"Garry Kilworth - The Sculptor" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kilworth Garry)

"I was searching for my mother's house."
"Here, in the desert?"
Her brown eyes were soft in the firelight.
"It wasn't always a desert," she said. "I thought there might be something
left - a few bricks, stones, something."
NiccolЄ nodded. He guessed she was one of those who went out searching for
their roots. Lost now, but lost before she even came into the desert. One
of those who had been separated as a child from her family during the
exodus, and had found out her father's name, where her parents had lived,
and had gone looking to see if there was anything left.
He stared around him, his eyes sweeping over the low and level plain. Only
a short three decades ago there had been a thriving community here, the
suburbs of a city. On the very place where they were sitting buildings had
stood, streets had run. The city had been so vast it took many days to
travel by coach-and-six from its centre to the outskirts.
Now there was nothing but dust.
"I can't take you with me," he said. "I'm heading for the Tower . . ." he
nodded towards the marvellous structure that dominated the eastern sky,
taller than any mountain in the region, so tall its heights were often
lost in the clouds. Since it was evening, lights had begun to encrust the
Tower, like a sprinkling of early stars.
She said timidly, "I can come with you."
"No. I don't have the food or the water to carry a passenger. I have just
enough for my own needs, and no more. I'll point you in the right
direction. You can make the river in five, maybe six days, on foot. The
first refugee camp is two days on from there."
She looked at him with a shocked expression on her face.
"I'll die of thirst."
"That's not my fault. I came across you by chance. I didn't have anything
to do with your being here. You might make it. I'll give you a little
water, as much as I can spare."
"No," she said firmly, hugging her legs and staring into the fire, "you'll
take me with you."
He did not answer her, having nothing more to say. NiccolЄ of course did
not want to send her out there, and he knew she was right, she probably
would die, but he had no choice. His mission depended on him making the
journey safely. To ensure success, he needed to do that alone, without any
encumbrances. She would hold him back, drink his water, eat his food, spy
on him, probe for his secrets. He would probably have to kill more than
one camel to get to the Tower, if he took her along too. It was not in his
plans.
Finally, he spoke.
"We must get some rest, we both need it."
NiccolЄ gave her the sleeping bag and used a horse blanket himself. Once
the sun was down, it was bitterly cold, the ground failing to retain the
heat. She moved closer to him for warm, and the fire blocked his retreat.
He had not been with a woman for so long, he had almost forgotten how
pyrotechnical the experience could be. Just before dawn she crawled under
the blanket with him and said, "Take me - please," and though he knew that
the words had a double-meaning, that he was committing himself to