"Patricia C. Wrede - Lyra 1 - Shadow Magic" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wrede Patricia C)

Shadow Magic
Lyra - 03
Patricia C. Wrede
 CHAPTER ONE
The caravan wound slowly through the woods along the riverbank and broke at last into the
fields surrounding the city. Except for a few wooden shelters near the gates, the city itself was
invisible behind massive walls. Not even the roof of a tower showed above the smooth grey stone.
Though they were now within sight of their goal, the dust-covered guards continued to ride
restlessly up and down the long chain of wagons, watching field and forest narrowly for any sign of
unusual activity. Travel here, at the western border of Alkyra, was relatively safe, but the Traders
generally preferred not to take chances.
When the last of the wagons had entered the city, the guards relaxed at last. Their far-flung
riding pattern contracted into small eddies of motion between the lumbering wagons. The
iron-rimmed wagon-wheels were noisy, and conversation was minimal. The horses seemed to find
the stone pavement, rough as it was, an improvement over the deeply rutted dirt road outside the
city, and it was not long before the caravan had reached the wide courtyard of the inn.
The hypnotic rumble of the wagons gave way to a cheerful bustle of securing goods and
stabling horses. Everyone took part, from the most exalted of the Master Traders to the lowliest
apprentices. As each finished his appointed task, he went in search of friends or pleasure, depending
on his inclination, and soon the courtyard began to empty.
Among those remaining was a tall, black-haired man in the utilitarian leather of a caravan guard,
his skin tanned by the sun and wind of the trails to a deep bronze under its coating of grime. The
uniform suited him well, and he carried himself with an easy confidence that proclaimed him a veteran
despite his relative youth. He was checking the ropes securing one of the wagons when another man
hailed him. тАЬMaurin!тАЭ
The dark-haired man at the wagon rope looked up. тАЬGreetings, Har. I thought you would be
away home by now.тАЭ
Har made a rude noise and looked at his friend with disfavor. The two were of a height, but
HarтАЩs slight build, accentuated by the leather uniform, made him appear smaller and younger than he
was. An unruly shock of sandy brown hair added to the effect, and made the straight black brows
and slightly tilted grey-green eyes more startling.
тАЬIтАЩve been hunting all over for you,тАЭ Har said when Maurin made no response. тАЬI invited you to
visit when we got to Brenn; did you think I would forget? HavenтАЩt you finished with that yet?тАЭ
тАЬIтАЩm just checking the knots,тАЭ Maurin replied. тАЬLast stop we nearly lost three white fox pelts
when the wind blew the canvas off, remember?тАЭ
Har grinned unrepentantly. тАЬThis is Brenn, remember?тАЭ he mimicked. тАЬThat canтАЩt happen in
town, and anyway the light stuff has all been unpacked. So wonтАЩt you come on?тАЭ
тАЬA journeyman canтАЩt leave the caravan without the permission of one of the Master Traders.
You know that,тАЭ Maurin answered.
тАЬSo letтАЩs get it! They wonтАЩt deny it; thereтАЩs nothing more to do here.тАЭ As Maurin still hesitated,
Har frowned. тАЬIтАЩm beginning to think you donтАЩt want to come. I tell you, Maurin, you work too hard.
Take the whole week and stay with us and relax for a change. Or isnтАЩt the Noble House of Brenn up
to your standards?тАЭ
тАЬI donтАЩt want Master Goldar to think IтАЩm trying to curry favor,тАЭ Maurin admitted. тАЬAnd what
will your family think? ItтАЩs all right for nobles and journeymen to brush cloaks on a caravan trip, but
even the Master Traders donтАЩt visit lords in town unless theyтАЩre invited.тАЭ
тАЬWell, I invited you, didnтАЩt I?тАЭ Har said. тАЬYou donтАЩt have to worry about my family; Mother
wonтАЩt mind, and if she doesnтАЩt, no one else will, either.тАЭ
 тАЬThereтАЩs still Master Goldar.тАЭ
тАЬFear not, my friend,тАЭ Har said, striking a theatrical pose. тАЬWe shall yet win for you the