"Mel Odom - Forgotten Realms - Threat from the Sea Trilogy 03 - The Sea Devils" - читать интересную книгу автора (Odom Mel)

Slowly, the woman sank more deeply into the bedding. She shook her head in a small motion that
stirred her dark curls and said, "No, sir. No, I won't try to leave."
The term of respect, applied in such a situation, stung Jherek. He dropped his eyes from the
woman's in shame. To have come so far pursuing what he hoped would have been a clue to his destiny,
only to end up like this, making prisoners of frightened women, it was almost too much. If it were up to
him, he would have left then, but the pearl disk Vurgrom took was not Jherek's to leave.
Talif ransacked the room with quick, knowing movements. Small drawers came out of the chest at
the foot of the bed. Each was checked, inside and under, before being discarded. The thief even went on
to disassemble some of the bigger pieces, checking for hiding places within them.
Frennick remained dazed, sick drool oozing occasionally from the corner of his mouth.
Jherek bound the man's hand behind his back with strips torn from the stained and faded sheets. He
yanked the man to his feet. Frennick swayed drunkenly, like a storm-tossed cog riding out a stiff
crosswind.
"Lady," the young sailor said, "I have one more task to ask of you."
"Yes, sir." She looked at him in bright fear.
"Could you dress him, please?"
Talif's derisive snort filled the room.
Cautiously, the woman climbed from the bed. She left the bedding behind and stood naked,
embarrassing Jherek further. She took the pirate's clothing from a pile beside the bed, choosing the
breeches first.
"At least have the common sense to go through his clothing first," Talif called out as he helped
himself to the coins inside Frennick's duffel.
"Search his clothing then," Jherek told the woman. "Leave his personal effects. I'm looking for a gold
disk that looks very old. At its center is a pearl with a carved trident overlying a conch shell."
The woman knelt and began searching the pirate's clothing with experienced fingers, easily finding
hidden pockets sewn into the material. Coins and small gems scattered on the floor before her, barely
catching the dim light. Two small, very sharp blades that couldn't be properly called knives slid across the
floor as well.
Frennick stood straighter, growling under his breath. "You've signed your own death warrant, boy.
You do know that?"
"My death," Jherek told the pirate, looking him calmly in the eye, "was guaranteed the day of my
birth. The only thing that remains to be seen is the how of it."
"At the end of my sword," Frennick promised, "with your guts spilled before you."
The young sailor glanced down at the woman, who was busy making some of the coins and gems
disappear.
"No, lady," he said gently. "Don't rob him. You don't want him looking for you later."
The woman looked up and said, "He owes me a night's wages."
Embarrassed, knowing what the wages covered, Jherek gave her a tight nod. "As you will," he said.
The night's not over," Frennick grumbled. "She didn't earn all her wages."
"The night was over for you," the woman rasped. "Once you've gotten so deeply into your cups and
sated yourself like some rutting goat, you never wake again until well after morningfeast."
Frennick snuffled, drawing in phlegm and saliva, preparing to spit.
Jherek yanked the pirate's head back as he spat. Frennick succeeded only in spitting into his own
face.
"No," he told Frennick softly, hating that he was taking part in any of the night's events.
The pirate growled in rage.
"Take a fair price, lady," Jherek said. "No more, no less."
Jherek watched as the woman hesitated, then dropped most of the coins and gems back to the
floor.
"I can't find a disk like the one you described, sir," the woman said.