"Joel Rosenberg - Omnibus 03 - To Home and Ehvenor" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rosenberg Joel C)

Jason didn't suspect anything; he wasn't good enough an actor not to glance from face to face if he
knew. Janie didn't seem to pick up on it, either, which meant nothing.

I smiled back at Aeia in a sort of avuncular way, I hoped. We needed a long talk, her and me, and that
would have to be orchestrated just right.

Forget the orchestra, thoughтАФwhat tune did I want to play?

A friend of mine who was an acting major used to say there was an old saying in the theatre: "Drunk and
on the road don't count." We hadn't been drunk, but we had been on the road. And, if the truth be
known, it had been awfully good, for both of us.

Compare that to a woman who didn't let me touch her anymore, who claimed that she loved me but
never laughed or smiled in my presence, whose shoulders shook in the night with silent weeping. You tell
me how you'd rather sleep next tothat than to one who sleeps in your arms, her breath warm on your
neck, her legs intertwined with yours, matching you heartbeat for heartbeat.

But you don't leave your wife of almost two decades because she's an emotional cripple, and you don't
dump her for a younger woman just because when you touch her, it makes you feel twice as alive.

All that seems reasonable. I don't know what you actuallydo , though. That makes me feel awfully old.

When I was younger, I always knew what to do.

I pushed back from the table; that seemed right for the moment. The ground didn't open up and swallow
me. Always a good sign.

"Jason, Tennetty, and I are going hunting," I said to Aeia.
 She either didn't take the hint, or dismissed the idea. "Have fun." She made a moue as she reached for a
sweetroll. "Bren up yet?"

I shook my head. "Haven't seen him."

I wondered for a moment if that was a red herring for my benefit, if she was sneaking off to sleep with
Bren the way that Janie was to be with Jason, then decided that I wasn't going to get anywhere guessing.
I don't care who plays musical beds, as long as I don't have to sleep alone. Which had been the trouble,
of late. One of them.

Besides, there's Slovotsky's Law something-or-other: Don't accuse your mistress of cheating on you
with her future fianc├й.

To hell with it. I was spending too much time musing about musical beds. I stood up. "I'm out of here,
folks."

Tennetty hacked off a fist-sized hunk of bread, dipped it in honey, and stood. "Let's go kill something."
***

The castle was quiet in the golden morning light, probably a holdover on the part of Karl's staff. He used
to insist onтАФwell, try to insist onтАФsleeping late, and U'len was probably keeping things quiet in his