"Steven Piziks - Patterns in the Chain" - читать интересную книгу автора (Piziks Steven)

Nassirskaegi bleated once.



"Sunrise, I expect," Berchte answered.
 ***

Something clinked and clanked at the mouth of the cave. Jeweline entered, sword at her side, battered
mail revealing more than it probably should. She was covered with cuts, scratches, and bruises, and her
movements were stiff. Behind her, the sun was chasing the last of the stars away from the pale blue sky.



"Didn't work, did it?" Mother Berchte said mildly. Knit one, purl two. Knit one, purl two.



"You tricked me," Jeweline cried. "This shirt is worthless! If Father Fluss hadn't given me flashflowers to
blind the bastards, I would have been killed."



"I told you not to take it, girl," Mother Berchte growled. Jeweline opened her mouth to protest, but
Berchte cut her off. "Let me guess. You thought that the best shirt in the bunch would be disguised as a
rusty piece of junk. You thought this was some stupid fairy tale to put the kiddies to sleep."



Jeweline snapped her mouth shut and set her jaw. "I just want to get my sisters away from those . . .
men."



"Then do something sensible," Mother Berchte scoffed. "The first lesson you have to learn is never settle
for less than the best."



Jeweline squared her shoulders. "All right." She shrugged out of the rusty mail shirt, marched over to the
wall of mail, and chose another, one tightly knitted from the stoutest steel, yet light enough to wear easily.
A two-headed eagle glowered defiantly in the design, and the shirt gleamed softly in the firelight as
Jeweline pulled it on. Mother Berchte watched with interest.



Knit one, purl two. Knit one, purl two.