"02 - The Wyvern's Spur - Jeff Grubb & Kate Novak [4.0]" - читать интересную книгу автора (Finder's Stone)

Thomas's look of incredulity turned to one of concern. "Are you feeling all
right, sir?"
"Splendid, except that my feet are getting cold," Giogi said with a grin.
Without another word, Thomas spun about and disappeared through the archway into
Servant Land.
Giogi twisted sideways on the bench to keep his stockinged feet off the chilly
floorboards. He ran a finger along the smooth parquetry worked into the wooden
bench's high back. One of his earliest childhood memories was of his father
explaining to him the picture in the bench. It depicted the moment the family
had gotten its patronymic, "way back," as his father used to say, "in the days
before we knew which spoon to use for the soup course." In the design, Paton
Wyvernspur, the family founder, stood before a great female wyvern. Two tiny
hatchling wyverns played at the monster's feet, and behind her lay the corpse of
her mate. Bandits had killed her mate and stolen her eggs from her nest, but
Paton had tracked down and vanquished the thieves and restored the young wyverns
to their mother. In gratitude, the female wyvern had sliced off her mate's right
spur and conferred it upon Giogi's forefather with the promise that his family
line would never dwindle while the spur remained in the family's possession.
Later, when he was older and had learned that wyverns weren't considered very
nice beasts, Giogi often wondered why Paton had helped the female wyvern. By
that time, though, Giogi's father and mother were both dead, and Giogi couldn't
bring himself to ask Aunt Dorath or Uncle Drone. He sensed instinctively that it
would be branded a question only a fool such as himself would ask.
He wasn't fool enough to part with the bench, though. It had been a wedding gift
from his mother to his father, and while the other Wyvernspurs scorned the
wealthy carpenter's daughter that Cole Wyvernspur had wed, they all coveted the
bench. The carpentry was solid, and the parquetry picture positively hypnotic.
Aunt Dorath had suggested a number of times that the bench ought to sit in the
hall of Redstone, the family manor, and last year, before his marriage to Gaylyn
Dimswart, Giogi's second Cousin Frefford had hinted it would make a lovely
wedding gift, but Giogi declined to part with it.
Bored by inactivity, Giogi bounced to his stocking feet and began tossing back
into the closet all the things he'd tossed out.
Thomas appeared in the archway, holding out the knee-high, brown-suede dodders,
which, by his master's own declaration, were the most comfortable pair in the
Realms. "Please, sir," the servant requested, "don't trouble yourself with
putting those things away. I'll be happy to do it."
Giogi halted in midtoss of a lone wool mitten. Something in Thomas's tone
revealed the servant's anxiety. Giogi noticed that the inside of the closet was
now as untidy as the outside. "Sorry, Thomas," he apologized meekly.
"That's quite all right, sir," Thomas said, setting the boots beside the bench.
"Ah, my boots! Excellent!" Giogi sat back down on the bench and pulled the right
boot on, then slipped the stone into the brim.
"Are you certain, sir, you wouldn't rather ride?" Thomas asked.
Giogi, one foot still unshod, looked up at his manservant. "It may surprise you
to know, Thomas, that when I was on my mission for the crown, I often walked
great distances." Giogi did not feel it necessary to add that he had walked
great distances whenever forced to because some scurrilous cove had stolen his
horse or some equally evil beast had devoured his mount.
"Indeed, sir. I did not mean to suggest you weren't up to the task. I just