"Ed Greenwood - Shandril's Saga 01 - Spellfire" - читать интересную книгу автора (Greenwood Ed)

sticky. Some folk came to The Rising Moon just because of Korvan's cooking.

Shandril had heard the story about how KorvanтАФ younger and slimmer thenтАФhad
once
been a cook in the Royal Palace of Cormyr, in the fair city of Suzail. There
had
been some trouble (probably over a girl, Shandril thought darkly, perhaps
even
one of the princesses of Cormyr), and he'd had to leave Cormyr in some haste,
banished therefrom upon pain of death.
Shandril wondered, as she eyed a soapy platter critically, what would happen
if




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she ever managed to get Korvan drunk senseless or knocked cold with a skillet
and somehow could drag him through the Thunder Gap and over the border into
Cormyr. Perhaps King Azoun himself would appear out of thin air and say to
the
Cormyrean border guards, "Here he is!" and without hesitating they'd draw
their
swords and hack off Korvan's head. She smiled at the thought. Perhaps he'd
plead
for mercy or cry in fear.
Shandril snorted. Great chance, indeed, of that ever happening! He was here,
now, and too lazy to ever go anywhereтАФand too fat for most horses to carry
him,
if it came to that. No, he was trapped here, and she was trapped with him.
She
scrubbed a fork fiercely until its two tines gleamed in the sunlight. Yes,
trapped.
It had been a long time before she'd realized it. She had no parents, no
kinтАФand
no one would even admit to knowing where she'd come from. She had always been
here, it seemed, doing the dirty work in the old roadside inn among the
trees.
It was a good inn, everyone said. Other places must be worse, Shandril
reasoned,
but she had never seen them. She could not remember ever having been inside
any
other building, ever. After sixteen summers, all she knew of her town of
Highmoon was what she could see from the inn-yard. She'd never more than
thought
of running away or just slipping off to have a look. She was always too busy,
too behind with her work, or too tired.
There was always work to be done. Each spring she even washed the ceilings of