"K. D. Wentworth - Hallah Iron-Thighs and the Five Unseemly Sorrows" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wentworth K D)

"Whoa," I said. "We can't have that."



Gerta just snored.

***

After the princess left, I hauled Gerta outside to dunk her head in the horse tank. She rubbed her eyes
blearily, then stared at me, dripping scummy green water. "WhaтАФ?"



"Wake up," I said. "We're off to see the dragon."



"There are no dragons," she said. "My foremothersтАФ"



"Yeah, yeah," I said. "I know the litany. Mount up."



As dusk fell, we took the only road up into the south pass and found it curiously abandoned. This time of
year, there should have been trade caravans arriving one after the other, not to mention messengers,
perhaps even a young blade out to court a likely lady. A warning prickle ran up my spine.



Gerta rode with her head sunk on her chest. "I don't feel so good," she said thickly. "I think someone
punched a hole in my head, when I wasn't looking, and let all the thoughts out."
"I think maybe you're right," I said. "Stay away from rutabaga ale after this. It doesn't agree with you."



"Yeah." She thumped her heels against her gray gelding's ribs and rode on in silence.



An hour later, we were climbing one switchback after another and were about midway up the side of the
mountain when I glimpsed a bright gleam playing along the rocky peak. "What's that?"



Gerta shook her head, then groaned at the excessive movement.