"Saga of Recluce 02 - Towers of the Shield" - читать интересную книгу автора (Modesitt L E)chimneys, holds all warm against the winter and worse. Outside the walls
of Westwind and beyond the walled road that leads to the trade routes, near-unbroken whiteness sweeps from below the south tower and up toward the still-shimmering needle of Freyja. аа "Freyja" Creslin explains more conversationally, "is the sole peak to catch the light of the sun at dawn and at dusk. аа "Beyond the Roof of the World are the depths, the cliffs that drop more than a thousand cubits into ice and rock. Beyond and below them lies the darkness of the high forest-massive spruces and firs that march both north and south toward the barrier peaks of the Westhorns." Creslin stops and smiles, then shrugs. "You see, I can offer you only images." аа "You offer them well," responds Frewya. аа The red-haired girl, or woman-for Creslin has perceived that she is somewhat older than he is-nods. аа In the interim, his plate has been removed and replaced with a second and larger one, also of yellow porcelain, on which rests a slice of browned meat covered with a white sauce. To the side are cooked green leaves. аа Creslin slices a presentably small section of meat. He ignores the spicy and bitter taste, although he calls the slightest of breezes to carry away the perspiration that threatens to bead on his forehead. аа "How do you like the burkha?" The question comes from the redhead. аа "It's a bit spicier than what is served at Westwind," he admits. аа The woman laughs. "You're the first outsider I've seen who didn't totally burst into sweat with the first bite." complimented. "I take it that's a compliment." аа " Yes." But before she can say more, she turns to the man on her left in response to a question from him. аа Creslin realizes that she wears a second bracelet upon her left arm. Both bracelets are concealed by the flowing blue silksheen of her gown, except when she raises a hand to pick up a goblet or to gesture. The man on her left, who wears a laced and frilled shirt open nearly to his waist, displays a broad and tanned chest, although one which seems soft to Creslin. Still, the man is taller than Creslin, as are most of the Sarronnese men, and his laugh is easy and practiced. The tone grates on Creslin's ears, as do all falsehoods-his own and others'. аа "What do you think of the progress of the negotiations?" asks Frewya. аа Creslin finishes another bite of the burkha. "I trust that they are going as planned, but since the higher matters of statecraft are best practiced by those with their responsibility, I can but hope." He takes another bite, this time of the mint leaves that help to cool the fire of the hot brown sauce. аа "Are the guards of Westwind as fearsome as they are reputed to be?" pursues his tablemate, sending another gust of highly charged breath into his face. аа "Fearsome? Certainly they are called fearsome. Their training is rigorous . . . that I have seen. But since I have not seen them in battle, only in practice, I might not be the best one to answer that question." He cuts another slice of the highly spiced meat. |
|
|