"Mercedes Lackey - Mage Winds 1 - Winds Of Fate" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lackey Mercedes)

leather-oil, and dust. "But I-"

"You know leatherwork, don't you?" Kerowyn asked, her generous mouth
twitching as if she were trying not to laugh. Elspeth squirmed
uncomfortably on the wooden bench, feeling very much like a tiny brown
mouse facing a bored cat.

"Yes, but-" You've seen me and Alberich repair armor before, haven't
you?" the mercenary-captain-turned-Herald continued with patient logic,
arms folded across her chest. Elspeth looked from Kerowyn's
weather-tanned face to the dust motes dancing in the sunlight to the
whitewashed walls of the salle in hope of finding an answer.

She was unable to come up with one. She'd been put directly under
Kerowyn's command this week, in lieu of the "usual" duties of a Herald.
Those "usual" duties-riding circuit on a Sector, acting as lawbringer,
occasional judge, paramilitary advisor, and general
troubleshooterbrought a Herald into areas of significant risk-risk the
Council was not willing to take with the Heir to the Throne.

So her assigned duty at the moment consisted of doing whatever Herald
Kerowyn told her to do. She'd assumed her tasks would be things like
acting as an assistant trainer, perhaps. Learning command tactics.

Perhaps even acting as liaison between Kerowyn's mercenary Company and
the Council.

Especially since the Council members still weren't certain what to do
with a mercenary Captain who was also a Herald.

These were all things she knew how to do-or at least make a start on.
After all, those were the kinds of things Heralds were supposed to do.
They were not supposed to be repairing armor.

"Yes, but-" she repeated weakly, not knowing what else to say.

"You don't happen to think you're too good to repair armor ..."
Kerowyn's tone held a certain silky menace that told Elspeth that
someone had given Herald Kerowyn chapter and verse on the ill-tempered
Royal Brat. Of course, the Brat was a phase she had long ago outgrown,
but some people couldn't seem to forget that stage of her life.

"No!" she said hastily. "But-"

"But why do I want you to repair armor-especially when it's someone
else's job?" Kerowyn unbent enough to smile and shifted her weight to
her right foot. "Let's play 'just suppose' for a moment. Let's suppose
you are-for some reason-out in the back of beyond. Not even alone.

We could have a situation like the one that brought me up here in the