"Jody Lynn Nye - Defender of the Small" - читать интересную книгу автора (Nye Jody Lynn)

the cat understood what she had commissioned. Dawna, grinning, began to rise from her seat under the
tree. The boy's face paled in fear, and he fled into an alleyway, his loose shoes pattering on the
cobblestones. Dawna settled back again. She doubted he'd ever try again.
As long as she was there, that was. Dawna could not stay in Cabbage Town for long. By her reckoning
she had perhaps a day, maybe two, before the townsfolk decided they were tired of the looming presence
of an armed mercenary, one they thought was at least a little mad because she considered herself
employed by a cat!
Shouting voices drew her attention to the river path. She saw nothing at first, but a small black-and-
white cat came tearing up the hill, running full out. Its eyes were round with terror. It spotted Dawna and
made directly for her. As it neared, Dawna saw blood, bright red on its fur. A cluster of children pelted
up the hill ten steps behind it, throwing stones and clods of earth. By the time they reached the green, the
black-and-white was crouched underneath Dawna's shield, trembling. Its eyes lifted to hers, beseeching.
The blood dripped from a cut in its side.
"I won't give you away, little one," she said, laying a gentle hand on its neck.
The children cast about, looking for their prey. "It got away!" one of them shouted. "Let's go find
another!"
They shot Dawna defiant glances. So that was the way of it, she thought. As long as the orange cat was
off limits, they were going to have their fun with other animals. She loathed this town and everyone in it.
She opened her pack. "Stay there, little one," she said, as the black-and-white began to edge away from
the strange sounds. "I've got salve that will ease the pain and stop the bleeding." The little cat held still
for its physicking, then lay purring weakly as Dawna tied a makeshift bandage around its middle. When
the orange cat returned she touched noses with the newcomer, then gave it a good washing before lying
down to feed her kits. Dawna had a new client.
***
"Nay, I'll not sell you red cloth, nor anything else," the weaver said severely, spreading his hands
protectively over the stock on his counter. "I'd suggest you go visit the priests and see if they'll pray for
your sanity. Now, leave."
Dawna gave up the argument and departed from the white-painted shop. She had not gone five paces out
of the door when something bumped her leg. She looked down to see the gray cat, a long, red ribbon
trailing from its mouth. It draped the end over her boot and blinked moonlike eyes at her. She groaned.
"Not you, too! Does no one treat their beasts with respect in this town?" Dawna glanced about to see if
anyone was watching her. She took a small coin and wrapped it in a scrap of cloth. "Give this to your
master for pay," she said. "I won't have either of us in trouble for theft. I accept your commission."
The gray cat dipped his head as if nodding, and trotted back into the store with the little bundle in its

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 - Chapter 22

mouth. Dawna strode hastily up the hill, not wanting the weaver to come bursting out and accuse her
publicly of sorcery.
Word had spread among the four-legged denizens of Cabbage Town, too. When she returned, her small
camp was occupied by a dozen cats. Some of them bore the marks of recent ill-treatment; still others had
old scars and limbs misshapen from being broken and left untreated. None of them had come empty-
handed, or, rather, empty-mouthed. A little pile of offerings guarded by the orange-striped mother cat
included sausage links, a raw chicken leg, a silk handkerchief, a child's purse containing one copper coin
and a thumbprint-sized religious medallion depicting the Forest God. The length of red ribbon from the
weaver's was barely long enough to make collars for all the worried-looking felines huddled near her.
More clients. That night, they once again provided her with warmth, fresh fish, and not a few fleas. If
she was going to be the protector of the local cats, she was going to have to pick them some fleabane.
***