"Katya Reimann - Tielmaran 2-A Tremor in the Bitter Earth" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reimann Katya)

more than death to LlaraтАЩs honor here. For those who can abide it.тАЭ
тАЬIтАЩm not sad for them,тАЭ Tullier said angrily.
тАЬThen why that clumsy second shot?тАЭ
Corbulo did wait for an answer. Moving on, he bent over the woman, turned back a fold of skirt,
and exposed her younger son. The childтАЩs eyes were clenched shut, his small body tightly curled. Without
a moment of hesitation, Corbulo raised his hand, sighted a dart from his wrist-launcher, and shot the child
in the base of his spine. The boy, instantly paralyzed, whimpered and lost his grip on his motherтАЩs hand.
тАЬBastard! Oh, GoddessтАФтАЭ The words were a strangled noise in the motherтАЩs throat, but something
in their tone caught TullierтАЩs attention. Anger was there, as well as fright. The boyтАЩs interest sharpened.
This was something unexpected. The womanтАЩs thin body had little extra flesh, and the paralysis poison
had strength enough to fell a well-grown man. She should not have had the breath to resist.
тАЬHelp me,тАЭ Corbulo said brusquely. He wrested the limp childтАЩs body free of her skirts.
Tullier, uncertain, reached for his knife.
тАЬNot that,тАЭ his master stopped him. тАЬWe must strip them.тАЭ
The boys were dressed in boiled wool jackets, embroidered tunics, and soft trousers: nothing that
would have marked them as gently born in Bissanty, where the nobles wore only silk and fine-stuff.
Tullier heaved the older boy up by his shoulders, avoiding eye contact. Remembering the boyтАЩs brief,
doomed stand, Tullier found himself comparing his body to the boyтАЩs as he worked. The novice was
short for his age, and lightly built, while the boy was sturdy and long-limbed. The jacket Tullier pulled off
the boyтАЩs back would almost have fit his own shoulders. He tossed it aside, something in him made
angry, and split the tunic with his knife, deliberately ruining it. When he was done, the boy lay facedown
on the fallen chestnut flowers, his smooth skin puckered with cold, a strand of silver links on his neck his
last adornment. That had to come off with the rest. Not sure what to do, Tullier dropped the silver into
the babeтАЩs cradle.
тАЬThe baby too?тАЭ he asked.
Corbulo, finishing with the younger boy, looked round, saw Tullier standing at the cradle, and made
an angry gesture. тАЬLlaraтАЩs eyes, stop hurrying,тАЭ he snapped. тАЬWhatтАЩs rushing you now?тАЭ
тАЬI wasnтАЩtтАФтАЭ Tullier protested.
тАЬYou want to argue?тАЭ The words rang with disbelief.
Tullier shook his head, recognizing the warning, however unjust. For a moment, he saw his master as
the woman or her sons would see him: the lean menace of his figure, the blood-colored robes, the
flapping braids, and, worst, the cruel set eyes, glittering in the deathтАЩs-head mask of black-and-white
paint. The paint-masked journey-master had every advantage over Tullier, with his youth and naked skin,
with nothing but his own will to conceal his expression. Staring into his masterтАЩs poison-rimmed eyes,
Tullier discovered he had already overstepped a boundary.
тАЬI want only to serve,тАЭ the young novice said, forcing himself to speak humbly. тАЬLlaraтАЩs light in
youтАФplease tell me what to do.тАЭ
тАЬYouтАЩre pestering me,тАЭ Corbulo said, again unfairly. тАЬJust keep out of the way and watch me. IтАЩll tell
you when I need you.тАЭ
The clearing settled around them. Tullier, pretending to look at everything that wasnтАЩt his masterтАЩs
face, watched the older man covertly, struggling to read his mood. The unfairness wasnтАЩt like Corbulo,
and that was dangerous. The ambush had been a success. TullierтАЩs mistake with the groom had not
jeopardized that success. Why then was his master so angry, so full of nerves?
Corbulo, no longer paying attention to his novice, stood over the older boyтАЩs body and pulled a box
from a pocket deep in his robes: a wooden box, with stylized carvings of reeds around its sides.
Touching a hidden spring, he popped the compact case into separated halves.
The swiftness of the manтАЩs motions had the smoothness of practice. Yet something in CorbuloтАЩs
manner told Tullier he was not comfortable with the box or its contents. He was too delicate, too careful
in his movements. Inside the cased halves were two coiled straps, supple red-tanned leather with black
edges. Uncoiling these straps with elaborate care, Corbulo used the first to bind the younger boyтАЩs