"Dave Duncan - The Seventh Sword - 2 - The Coming Of Wisdom" - читать интересную книгу автора (Duncan Dave)Goddess."
Quili turned away to hide the horrible suspicion that flared up in her, which must not show in her face. These men had come from Harm, from the mother of all temples. They had fought a battle. Had someone tried to prevent their leaving— the temple guard that Nnanji had formerly belonged to? Was that sword the reason? Had this Shonsu stolen that royal sword from the treasury of the Goddess' temple? But if he had, then why had She let the boat leave the dock when he boarded? And why had She moved it here, where there were sorcerers? Swordsmen of the Seventh were very rare and very terrible. Nnanji had said that Shonsu had killed six men in the fight—perhaps the Goddess had few swordsmen capable of bringing such a colossus to justice. But sorcerers certainly could. Had they been brought here to die? She felt sick with indecision. Was she supposed to aid these men, or not? What of preventing bloodshed? Whose blood? A 18 THE COMING OF WISDOM mere apprentice should not be faced with such conundrums. "Apprentice Quili, this is Jja, my love." The woman smiled shyly, and Quili received another shock. Jja was a slave; her face bore a single stripe from hairline to upper Up, and she wore a slave's black. His love? The woman was tall and only that hateful badge of slavery and the close-cropped maltreatment of her dark hair stopped her from being spectacularly beautiful. No, she was beautiful in spite of those. Her figure was magnificently proportioned to her height, yet she moved with a sensual grace: strong and competent and serene. Even a Seventh could not change a slave's rank, but it seemed ironic for a man of such power to love a mere chattel. He was introducing her as if she were a said, "You are welcome, also, Jja." A faint blush spread over the high cheekbones, the dark eyes were lowered. "Thank you, apprentice." A good voice. Jja turned to take the baby, who was now sitting on Nnanji's shoulders, wedged hi place by his sword hilt. Little Vixini resisted, screaming angrily and clutching the swordsman's ponytail. Then Lord Shonsu's strong arm pulled another woman up from the boat.'This," he said, "is Cowie." There was an odd note in the way he spoke, as if he had said something funny. Cowie was another slave, and another sort of slave. If Lord Shonsu was the epitome of masculinity, then Cowie was the ultimate sex partner. Quili had never seen a figure so exaggeratedly female, and it was barely concealed at all by the flimsy wisp of garment. Her breasts strained against it, her arms and legs were soft and voluptuously rounded, her face was a lovely and sweet nothing. At the sound of her name, the provocative lips parted in an automatic smile, but her eyes continued to stare blankly at the shore. Quili remembered her misgivings about her own too-tight gown. In this company she was not going to be noticed. Nnanji had said something about buying a slave. She glanced at him, and he turned away. Then another black-clad figure was lifted up by hands below, accepted, and gently set down by Lord Shonsu. He was very tiny and very old, his head totally hairless, his neck a crumple of wrinkles. The gown he wore appeared to be both too large for |
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