"Shirley Meier & S. M. Stirling - Fifth Millenium 03 - The Cage" - читать интересную книгу автора (Meier Shirley)

"Thank you, my friend," she said and took his hand in both of
hers, smiling, missing his startled look. Smiles were an
expression Megan had seldom worn, before. Sixteen when she
killed Sarngeld and took his ship, five short years to build the
House of the Sleeping Dragon into a force to be reckoned with
along the Brezhan, in all that time seldom more than an ironic
twist of the lips; and she touched others even less, only when
courtesy demanded and that with reluctance.

Shkai'ra saw the quickly hidden flash of surprise, and grinned
to herself. She had had time to see the change in Megan, like the
slow unfolding of a plant as winter relaxed its grip; all these old
friends were seeing it suddenly, the changes of two years
matched on the template of unaltered memories. They were
making heavy weather of it.

"Vra Walatri," the Benaiat addressed the Vra still holding the
basket. "Since the Captain and her friend have graciously come
to visit, I will not sup with the Siblings." He turned to his guests.
You will accept a meal, I hope," he continued, letting go Megan's
hand and turning to lead them under the stone arches toward
his private chambers.
 "Thank you, Ivahn," Megan said.

"For three then, Vra: in my rooms."

"Benaiat," the Monk bowed, before padding away on silent
bare feet, without the whispery scuff of sandals.

"I am glad that your pride doesn't forbid a accepting a little
hospitality," Ivahn said.

The Zak could feel his appraisal of their ragged clothes and
weather-beaten skins. Shkai'ra hitched at the small wooden
chest slung beneath her shoulder, a corner flashing through a
rent in the soft brown wool of her cloak.

"Your charity honors the recipient." Megan spread her hand
at her companion. "Ivahn, may I present Shkai'ra Mek
Kermak's-kin shchi Akribhan."

The Benaiat's brows rose toward his hairline as he inclined
his head to the tall red-blonde barbarian. Akribhan was a word
of complex meanings in the high-Zakos tongue they had been
speaking: "acknowledged lover" was only the first of them, with
connotations of absolute trust, as close a commitment as could
be, short of marriage; Megan had the reputation of a solitary,
and this one was not even a Zak. Her plain tunic and breeches of
wool and horsehide were commonplace enough, but the cast of
the aquiline features was not of any tribe he knew. That saberтАж