"Justin Stanchfield - Sisterhood of the Stone" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stanchfield Justin)

"I speak Standard," the girl replied.
"Thank you," Kells said, grateful he didn't have to use the local
dialect. "What was that thing?"
"Brush dog. They are bold around camps, but seldom dangerous. They
prefer our garbage to ourselves." Her voice was soft and lilting, and her
accent accentuated her fragile beauty. "You are an off-worlder, aren't you."
"Yes. I'm a merchant. A trader."
She nodded. "My father, I am told, was a trader from Kavas. He left
Alkas before I was born."
"I'm sorry," Kells said, unsure what to say. The girl shrugged.
"It is the way among our order. No men may join our ranks."
"Oh." Kells stepped away from the tangled bushes, still wary of the
brush dog. A trace of wood smoke drifted on the breeze, cook fires burning now
that the storm had passed. The scent of peppered bacon mingled with the smoke.
Emboldened by her straightforward manner, he edged closer and bowed, hand
against his chest, trying to imitate the local custom. "Would you share
breakfast with me? It seems the least I can do for saving me from marauding
scavengers."
"Shhh!" She pressed her index finger against her lips for silence, but
her deep brown eyes sparkled mischievously. "If anyone heard you say that you
would no doubt be stoned to death. Cloud walkers are not permitted to eat the
week before Festival."
"You haven't eaten in nine days?" Kellsrecalled the weeks on Alkas
lasted twelve days from start to finish. "Aren't you starved?"
"I will have all the time in the world to get old and fat after my
walk."
He glanced across the clearing at the rest of the dancers as they
stirred around their neat tents. Not a single one of them approached what he
considered to be average weight, let alone corpulence. "In that case, my lady,
I promise to tempt you no more." He bowed with a flourish and grinned. "But I
thank you none the less."
"You are welcome, Sean Kells."
Startled, he straightened, certain he hadn't given her his name.
Puzzled, he tipped his head to the side. "Do you also have a name, my lady?"
"None that I dare give you, ser' Kells." She bowed gracefully then
turned away. Her tiny feet scarcely left a mark in the soft mud.
****
The day passed uneventfully. The people scattered around the clearing dozed or
gambled, tossing handfuls of polished sticks across blankets and betting on
the outcome. Kells tried to sleep, but the heat and the constant commotion was
distracting. Rotor-flies buzzed around the cook fires while the tethered
slippers farted and munched bundles of sweet vines. By dusk he was anxious to
move out, glad even for the hard perch on the slipper hen's back as long as it
carried him away from the day's boredom.
Bone-white _Nas_ was already overhead as they entered the forest, the
crescent moon lighting the path nearly as bright as day. Not far ahead the
rocky trail converged with another. More travelers joined the loose caravan.
The trail steepened as it wound between enormous boulders, their faces worn
smooth by eons of rain and wind. The vegetation thinned as they climbed into
the true mountains. Kells watched the stars, glad for open skies, the