"Dave Duncan - A Handfull of Men 4 - The Living God" - читать интересную книгу автора (Duncan Dave)

Ylo flashed her a smile. They stopped her heart, those smiles of his, those bright dark eyes, those long lashes. He could say more with a smile than
all the poems of all the poets of the Impire. "I said you had never seen anything like the view up here. Well, you still haven't, have you?"


"True!" She laughed.


"And admit it, you are floating in clouds, yes?"


"Yes!" she said. "Very true."


"Well, then!"


"Faster!" Maya demanded.


"Poor old horse!" Ylo said sternly. "He's having to pull all of us up this great, long hill. He's working very hard. He's an old, old horse, that's why
his hair's turned all white. You ought to get out and walk, so he doesn't have to work so hard, you great heavy lump!"


That was a mistake. Maya decided she did want to get out and walk, and argued when he would not let her. She was very good at arguing. At times


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 The Living God

she behaved as if she was the rightful-born impress of Pandemia-which she was, even if Pandemia was no more aware of that than the child herself.
How about a birthday party, Ylo suggested, and a cake with two and a half candles ...


They had seen very little traffic all morning, but now hooves clanked on the stones behind, coming fast. Eshiala turned and peered back through the
little window. In a moment a ghostly rider materialized out of the mist, gray on gray, solidifying into color as he approached, scarlet cloak and gold-
plumed hat. He swung out to pass the phaeton without slowing down, cantering on ahead, fading as swiftly as he had come, the cloud soon muffling
the sound. He had been an Imperial courier, and the fact that he had been only cantering, not galloping, showed how hard the hill was on horses.


She stole a glance at Ylo and thought she detected a hint of a frown. A hint of danger? She said nothing. Something had worried him back at the inn
that morning, although he had denied it. She thought he had recognized someone. She would not pry. She would let nothing ruffle her happiness.


It would end soon enough. In a day or two they would be in Gaaze, and what happened then she dared not think.


She was in love, hopelessly in love. Twenty years old, a widow with a child, and she was as heartsick as an adolescent.