"Katherine Kerr - Deverry 09 - The Red Wyvern" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kerr Katherine)

тАШEvandar? Is that the man of the Seelie Host? You know him?тАЩ

тАШBetter than I wish to, IтАЩll tell you, far far better than that. Now come in, lad, and letтАЩs get you warm.тАЩ

The door was creaking open to flood them with firelight and the smell of resinous smoke. They brushed
past the servant woman whoтАЩd opened it and hurried into a great hall where fires crackled in two hearths
of slabbed stone, one on either side of the square room. The walls were made of massive oak planks,
scrubbed down and polished smooth, then carved in one vast pattern of engraved lines rubbed with red
earth. Looping vines, spirals, animals, interlace - they all tangled together in great swags across each wall,
then swooped up at each corner to the rafters before plunging down again in a riot of carving...

Domnall followed his rescuers across the carpet of braided straw to the hearth at the far side. At a
scatter of tables sat a scatter of men, all short and bearded, and in a carved chair right up near the fire a
lady, wearing a pair of drab loose dresses and heavy with child. Like the men around her, she was not
very tall, more like the grain-fed Sassenach far to the south in stature, and since her pale hair hung in a
single braid, Sassenach is what he assumed her to be. Domnall knelt at her feet.

тАШMy lady,тАЩ he said. тАШMy thanks and my blessing to you, for the saving of my life.тАЩ

тАШMy men saved you, not me,тАЩ she said in a low, musical voice. тАШBut youтАЩre welcome in my hall.тАЩ She
glanced round. тАШOtho! Fetch him a tankard and some bread, will you?тАЩ
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тАШAs my lady Angmar commands.тАЩ One of the men, a bare four feet tall, and white of hair and beard,
rose from a table. тАШSit in the straw by the hearth, lad, and spread that bit of cloth youтАЩre draped in out to
dry.тАЩ

They had to be Sassenach, all of them, because they wore trousers and heavy shirts instead of proper
plaids and tunics, but he wasnтАЩt about to hold their birth against them after the way theyтАЩd rescued him.
Since the hearth was a good ten feet long, Domnall could move a decorous distance away from the lady
to sit near a brace of black and tan hounds. He unwound his plaid, stretched it out on the straw to dry,
and sat in his tunic by the fire to struggle with the wet bindings of his boots. By the time he had them off,
Otho had returned with the promised tankard and a basket of bread.

тАШA thousand thanks,тАЩ Domnall said. тАШSo, this is Haen Marn, is it? IтАЩve never seen your isle before.тАЩ

тАШHah!тАЩ Otho snorted profoundly. тАШAnd I wish I never had either.тАЩ

тАШUncle!тАЩ A young man sprang up from his seat at a table. тАШHold your tongue!тАЩ

тАШShanтАЩt! I rue the day that ever we travelled to this cursed place. I just get myself home and what
happens? Hah! Wretched dweomer and -тАЩ

тАШUncle!тАЩ The young man hurried over. тАШHush!тАЩ

тАШYou holdyour tongue, young Mic, and show some respect for your elders.тАЩ