"03 - Legacy of the Sword" - читать интересную книгу автора (Roberson Jennifer)

"By the gods, the world has gone mad!" Donal stared
after the woman as she faded into the crowded square. "Do
they think I am IhliniT'

No, Taj said. They know you are Cheysuli.

Let us get out of this place at once. But even as Donal said
it, he felt and heard the smack of some substance against one
shoulder.

And smelled its odor, also.

He turned in the saddle at once, shocked by the blatant
attack. But he saw no single specific culprit, only a square
choked with people. Some watched him. Others did not.

Donal reached back and jerked his cloak over one shoulder
to see what had struck his back, though he thought he knew.
He grimaced when he saw the residue of fresh horse drop-
pings. In disgust he shook the cloak free of manure, then let
the folds fall back.

We are leaving this square, he told his lir. Though I would
prefer to leave this city entirely.

Donal turned his horse into die first street he saw and
followed its winding course. It narrowed considerably, twist-
ing down toward the sea among whitewashed buildings topped
with thatched gray roofs. He smelled salt and fish and oil,
and the tang of the sea beyond. Gulls cried raucously, white
against the slate-gray sky, singing their lonely song. The clop
of his horse's hooves echoed in the narrow canyon of the
road.

Do you mean to stop? Taj inquired.

When I find an innЧah, there is one ahead. See the sign?
The Red Horse Inn.

It was a small place, whitewashed like the others, its
thatched roof worn in spots. The wooden sign, in the form of
a crimson horse, faded, dangled from its bracket on a single
strip of leather.

Here? Lom asked dubiously.

It will do as well as another, provided I may enter. Donal
felt the anger and sickness rise again, frustrated that even

18 Jennifer Roberson