"Linnea Sinclair - Gambit" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sinclair Linnea)

few remaining inches to the wall. His arms flanked her like barricades, trapping her.
She refused to flinch. Refused to do what she suspected a hundred other captains
and crew had done before when faced with the Jhen-Aris.
She raised her chin a little higher. "This is T'Sri space, not Jhen. You can't tell me
where I can or cannot go."
She waited for an explosion, but saw only an illogical shift in his attitude, almost a
softening. And then an unlikely hint of a smile.
"Perhaps not. Yet, if the Abaris hadn't come along, you might've been picked up by
the T'Sri. I take it that wasn't what you were after." His voice was patient, but no less
commanding. Even with that disarming smile.
Part of her regretted he was Jhen-Aris. In other circumstances, she would have
found him attractive, in spite of the premature silvering of his hair. She'd heard there
was a story behind that; one of the many circulated about the Jhen. They were rebels
of long-standing; smugglers, pirates.
But the T'Sri were worse. They were slavers, assassins. Cold-blooded murderers.
"No one in their right mind wants to be picked up by the T'Sri." In a quick
movement, she ducked under his arm and regained her original position on the
bench.
A low chuckle of laughter followed her. "So, what brings the Dreamweaver's lovely
captain to this unfriendly location?"
Flattery's not your style, she wanted to say, but bit back the retort. She knew what
was. "What brings the Abaris here? Run out of tri-haulers to hijack?"
Jhen-Aris's smile faded as quickly as it had appeared. "No. But I'm running out of
patience."
She hesitated, listening to the muted sounds of the ship. A distant ping signaled the
opening of the lift doors. She heard footsteps and a greeting called out to the guard
who had accompanied Jhen-Aris to her cell.
The slight trembling under her feet that told her the huge interstellar drives were
operating at sub-light; hyperspace would be smoother.
She could protest all she wanted, but the fact was, she was in a cell on the Jhen's
premier huntership. And she was the captain's prize. For now.
Perhaps it was time for certain things to be said. She drew a deep breath. "The T'Sri
attacked a Lifarian freighter off Devor. Killed everyone on board."
He shrugged in apparent indifference. "The T'Sri have been killing Lifarian witches
for centuries."
The Jhen were none too fond of them either, Ty knew. But they had been content to
leave the Lifari alone.
Not so with the T'Sri, who easily added the role of witch-hunter to their growing list
of attributes. Now there were perhaps three thousand pure-blood Lifari left on
freighters and generations ships. One hundred fourteen fewer after the attack on the
Rachella.
"So that justifies the deaths of innocent people? Because of the T'Sri's inability to
handle their superstitions?"
"The T'Sri aren't my concern at the moment. You are. What are you doing in T'Sri
space?"
"My job. I guess you could call me a mercenary with a conscience, Jhen-Aris." She
used his name deliberately, as if they were equals. But there was no reaction, and that
tinge of amusement she'd sensed before was gone.
"The Lifari will not kill. You know that. Their precepts prohibit it. And they can't
claim any protection under the laws of the Council. But nothing prevents them from