"Elizabeth Moon - Paksenarrion 1 - The Sheepfarmer's Daughter" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moon Elizabeth)

Chapter Two

"All your personal belongings you turn in to the
quartermaster; he'll put 'em in a bag with your name on it
and store them in the treasury. We'll issue your training
uniforms today, and if you want to keep your old clothes,
they'll be stored too." Stammel turned to greet a gnarled
older man whose arms were full of burlap sacks. "Ah,
Quartermaster ... good to see you."
The man glared at the recruits. "Hmmph. Another bunch
of beginners. And how much sentimental trash have they
brought to take up space in storage?"
"Not so much; we've been on the road eight days since
the last pickup."
"Good. I'll need a clerk."
"Bosk'll do it." Stammel gestured to Bosk, who came
forward and took a handful of tags from the
quartermaster. "File one, step up one at a time, give your
name, and hand over your gear."
file:///F|/rah/Elizabeth%20Moon/Moon,%20Elizab...arrion%2001%20-%20Sheepfarmer's%20Daughter.htm (21 of 653) [5/20/03 11:22:30 PM]
Elizabeth Moon - The Deed of Paksenarrion [vol 1] Sheepfarmer's Daughter


Paksenarrion stepped forward, unbuckling the belt on
which her sheathed dagger hung. Bosk had already
written out her tag, and handed it to the quartermaster,
who fastened it to a sack and waited for her contribution.
She held out belt, dagger, and the kerchief with her
savings тАФ eighteen coppers тАФ in it.
"Are you going to keep those clothes?" he asked, eyeing
her brother's trousers, which had slipped down her hips
without the belt.
"Y-yes, sir."
"Amazing. Well, go get your uniform, and bring your
clothes back here. Quickly, now."
Paksenarrion looked around to see where she should go;
Stammel waved her toward a doorway on the left. There a
man and woman presided behind tables heaped with
brown clothing. Paks strode quickly across the courtyard,
hoping her trousers would stay up. Behind her she heard
Korryn's nasty chuckle and whispered comment.
When she reached the tables, she saw stacks of plain
brown tunics, socks, and low boots. The woman
beckoned her, and grinned. "You're a tall one, right
enough. Let's see тАФ " and she began measuring Paks with
a length of knotted string: neck to waist, waist to knee,
shoulder to elbow to wrist. "Here тАФ " she held out a