"Katherine Kerr - Deverry 06 - A Time Of Omens" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kerr Katherine)

тАЬRhodry, you donтАЩt understand us still, do you? How long have you lived with us now? Thirteen,
fourteen years? Well, think back over it. YouтАЩve heard plenty of people mentionDeland his son, havenтАЩt
you? And how? Exactly like theyтАЩd mention anyone else they know. You have more real power than he
does, as a matter of fact. YouтАЩre my second, and the men all respect you, and so the People would take
your orders long before theyтАЩd take his. Nothing can take his position away fromDel, mind. HeтАЩs
HalaberielтАЩs son, and Halaberiel was BerenaladarтАЩs, and Berenaladar was the son of Ranadar, King of
theHighMountain, and thatтАЩs that. But since the wolves and the owls and the weeds are running his
kingdom these days, well, by the Dark Sun herself! HeтАЩs got no call to be giving himself airs over it.тАЭ

Baffled, Rhodry shook his head Calonderiel was right, he supposed. He didnтАЩt understand the People,
and at times like these, he doubted if he ever would.

On the morrow, with the autumn meeting or alardan as it was called in full swing, his loneliness seemed
to double itself. Since it was the last festival before the long trip south to the winter camps, it was a big
one. Whenever a new traveling group arrived, some ten families and their horses and sheep, everyone
rushed to greet old friends, not seen since the height of summer, and to help them unpack and settle in.
Time to visit was short; the herds would crop the available grazing down fast, and the meeting would
disperse. Rhodry wandered through the brightly painted tents by himself, saying the occasional hello or
exchanging smiles and nods with someone whom he recognized. Wildfolk swarmed everywhere, grinning
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and gaping, dashing back and forth, pulling dogsтАЩ tails and childrenтАЩs hair, then suddenly vanishing only to
stream back into manifestation a few feet away. Among the People themselves, everyone was rushing
around, getting ready for the enormous feast that evening. Here and there he found groups of musicians,
tuning their instruments together and squabbling over what to play; here and there cooks were drawing
and dressing slaughtered lambs or pooling precious hoards of Bardek spices. Children ran to and fro,
bringing twigs and scraps of bark or baskets of dried dung to the cooking fires that were, as always on
the grasslands, short of fuel.

At one of the fires Rhodry found Enabrilia, sitting on a wooden chest, her two grandsons fighting at her
feet over a pair of pottery horses. She looked tired, that morning, and scattered through her golden hair
shone an obvious sprinkling of gray. When Rhodry hunkered down next to her, she smiled at him, then
went back to peeling roots with a small knife.

тАЬThe warbandтАЩs always in the way when thereтАЩs work to be done,тАЭ she remarked, but pleasantly.
тАЬHanging round asking when the foodтАЩs going to be cooked and distracting the girls who are supposed to
be working. YouтАЩre all the same, you know.тАЭ

тАЬWell, thatтАЩs true enough. I thought IтАЩd come distract you.тАЭ

тАЬOh, get along with you! IтАЩm old enough to be your grandmotherтАФwell, three times over, no doubt, and
I feel every one of my years this morning, I tell you.тАЭ

тАЬIs something wrong?тАЭ

тАЬOldanaтАЩs having one of her bad turns again.тАЭ She paused with a significant look at the boys, all ears at