"Modesitt, L E - Recluse 10 - The Magic Of Recluse" - читать интересную книгу автора (Modesitt L E)

Talryn let us stand for a little while longer, then nodded. "Please be seated. I think we should begin."
Even before we could get the heavy wooden chairs pulled out, Tamra appeared. Her hair was lightly curled and brighter than when I had first seen her, as if she had washed and shaped it, but it was as dry as if she had been sitting in the sun. She had also pulled it back from her face with a pair of dark combs.
She still wore the gray tunic and trousers, but a blue scarf around her neck added a touch of color. All in all, she made a striking appearance.
Talryn nodded to the empty space at his right.
Tamra opened her mouth, then shut it quickly as Talryn pulled out her chair for her. Her ice-blue eyes flashed like sun from a glacier.
Talryn moved the chair so easily that I tried to edge mine back with one hand. It didn't move. I quickly reached down with both hands and lifted it by its curved arms, sliding it back. Black oak, shaped and bent into a flattened point without a crest at the height of the chair back. The curved back was supported by four spokes twice the width used for household chairs. A flat black cushion covered the seat.
"If you are done inspecting the chair, Lerris, would you join us?"
"Sorry. The design ..." I sat down and edged the chair forward to the table. Again, it took two hands.
Everyone waited, looking at Talryn.
"Go ahead. There's no blessing, no incantations, no mysticism-just good food." He reached for the platter of breads. "After all of you have served yourselves, I will provide the explanation I promised."
I reached for the cheeses before me, spearing several with ! the long wooden-handled fork, just ahead of Krystal. She already had taken a sourpear and a chrysnet.
"Would you pass the cheeses?" Wrynn asked. Her voice was flat.
"You done?" I asked Krystal.
"Yes." When she wasn't giggling her voice almost sang when she talked, but it didn't sound affected.
At the other end of the table, Tamra had piled her plate with everything in sight-sourpears, apples, cheeses, breads, and meat.
Beside me, Krystal offered the meat platter.
"Thank you."
She nodded, and, after removing several slices, I took the serving plate from her and offered it to Wrynn. The blond woman took twice what I had heaped on my plate, without looking at me-leaving me still holding the platter.
"Wrynn . . . would you pass this to Myrten?"
The woman still didn't look at me, but took the platter with a sigh and thrust it in front of Myrten, almost hitting him in the nose as he bent forward.
"Thank you." Myrten's voice was pleasant enough, but it sounded as though he had polished each word.
Wrynn said nothing to him, either.
I lifted the mug, sipping gingerly, and found it was some sort of juice combination-light, with a touch of sparkle.
Krystal, to my right, had produced a small knife and dissected her sourpear into neat slices. Just as quickly, she had eaten nearly half of the fruit. I tried not to gape, instead smearing some redberry jam over a thick slice of bread and munching through that, interspersing it with some of the yellow cheese.
"Where are you from?" I finally asked Krystal.
"Oh, from Extina."
I'd never heard of Extina.
"A little village near Land's End. No one else has ever heard of it, either." The small knife flashed, and the chrysnet lay in quarters, the pit removed nearly effortlessly. "What about you?"
"Wandernaught."
"Oh ... is it true what they say about it?" She giggled, spoiling the momentary impression of a calm and dark beauty.
"What they say about it?" I'd never heard anything said about it.
"You know," Krystal giggled again, "that nothing ever happens there because the Institute really runs the Brotherhood." She popped two orangish chrysnet quarters into her mouth, one right after the other.
"Oooofff ..." I choked on the last part of her question. The Institute running the Brotherhood? That collection of four buildings where people just gathered to talk to each other?
"Are you all right, Lerris?" broke in Talryn from the other end of the table. All conversation died away for a moment.
I nodded, managed to swallow the suddenly very dry bread, and reached for the mug of fruit punch, ignoring the glint in Tamra's eyes as she watched my discomfort.
Krystal, her eyes on me, brought forth the little knife and, with deft cuts, not even looking, created four miniature sandwiches out of a slab of white cheese, some dark bread, and one thick slab of buffalo.
I swallowed again.
"Are you sure you're all right?" Krystal asked, her voice concerned for the first time.
"Yes . . . just surprised. I've been to the Institute many times, even heard my father speak there, but no one acted as though they were running anything at all-except their mouths. It was boring . . . very boring." I took another sip from the massive brown mug. "You are right about one thing. Nothing ever happens in Wandernaught." I stopped, realizing that tears were welling up in the corners of Krystal's eyes. "Are you-did I say something?"
She shook her head, pursing her lips together.
Wrynn had stopped shoveling in her food and was listening, as was Sammel on the other side of Krystal. Myrten pretended not to listen as he played with a sourpear. Tamra, Talryn, and Dorthae were discussing shipping, or ships.
Krystal swallowed.
I waited, suddenly not as hungry as I had thought.
"It's just. . ." Krystal began, ". . . your father, to even speak there . . . and you're younger than anyone here . . . and you have to do dangergeld . . ." She shook her head slowly, the sandwiches left neatly on her platter.
My head seemed ready to lift off my shoulders.
"Is your father a master?" blurted out Wrynn.
I shrugged. "He never said so. He never did anything that made me think so, and he never wore black. I never thought about it. My mother is a skilled potter. People come from as far as Austra to buy her vases and figurines. My father was always the holder . . ."
"You sound as though you are reconsidering," observed Myrten. His voice was even more polished, as if oil-coated.
"I don't know. He's always talked a lot about the importance of order. I found it boring. Still do."
Krystal sniffed. "... no mercy . . ."