"Mel Odom - Forgotten Realms - Lost Empires 01 - The Lost Library of Cormanthyr" - читать интересную книгу автора (Odom Mel)

"I was told you were a brave man, Captain Rinnan," she said in acidic accusation. The tips of her
pointed ears and parts of her face had gone numb from the cold that had descended with the storm over
Chalice of the Crowns. Yet, still her anger burned hot within her.
Men scattered in all directions around them. The ship's crew tried to handle the lines of rigging. The sails
had been dropped when the worst of the storm swept over them, but so many of the booms had broken
loose the ship itself had become a danger.
The warriors that she'd led sought to maintain their positions along the railing, staying ready for the battle
that she expected might yet come. Before the storm had arrived so quickly in all its gale and fury, one of
the trio of pirate ships that had pursued them from the Sword Coast for the last few days had been closing
in rapidly, finally cutting down on their lead.
"I am a brave man," Rinnah yelled. "But I have to admit, I am far, far too greedy. I should never have
taken on this fool's quest no matter how much gold was involved. If we had jettisoned the cargo as I
suggestedтАФ"
"That would never have been allowed," Skyreach promised.
The captain took advantage of a roll of the waves, managing a couple steps down the deck toward her.
"You purchase my ser-vices, woman, you don't own me," he said.
Skyreach lifted her long sword in an eye blink, her arm bringing the weapon into line as natural as
breathing. Her great-grandfather had seen to her tutelage himself, graced her with his motivations, and
turned her relentless in the pursuit of his goal. She knew she'd kill the captain for his impudence alone, not
even allowing the man the offense of laying his hands on her. But, perhaps, she still had need of his skill.
That was the only thing that stayed her hand.
The long sword's point stopped bare inches from the man's face. She froze the ship's captain into place
with the steel of her blade and the iron in her gaze. "Another step, Captain, and we'll both get a look at
whatever guts you profess to have."
Rinnah started to say something, but he was interrupted by a squall from one of his mates.
"Caaaaptaaain!"
Skyreach kept her weapon ready.
Rinnah swiveled his head around. Big and burly, his hair a twist of wet knots and his finery all undone by
hours spent in the inclement weather trying to find safe passage through the storm, he looked to be a
ferocious opponent. A brace of throwing knives went around his waist on a weathered belt made of lizard
skin. The scarred and worn handles of the knives showed much use and a certain... familiarity. He stared
up at the crow's nest.
Skyreach looked as well, her arm aching with the strain of hang-ing on to the rigging. She peered
through the sheets of needle-sharp rain whipped by the frenzy of the storm. She barely made out the
crewman's pointing arm.
Aft of Chalice of the Crowns, a ship with full sails burst through the storm's darkness and gained
rapidly. Its spinnaker was out before it, dancing wildly in the ripping winds. A trident of living lightning
seared across the bruised sky, running almost horizon-tally at what seemed only a hand's span above the
writhing black water. In the afterglow of the lightning, Skyreach spotted the flag snapping out from the main
mast. The skull and crossbones looked stark, white on a field of black.
"Pirates!" someone screamed.
The cry echoed along the deck of Chalice of the Crowns, picked up by sailors and the men Skyreach
led. She eyed her enemy grimly. She didn't know who had pursued them with such tenac-ity. The horde of
darkness that had gathered to tear Cormanthyr down had drawn forces from everywhere. She did not
know if the City of Songs still stood, and that uncertainty had weighed so heavily in her heart these days
that she had been gone from it.
Skyreach lifted her voice, bellowing above the swell of the waves and the thunder to the knot of men
along the rail. "Scaif!"
A tall elven warrior turned to face her. He wore simple leather, but Scaif had been one of the most
trusted men in her great-grand-father's courts. "Aye, milady."