"Recluce - 07 - The Chaos Balance" - читать интересную книгу автора (Modesitt L E)

аа The smith reined up by the pit and studied the slumping sides. Then he
shook his head. "Now we need a pump. Every time I think I've gotten
caught up, there's something else I need to make."
аа "That's true everywhere." Ayrlyn stopped her chestnut and turned her
face into the sun. "Without the breeze, it feels almost warm."
аа "It is warm," Nylan protested, loosening his jacket, almost
theatrically.
аа "For those of you raised in the Sybran freezer, maybe. For normal
souls, it's still cold as mid-winter on decent worlds."
аа "Decent is a matter of opinion, my beloved healer."
аа "You never called me your beloved healer before, even joking."
аа "I should have. I thought it."
аа "I need to hear things like that. I may feel your pain, dear engineer,
but my ability to sense order flows in bodies doesn't translate thoughts,
no matter what people say."
аа "You never called me 'dear' before, either," Nylan said.
аа "Tit for tat." Ayrlyn grinned, then gestured. "This project looks all
right."
аа "I worry more about the mill. We just had to leave it, you know."
аа "Your heroics on the battlefield didn't leave you in any shape to do
much until well after the snows came, you might recall."
аа "They weren't heroics," Nylan said dryly. "And you weren't in much
better shape, I believe." The engineer patted the mare's shoulder, then
urged her uphill past the ovens toward the uncompleted sawmill-mostly a
flat expanse that comprised the foundation for the mill, and the stone
and brick wall next to the end of the snow-filled millrace. The troubles
he'd had trying to create even the center of the mill wheel the fall
before!
аа The smith flicked the reins and eased the mare uphill again through
the knee-deep slush and toward the dark wall of the mill pond that
extended from the canyon rock face on his right to the hillside slope a
hundred cubits or more to his left.
аа He reined up short of the water that poured downhill like ice-blue
crystal. Shards of ice still littered the frozen sand and rocky edges of
the narrow creek. A gaping hole had been ripped in the millpond wall
between the two drainage gates. "Who did that?" asked Ayrlyn, halting her
mount farther downstream.
аа "Ice, probably." The smith shook his head. "I'd guess it will be two
eight-days before the ground's melted and firm enough to start repairs.
Next year, we ought to drain it in the fall, leave both gates open."
аа The mare whuffed, and Nylan turned her downhill, letting her walk
until she was out of the snow and on the narrow road by the brickworks.
While he waited for Ayrlyn, he studied the area again. The mill was going
to be as much of a pain as he'd remembered. Maybe that was why the
oldtime millers were always wealthy. Somehow, he didn't feel so
enthusiastic about building the mill.
аа "You know," said Ayrlyn as she stopped her mount beside his and
fastened her jacket up as the breeze stiffened. "You talk as if there
will be a next year."
аа "No one's going to challenge Westwind this year, are they? Karthanos