"02 - Rise of a Merchant Prince" - читать интересную книгу автора (Feist Raymond E)

home.
High aloft that ship, a young man worked quickly, reefing the
mizzen topsail. Roo paused a moment as he tied the final reef
point, and looked across the harbor at the City of Krondor.
The Prince's city spread out along the docks, rose on hills to
the south, and spread out of sight to the north. The panorama
was impressive as the ship sped in from the sea. The young
Man-eighteen years of age at the next Midsummer's festival had
thought on numerous occasions over the past year and more
that he would never see the city again. Yet here he was, finishing
up his watch atop the mizzen mast of the Freeport Ranger, a
ship under the command of Admiral Nicholas, brother to the
King of the Kingdom of the Isles and uncle to the Prince of
Krondor.
Krondor was the second most important city in the Kingdom of
the Isles, the capital of the Western Realm and seat of power for
the Prince of Krondor, heir to the throne of the Isles. Roo could
see the multitude of small buildings scattered across the hills surrounding
the harbor, the vista dominated by the Prince's palace,

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which sat atop a steep hill hard against the water. The majesty of
the palace was in stark contrast to the rude buildings that lined
the waterfront close by, warehouses and chandlers' shops, sail- and
rope-makers, carpenters and sailor's inns. Second only to the Poor
Quarter as a haven for thugs and thieves, the waterfront was
thrown by the proximity of the palace into an even more seedy
aspect.
Yet Roo was pleased to see Krondor, for now he was a free man.
He glanced one last time at his work, ensuring that the sail was
properly reefed, and moved quickly along the footrope with a sure
balance learned while crossing treacherous seas for nearly two
years.
Roo considered the oddity of facing his third spring in a row
without a winter. The topsy-turvy seasons of the land on the other
side of the world had contrived to provide Roo and his boyhood
friend, Erik, with such a situation, and Roo found the notion both
amusing and oddly disquieting.
He shimmied down a sheet, reaching the top of the mizzen-mast
ratline. Roo didn't particularly like top work, but as one of the
smaller and more nimble men in the crew, he was often told to
go aloft and unfurl or reef the royals and topgallants. He scampered
down the ratline and landed lightly on the deck.
Erik von Darkmoor, Roo's only friend as a boy, finished his task
of tying off a yard brace to a cleat, then hurried to the rail as they
sped past other ships in the harbor. A full two heads taller and