"Ed Greenwood - Spellfire" - читать интересную книгу автора (Greenwood Ed)half-bar and snarled, "Get in!" The expected pinching and slap came as she
staggered across the uneven floor with the water. "Don't spill any of that, mind! There are dishes waiting, sluggard! Move that shapely little behind of yours!" Korvan rumbled, ending with his horrible, barking laugh. Shandril set her teeth grimly under the yoke. Someday she'd be free of this! тАв 14* SPELLFIBE The evening grew cool, as it often did in the dale after a hot day, mist gathering in the trees. The Rising Moon's taproom filled up quickly. The townsfolk of Highmoon had done business with the Company of the Bright Spear, and the veterans had come to take their measure and perhaps swap some tales. Shandril managed one quick peek at the taproom and saw the company holding court, all boisterous Jests and laughter, at the central tables. A scattering of local veterans sat nearer the bar, and at the small tables along the wall were other visitors. Shandril noticed two lady adventurers close to the bar. Noticed, and stared. They were beautiful. Tall, slimтАФand free to do as they pleased. Shandril gazed at them in wonder from the shadows. Both of the women wore leather and plate half-armor without color or blazon. Long, plain scabbards at their hips held swords and daggers that looked to have seen heavy use. Their cloaks were also plain, but of the finest cloth and make. Shandril was surprised at the soft beauty of the two and the quiet grace of their movementsтАФno red-faced oxen, these. But what struck her most was their calm self-assurance. They were what she longed to be. Shandril stared at them from the darkness of the passageтАФuntil Korvan came out of the kitchen with a roar. He plucked Shandril passage and into the kitchen. "Do /stand and gawk? If I did, what would the guests eat then?' was all Korvan said, in a fierce whisper with his stub-bled face an inch from hers, and Shandril feared for her life. If there was one thing Korvan cared about, it was his cooking. For a wild moment, as he thrust a bowl of potatoes at her, Shandril considered attacking her tormentor with a kitchen knife, but that wasn't the sort of 'adventure' she wanted. But as she washed and cleaned out three hares under Kor-van's hot glare, Shandril knew that she'd had more than enough of this treatment. She was going to do somethingto get out of here. Tonight. "A good place, I've heard," said the mage Marimmar in the ED GREENWOOD last blue light of dusk, as their ponies carried them down through the trees toward the lanterns of Deepingdale. " Mind you say nothing of our business or destination, boy. If asked, you know nothing. You are not even all that interested in Myth Drannor?' Narm Tamaraith nodded In weary silence, and his master turned on him sharply in the gloom. "Do you hear, boy? Answerf "Aye, Lord, tтАФnodded, not thinking you would not see. 1 beg full pardon. I will say nothing of Myth Drannorf' Nairn's master, Marimmar "the Magnificent" (Narm had heard him called other things occasionally, but never to his face), snorted. " 'Not thinking*! That's the problem, boy, too much of the time. Well, think! |
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