"Jennifer Roberson - Sword Dancer 4 - Sword Breaker" - читать интересную книгу автора (Roberson Jennifer)

sword-dance.

Well, no, not really a sword-dance; more like a sword-fight, which is an entirely different thing
with entirely different rules; better yet, a sword-war. Del and I had won the battle, with a little
help from luck, friends, and magic--not to mention mass confusion--but hostilities were not
concluded.

I thought briefly about rising, then considered the state of head and belly and decided staying
close to the ground in an attitude of prayer, regardless of true intention, was a posture worth
practicing.

Squinting against my reasserted headache, I uncorked the bota, drank a little, discovered tipping
my head back did nothing at all to still the hammer and anvil. With great care I leveled my head
again and peered out at the pale morning, focusing fixedly on dimming stars to distract me from
the discomfort in offended skull and belly.

Realizing, as I did so, something besides my belly desired emptying.

Which meant I had to get up anyway, if only to find a bush.

Hoolies, life was much easier before I joined up with a woman.

"Tiger?"

I twitched, then wished I hadn't. Even blinking hurt my head. "What?"

"We can't stay here. We'll have to ride on."

I grunted, thinking instead of ways to rid myself of the headache. Drinking aqivi might help,
except we had none. "Eventually," I agreed. "First things first, bascha like finding out if I can
walk."

"You don't have to walk. You have to ride." She paused: elaborate, sarcastic solicitude. "Do you
think you can ride, Tiger?"

My back remained to her, so she didn't see the oath I mouthed against the dawn. "I'll manage."

She chose to ignore my irony. "You'll need to manage soon. They'll be coming after us."

Yes, so they would be. Every "they" they could muster. Tens and twenties of them; possibly even
hundreds.

The sun began to crawl above the swordblade of the horizon. I squinted against the light.
"Maybe I should pray," I muttered. "Aren't I the jhihadi? "

Del grunted skepticism. "You are no messiah, no matter what you say about Jamail pointing at
you."

Injured innocence: "But I swore by my sword."