"Janny Wurts - The Master of Whitestorm" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wurts Janny)

Attempts earned agonizing punishment, and since by cus-tom the fate of the offender would be shared
by the slaves surrounding him, a man dared not trust his fellows. Through three centuries of marauding,
the Mhurgai held no record of slave mutiny; Nallga made an unlikely choice for exception. Caught by an
involuntary shudder, Haldeth shook his head. "Be still!"

Darjir moved his ankle. A dissonant rattle of chain destroyed the night silence. "I've had enough."

"Ouiet, fool!" Haldeth felt fear, cold as the touch of bare steel against his neck. "The forward oarsman
will kick in your ribs if he wakes and hears you."

"l was named Korendir. And I'm getting off." The words left no chink for argument.

Haldeth abandoned the attempt. Nervously, he surveyed the forms of the surrounding slaves for any
trace of movement. But the lower deck remained peacefully undisturbed, quiet but for the lap of water
against the hull. Prompted by reckless impulse, Haldeth met Koren-dir's gaze.

"I'm with you." The steadiness of his voice amazed him. "I'd prefer the knife found me guilty."

Korendir's bearded features split into a slow, ill-practiced smile which left the flint in his eyes unsoftened.
"I thought you might."

Haldeth bent once more over his oar, but sleep would not come. Years of suffering had inured him to his
fate;

he knew in his heart that Korendir's proposition was nothing but desperate folly. Sweat sprang along his
naked back. No mercy would be shown should their plot be discovered; and even if they managed to
escape their chains, the Mhurgai collared their slaves with iron. The sea made an infallible warden.
Reminded by the cease-less slap of waves against the hull, Haldeth hoped the water would claim his life.
The knives of a Mhurga sea-man never killed. They crippled.

"Bhaka.t Bhaka.t" Nallga's mate shouted the call to rise from the companionway ladder.

Haldeth roused from an unpleasant dream and knuck-led gummed eyelids. Dawn purpled the calm of
the har-bor beyond the oarport; in the half-light of the lower deck, the unkempt complement of Nallga's
slaves stirred and stretched. The mate strode aft, thick hands striking the back of any man slow to lift his
head. Swarthy, round-shouldered, and short, the officer wore no shirt. Scarlet pantaloons were bound at
his waist with gemstud-ded, woven gold; a whip and a cutlass hung in shoulder scabbards from
crossbelts on his chest, companioned by a brace of throwing knives and a chased dagger.

Haldeth shifted uneasily. Mhurgai sported weapons like women wore jewelry, even to the four-inch
skewers which decorated their earlobes. Conscious of damp palms and a hollow stomach, the ex-smith
cursed his impetuous pact with Korendir the night before. Surely as steel would rust, the plan could only
lead to grief.

The mate strutted like a fighting cock down the gang-way and glowered over the double rows of
captives.. "Out oars!"

Haldeth moved at his order. one with a hundred men who unshipped fifty oars counterweighted with
lead and held them poised over the sea. A deep rumble sounded overhead, and shadow striped the