"Jane Lindskold - Firekeeper Saga 4 - Wolf Captured" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lindskold Jane)

he woke. Compared with the wolf, she was nose-dead, just as compared with most humans she was
astonishingly sensitive.

The reminder of her companions' drugged state gave a fresh urgency to her desire to break free. One by
one she tested the bars. Each was solid in itself, but a few moved promisingly within the sockets that held
them in the wood. If she had her Fang, she could have enlarged the hole, but the knife, along with the
small pouch in which she carried flint and steel, had been taken from her.

She patted herself down to see what remained to her. She wore a long-sleeved cotton dress, certainly
soiled by now. Originally, it had been pale blue with red trim, the colors of House Kestrel, the Great
House into which she had been adopted. She had refused the matching slippers, but accepted a strand of
coordinated glass beads. These had gone the way of her knife. The little cap that had started the evening
pinned to her hair had been missing long before she'd been lured from the dancing.

Not much to work with. She was wondering if Derian had been as thoroughly disarmed when she heard
footsteps on the deck directly above. These stopped and a moment later a square of light appeared off to
one side. Almost as soon as it appeared, it was occluded by the shape of a man climbing down the
angled steps of a ladder. He was followed by an arm that handed down a lantern, and then the owner of
the arm also climbed down. Finally, a third man descended. With a chill, Firekeeper recognized the dark
man.

Blind Seer and Derian were well and truly out of it, and she decided it would be to her advantage to
appear at least somewhat disoriented. She debated pretending unconsciousness, but decided against that
immediately. Although she had been doing her best to ignore it, she was very thirsty, and if the men did
not offer her water, she must ask.

Another advantage of not pretending to be asleep was that she could see everything they did. So when
the circle of lantern light came over by the cages Firekeeper was sitting up, her arms wrapped around her
knees, her chin resting on her folded arms.

"Rarby, hang the lantern up," the dark man said. He spoke Pellish, the language common to Bright Bay
and Hawk Haven, but with an accent Firekeeper had never heard before. "I may need your assistance."

"Right, Harjeedian," Rarby said.

Rarby was a big man, both tall and broad. The bright blue-and-white-striped sweater he wore
emphasized that breadth. His accent was familiar, though with more of the sound of Bright Bay to it,
Firekeeper thought. Not surprising, since he and his companion were both obviously sailors and Bright
Bay traditionally followed the sea.

The other man resembled Rarby closely enough that Firekeeper guessed they were brothers. This second
man was a touch taller, but not as broad as Rarby. He wore a knit cap in the same blue and white, pulled
tight to his ears. His chin seemed both pale and reddish. Firekeeper realized after a moment's thought that
he must have very recently shaved off a heavy beard.

Then she recognized him. The newly shorn man was the one who had lured her from the dancing. Rarby
was the man who had cut Derian. She swallowed a growl. They must think her weak.

Harjeedian saw Firekeeper move and crossed to stand in front of her cage. Firekeeper noticed that he
stopped an arm's length away. She didn't think this was accidental. In the lantern light, she got a far better