"P. N. Elrod - Adventures Of Myhr" - читать интересную книгу автора (Elrod P N)

situation went, Captain Picard would have been proud of us.

We had about two hours of walking ahead, but with a full stomach I was in the mood for a little light
exercise. Terrin wasn't pleased, but only because it was day. His pale skin was more suited for night
rambles.

"Too damn bitching bright," he complained. "I don't like this place."

"Better than others we've been to."

"Something's not right here,'' he went on, sniffing the air suspiciously. "Too dry. Too . . . something."

I thought the weather was just fine. Terrin enjoyed complaining; he was good at it, but I wasn't in the
mood to help him indulge. Verna's cooking was first-rate and its proper digestion deserved my undivided
attention.

The walk in was easy, with a gradual traffic increase the farther we went. Much of it tended to be
farmers with things to sell, but they'd give the way over to an occasional cart or passenger wagon, and a
few times guys in uniforms would march or ride past. I checked these dudes out for weapons, since you
can tell a lot about the level of a place's tech development by what kinds of things people used to kill
each other. It's a sad comment on the human condition, but we're kind of stuck with it.

There were lots of swords—the skinny kind—bows, knives, lances, and a crossbow-type contraption.
No firearms yet that I noticed, but maybe an ordinary soldier or town guard couldn't afford a pistol. I'd
rather no one had to carry weapons at all, but people are people, and not everyone is as easy to get
along with as I am. Not that I was above protecting myself, but I'm more of a lover than a fighter.

The town proved to be fairly large, sprawling beyond the confines of a high defense wall. That was good
and bad. We could blend in better with a crowd, but unless they had a covered sewer system, things
tended to get smelly in walled cities. I'd never fully appreciated the joys of modern sanitation until my first
encounter with a genuine medieval-type settlement. True civilization—as I broadly defined it now—was
any society with working indoor plumbing and real toilet paper.

More soldier types trooped past, not quick-marching, but not wasting time. Several of them stared at
me, either puzzled or amused, and I heard speculations about circuses. That was good. No one was
drawing back in abject terror, muttering about two-legged cat demons, or making signs against the evil
eye. I'd experienced all of those in our travels, and being taken for a side-show exhibit is preferable.

Joining in with a knot of locals, we passed unchallenged through one of the many wide-open gates,
which seemed a favorable sign of peaceful times. There were all different types of skin shades, costumes,
and accents, lending a cosmopolitan air to the place, and everyone looked fairly healthy and well-fed.
Hopefully, this would be just another quiet stopover until the travel crystals were charged up again with
magical energy. Then we could take off for the next world under better circumstances than our last rapid
launch. Maybe the next trip would even take us home.

Zack had recommended a place to stay that was cheap, clean, and served food that wouldn't kill you.
He said to mention his name to the owner. After some asking around on the twisty cobbled streets we
found it, a modest two-story structure, this time with a tile roof, not thatch. The ground floor was
half-tavern, half-café. We didn't have any local money, but had learned to be inventive about making a
living, and we're not shy about applying for work. The owner already had plenty of free help—his