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

thought that after your strenuous journey you might prefer the luxury of riding.
If not in the carriage, I can saddle Daisyeye."
"No, thank you, Thomas," Giogi said, finally pulling on the other boot.
"Daisyeye deserves a good, long rest, and I really want to walk." He rose,
whipped his cloak about him with a flourish, and stomped to the front door.
"Don't bother to wait up for me," he suggested. "I expect I'll be quite late.
Good night," he called out before he plunged outside.
In town, everything was brown; the buildings, the grass, the muddy roads, the
wooden carts, even the horses and oxen, were shades of umber and tan. Townhouses
blocked out the late afternoon sun and cast long chocolate shadows on the earth.
Women shouted out the windows at dirt-caked children in the streets. It was as
if the gods had run out of other colors by the time they reached that part of
Immersea, left it etched in one shade, then hadn't bothered to mix new paint to
fill in the color.
Giogi walked east, away from the center of town, then turned south onto a trail
that led from town to the Wyvernspur estate. A low wall surrounded the land, and
the lanky noble swung his legs over it easily and entered another world, one
that the gods had colored. Stalks of winter rye glittered like jade in the
setting sunlight; purple-specked crocuses sparkled with gemlike raindrops; a
great flock of wild geese honked overhead in the deepening blue sky. Giogi felt
his spirits rise and shook off the gloom that had gripped him in his own house.
He struck out along the path through the fields. As the town founders, the
Wyvernspurs held title to nearly all the land south of town. Most of the land
was set aside for hunting and riding. The highest hill was dedicated to the
goddess Selune, and the temple at its peak was left to the administration of her
priestess, ancient Mother Lleddew. The Wyvernspurs resisted, however,
cultivating much of the land, felling many trees, or clearing many fields for
cattle. They were nobles, not farmers or foresters or ranchers. The
CormaerilsЧthe only other titled family in ImmerseaЧregularly planted nearly a
hundred acres, but had been nobility for only four generations. Giogi feared
that, after fifteen generations, the Wyvernspurs were too entrenched in relying
on the family fortune as their only source of revenue.
As Giogi emerged from the fields of rye, the sun was no more than half a palm's
width from the horizon, and the air was already turning chill. The path wound
down into the valley of the Immer Stream. The noble kept up a quick pace to keep
warm, but as he approached the northern bank of the stream he was forced to
proceed more cautiously. The trail grew marshy, and he picked his way from one
tuft of dry grass to the next. His boots were reasonably waterproof, but he
didn't want to arrive at Aunt Dorath's looking a mess.
Finally, after a long period of testing footfalls and doubling back, he reached
the footbridge that crossed the stream. To the west of the trail, the Immer
Stream flowed down from the hill dedicated to Selune. To the south of the
stream, the trail climbed onto drier ground and up to Redstone Castle, ancestral
home of the Wyvernspurs.
Just as Giogi clomped onto the bridge, a fine white strand of something whipped
out in front of him. With a shriek the nobleman leaped backward with visions of
giant spiders and a sudden irrational belief in the curse of the wyvern's spur.
The white strand was not followed by others, though, giving Giogi the
opportunity to clutch his chest in relief and spot the silhouette of a man on
the southern shore.