"Robin McKinley - Damar 1 - The Blue Sword" - читать интересную книгу автора (McKinley Robin)

"The Mines are awful to get to, though; the Ramids are very nasty going. Istan is on the only feasible
route to the Mines, and is the last town large enough to re-supply any caravan or company going that
way or coming back out again. That's why we got the railroad, finally. Before that we were the only
reason anyone would want to come so far, and our attractions are limited. But the Mines are the big thing
now. They may even figure out a way to dig a road through the Ramids. I wish them luck."
Istan also remained tactically important, for while south of it the boundary to Homelander territory
swung rapidly east, the Homelanders failed to push it back any nearer the mountains of the north and
east. The natives, perhaps from learning to cope with the desert to survive at all, had proved to be a
tougher breed than their southern cousins.
Some of this Harry had read at Home when she had first heard of Richard's posting three years
before. But she felt the reality of it now, with the western wind blowing down on her from the rich Aeel
Mines, and the odd greenish-bronze tint in the sky, and the brilliant red of the sunsets. She saw the dull
brown uniforms of the Homelander soldiers stationed here, with the red stripe vertically drawn over the
left breast that indicated they served in the Darian province of the Homelander sovereignty. There were
more soldiers, the farther they traveled. "It's still a sore point that Istan is the eastern frontier; we can't
seem to bear the idea that the border doesn't run straight, north to south, because we would like it to.
They keep threatening to mount new offensives, but Colonel Dedhamhe's in charge of the old Mundysays
that they won't do it. And who wants to own a lot of desert anyway? It's the farmland in the southand the
Minesthat make it worthwhile to be here."
She encouraged him to talk about Her Majesty's Government of the Royal Province of Daria, and if
she did not listen as closely as she might to the descriptions of the ranks and duties of the civil servants
Richard had the most contact with, she arrived at Istan at last with some small idea of how Homelanders
in general were expected to respond to Daria. And she had seen korf with her own eyes, and a band of
the wandering tinkers known as dilbadi, and the changing color of the earth underfoot, from the southern
red to central brown to northern yellow-grey. She knew a broad-leafed ilpin tree from the blue evergreen
torthuk, and when Lady Amelia met her with a corsage of the little rosy-pink pimchie flowers, she
greeted them by name.
Lady Amelia was a small round woman with big hazel eyes and curly grey hair and the wistful look of
the fading beauty. Her husband, Sir Charles, was as tall as Richard and much broader; he must ride
sixteen stone, Harry thought dispassionately as she shook his hand. He had a red face and white hair and
a magnificent mustache, and if his blue eyes were a little shallow, there were laugh lines generously
around them, and his smile was warm. She felt as if they had looked forward to her coming, and she
relaxed a little; there was none of the loftiness she was expecting toward a poor relationsomeone else's
poor relation at that. Sir Charles during the first evening gave her a complete history of Daria, its past, its
conquest by the Homelanders, its present, and its likely future, but most of it she was too tired to follow.
Lady Amelia's occasional quick comments, when her husband stopped to draw breath, about Harry's
present comfort were much more welcome, although she tried not to show it. But midway through the
evening, as Sir Charles was gesturing with his liqueur glass and even Richard was looking a bit
glassy-eyed, Lady Amelia caught her new charge's eye for a long moment. A look of patience and
affection passed between them; and Harry thought that perhaps all would be well, and she went up to
bed in good spirits.
For the first few days in Istan she unpacked, and looked around her, and only saw the newness of
everything. But the Homelanders of Istan were a small but thriving community, and she was the latest
addition to a society which looked forward to, and welcomed, and cross-examined, and talked about, its
additions.
She had always suffered from a vague restlessness, a longing for adventure that she told herself
severely was the result of reading too many novels when she was a small child. As she grew up, and
particularly after her mother died, she had learned to ignore that restlessness. She had nearly forgotten
about it, till now. She wondered sometimes if her brother felt that impatience of spirit too, if something
like it had had anything to do with his ending up at a small Border station, however tactically important,