"Raymond E. Feist - Empire Saga 1 - Daughter Of The Empire" - читать интересную книгу автора (Feist Raymond E)

Keyoke turned away from two soldiers who were studying the ground for tracks that might indicate
the numbers and strength of the renegades. If he noticed her tear-stained face, his own leathery features
showed no reaction. Imposing in his lacquer armour, his plumed helm dangling by its strap from his belt,
he gestured towards a line of broken fencing, which slaves in loincloths laboured to repair. 'Outlaws, my
Lady. Ten, or perhaps a dozen. They killed a herd boy, smashed through the fence, and drove off some
needra.'

'How many?' Mara gestured, and the Force Commander helped her from the litter. Grass felt strange
under her sandals after temple confinement and months of echoing stone floors; also unexpected were the
smells of rich earth and khala vines, which twined the fence rows. Mara pushed aside her momentary
distraction and greeted Jican's presence with a frown the image of her father's when domestic affairs went
amiss.

Though the hadonra had had little contact with the former Lord of the Acoma, that look was legend.
Sweating, fingers clenched nervously to his tally slate, he bowed. 'Lady, at most you have lost three or
four cows. I can report for certain when the strays are rounded up.'

Mara raised her voice over the bawl of agitated animals as herders whistled, their long steering sticks
and hide whips singing through the air as they drove their charges to a secure corral. 'Strays?'

Cross with Jican's diffidence, Keyoke answered, his tone better suited to the battlefield on the
barbarian world than the trampled earth of a needra meadow. 'The beasts in this pasture were due for
breeding. The smell of blood startled them into stampede, which alerted the herders.' He paused, eyes
raking the distant line of the woods.

The tautness in his manner sharpened Mara's concern. 'What troubles you, Keyoke? Sure not the loss
of a few cows, or one murdered slave?'

'No, Lady.' Eyes still on the woods, the old soldier shook his head. 'I regret the ruin of good property,
but no, the cows and the boy are the lesser problem.' He paused while an overseer shouted; the team of
slaves bent to raise a new post, while the Force Commander related the worst. 'We have been vigilant
since the Hamoi dog sought your life, mistress. These were no petty thieves. They struck, and departed,
during daylight, which speaks of advance planning and a thorough knowledge of patrols.'

Mara felt fear like a sliver of ice. Carefully steady, she said, 'Spies?' The Lord of the Anasati would
not be above staging a false raid by 'bandits', if he wished to gauge the strength of the Acoma forces.

Keyoke fingered his sword. 'I think not, mistress.' He qualified this with his usual almost uncanny
perception. 'Minwanabi is never so subtle, and the Anasati have no outposts far enough south to have
organized an attack so swiftly. No, this seems the work of soldiers, masterless ones surely.'

'Grey warriors?' Mara's frown deepened as she considered the rough, clanless men who often banded
together in the mountains. With the Acoma so severely undermanned, such as these under the guidance
of a shrewd commander might prove as menacing as any plot by enemies.

Keyoke slapped dust from his cuffs and again regarded the hills, deepening now under shadow of
dusk. 'With my Lady's permission, I would send out scouts. If grey warriors were responsible for this
raid, they sought only to fill their bellies. There will be smoke, and cook fires; or if there are not, we
know that word of our weakness travels swiftly to enemy ears.'