"Lawrence Watt-Evans - Ethshar 1 - The Misenchanted Sword" - читать интересную книгу автора (Watt-Evans Lawrence)

waited, he remembered the three northerners somewhere behind him and
suppressed an urge to tell the old man to hurry up; there was no need to
frighten him yet.
"Ethsharitic, hah?" the old man said at last.
"Yes. Scout First Class, with the Western Command under General Gor."
"What are you doing out here, then? Nothing to scout around here." Before
Valder could reply, he added with sudden harshness, "Isn't any fighting around
here, is there?"
"I got cut off from my unit, far south of here, and got chased north. The
fighting is still a long way off. I thought maybe you could help me -- loan me
a boat or something."
"Maybe I can. No boat, but come in and tell me about it and we'll see."
He gestured and led the way into the hut.
Valder smiled. The old man's face was as easy to read as a baby's. He had
obviously forgotten how to control or conceal his emotions after being alone
for so long; Valder had plainly seen his initial surprise and confusion turn
first to annoyance at this unexpected disruption of his routine and then to
eager curiosity. Valder could not be sure, but he guessed the old man was also
eager for a little human companionship. Even a hermit might get lonely
eventually.
He followed the old man into the hut, ducking his head to clear the low
doorframe.


CHAPTER 2

As they stepped inside, the old man asked, "You want something to eat?"
"No," Valder answered tersely.
The hermit paused and turned to look at him. "The old bloodstone charm?
Spell of Sustenance, that one?"
Reluctantly, Valder nodded. He hadn't expected the old man to guess the
reason for his abstinence so readily. If any food or drink were to pass his
lips, or even if he salivated too much, the spell would be broken and he would
need to forage or carry supplies like any ordinary wanderer; accepting
anything from the hermit was therefore out of the question. Unfortunately, the
old man now knew that Valder carried a bloodstone, which, although not exactly
a fortune in gems, was a fairly rare and precious item, particularly in this
northern wilderness so far from the mines of Akalla.
The old man obviously had some acquaintance with magic, as Valder had
suspected, to realize so quickly why a weary traveler might refuse an offer of
food.
Then the hermit stepped aside and opened the shutters, allowing his guest
a good look at the hut's interior, and Valder knew that his host had far more
than a passing acquaintance with magic.
The basic furnishings were simple and practical. A bed consisting of a
mattress, pillow, and furs lay against the base of one wall; a table against
another wall held a basin, pitcher, and assorted pots, pans, and kitchen
implements. A cozy wicker armchair stood beside the table and a large wooden
chest that could serve as either another chair or a low table was nearby.
Those were the only ordinary furniture, but the remaining space was by no