in her goblet
and was quiet for a long while. Nealy wondered if she was trying to foresee and
was on the part of offering to do it for her when she spoke. "You know that
going the Other Way eats the soul, yngling."

"Everyone knows that, mistress."

"But do you know what that means? Do you feel it here?" Greta slapped herself on
the bosom. "By Hermes, Jesus and St. Mahound!" she swore. "What can you possibly
know?"

Agnes shrank away and the goblet fell from her fingers, splashing an ablution
across the outer hearth. "No, mistress. Plainly, I do not. I --"

"Oh, child." Greta's voice was heavy. "Nealy, were you about to spell her fleas
away?"