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

too much resentment there for it to be safe for either of them.
аа Nylan racked the hammers and checked the metal blank that would soon
be another deadly shortsword, then eased on his jacket before heading out
of the smithy and down toward the tower.
аа A handful of newer guards, led by Murkassa, one of the first locals to
seek out Westwind, walked swiftly down from the canyon that held
livestock and mounts, but they were several hundred paces up the road
from the smithy. The round-faced and brown-haired guard lifted a hand in
greeting, and Nylan returned it before turning onto the road.
аа Nylan had barely cooled off before he stepped through the main door to
Tower Black. He squinted in the far dimmer light of the tower, but took a
deep breath of the fresh-baked dark bread that Blynnal did so well and
the aroma of something else-the mint-spiced stew, he thought, probably
created around the remnants of the deer that Ayrlyn had brought in two
days earlier, after the light dusting of snow from a spring storm.
аа "Nylan?" Istril, carrying her son Weryl in her arms, motioned from the
de facto nursery on the left side of the tower entry area.
аа He turned and crossed the stones of the entry hall.
аа Her face was slightly flushed, as though she had been outside in the
cold. Weryl's face was also red.
аа "You were outside?" Nylan asked.
аа "We walked up to the stables with Siret and Kyalynn. Ydrall went with
us, but she was cold the whole way. Kyalynn and Weryl just babbled the
whole time." Istril grinned down at her son. "The cold like this doesn't
bother him at all."
аа "With what you wrapped him in, I imagine not."
аа "I am glad you got another snow cat. Once I have it tanned, it will
make a good parka."
аа "For a year or two." Nylan laughed.
аа "Da!" offered Weryl, thrusting a chubby hand toward his father.
аа "Da to you, too," returned Nylan, taking his son, and still half
wondering at the circumstances that had resulted in three of the four
infants in Westwind being his-when he'd only slept with Ryba at that time.
аа "We'll have five more lambs," the silver-haired Istril announced
quietly.
аа "Practicing your healing, again?"
аа Weryl tugged at Nylan's index finger, his grip firm. Nylan smiled at
his son.
аа "The more healers the better. You and Ayrlyn can't do it all, and what
happens if you're hurt, like in the big battle with the Lornians and the
Gallosians?" asked Istril.
аа "I was glad you'd practiced."
аа "So was the Marshal. Her arm was a mess."
аа "You wouldn't know it now."
аа "She used to get tired faster when she practiced blades, but she's
almost over that now," noted Istril.
аа "Slow, she's faster than anyone else."
аа "Except you and Saryn. You're as fast as she is, but you don't like to
go for the kill. Saryn's even more of a killer than the Marshal." Istril
held out her arms for Weryl. "You need to eat. He's eaten."