"Terry Goodkind - Sword Of Truth 10 - Phantom" - читать интересную книгу автора (Goodkind Terry)

Kahlan knew without doubt that using such a tone of voice with Sister Ulicia was the wrong thing
to do, but the Sister, instead of exploding in a rage, seemed to be just as astonished as Kahlan.
"I know that, but what does she look like? Tell me what you see."
Orlan straightened, pulling his collar away from her grip. His features drew tight as he appraised
the stranger only he and the Sisters saw standing in the weak light of the lanterns.
"Thick hair. Green eyes. A very attractive woman. She'd look a lot better if she were dried out,
although those wet things on her do tend to show off what she's made of." He began to smile in a
way that Kahlan didn't like one bit, even if she was overjoyed that he really saw her. "Mighty fine
figure on her," he added, more to himself than the Sister.
His slow and deliberate evaluation made Kahlan feel naked. As his gaze roamed over her, he
wiped the corner of his mouth with a thumb. She could hear it rasp against his stubble. One of the
sticks of wood in the hearth caught flame, brightening the room in its flickering glow, letting him
see even more. His gaze wandered upward, and then caught on something.

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"Her hair is as long as70;"
Orlan's bawdy smile evaporated.
He blinked in surprise. His eyes widened. "Dear spirits," he whispered as his face went ashen. He
dropped to a knee. "Forgive me," he said, addressing Kahlan. "I didn't recognize52;"
The room rang with a crack as Sister Ulicia whacked him across the top of the head with her oak
rod, dropping him to both knees.
"Silence!"
"What's the matter with you!" the man's wife cried out as she rushed to her husband's side. She
squatted, putting an arm around his shoulders to steady him as he groaned and put a big hand
over the bloody wound on the top of his bowed head. His sandy-colored hair turned dark and wet
under his fingers.
"Are all of you crazy!" She cradled her husband's head to her breast, where a red stain grew
against her nightdress. He appeared stunned senseless. "Unless you travel in the company of a
spirit, there are only three of you! How dare you52;"
"Silence," Sister Ulicia growled in a way that gave Kahlan an icy shiver and made the woman's
mouth snap closed.
Rain paltered against the window while in the distance a slow rumble of thunder rolled through
the forested hills. Kahlan could hear the sign squeaking as it swung to and fro each time the wind
gusted. Inside the house it had gone dead silent. Sister Ulicia looked over at the girl, now at the
bottom of the steps, where she stood gripping the simple, square, wooden newel post.
Sister Ulicia fixed the girl in a glare that only a sorceress in a vile mood could marshal. "How
many visitors do you see?"
The girl stood wide-eyed, too frightened to speak.
"How many?" Sister Ulicia asked again, this time through gritted teeth in a voice so threatening
that it made the girl's grip on the newel post tighten until her fingers stood out white and
bloodless against the dark wood.
The girl finally answered in a meek voice. "Three."
Sister Armina, looking like bottled thunder, leaned close. "Ulicia, what's going on? This isn't
supposed to be possible. Not possible at all. We cast the verification webs."
"Exterior," Sister Cecilia corrected.
Sister Armina blinked at the older woman. "What?"
"We only cast exterior verification webs. We didn't do an interior review."