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

Svartzee blue-black she had found so curious, breaking
froth-white on the small bay. A cluster of weathered buildings
grouped around a wharf, fishing boats beached among spread
nets. Trotting up from the wharf came a squad of horsemen, red
light bright on their lanceheads and scale mail.
 Rich, she thought. Metal armor for common soldiersтАж no,
guard-monks, Megan said. On the wall below, a monk swung a
padded beam hung in slings against a bell taller than herself.
The sound hung in hazy air, bronze and mellow and lovely.

Megan came up behind her and drew in deep lungfuls of air,
watching the lone monk, highlighted by the setting sun, the
moon already showing coin-round. "Smells like home."

"This priest," Shkai'ra said quietly. "How far can you trust
him?" Megan smiled, eyes hooded, watching the land through
the open window.

"When I left," she said slowly, "he was one of the two frehmat,
not blood-kin, whom I would have trusted with my knives."

Shkai'ra's lips puckered in a silent whistle, trust indeed.
"Before we give anything awayтАж" Megan shook herself and
turned away.

"Now who are you trying to teach?" She cocked a head toward
the door. "He's coming. With one other."

The door opened again, readmitting the Benaiat, earthstained
robe gone, replaced with one of red linen. The monk who
followed looked for somewhere to set the large tray. The only
place was the unsteady, sliding surface of papers on the desk. He
placed it on the bench. "A moment, Zar, " he said.

It was only a while before he returned with a light table, and
at the abbots nod, withdrew.

"Megan. Two years is a long time to search for a son." The
bittersweet scent of kahfe filled the room as he poured three
small cups, liquid thick and darker than earth. "You found
him?"

"My son? Is that the story Habiku spread?"

"Either that or that you were dead. I chose to believe the
former." Megan looked at him, shrugged as if she didn't care and
turned away so he couldn't see that it affected her. That he
caredтАж

"IvahnтАж the kahfe grows cold. Today, I stand on courtesy and