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

Mara sat stiffly. The trees that shaded the edge of the trail offered ready concealment, thick boles and
tangled brush casting shadows, deep enough to hide soldiers. And the wagons were a severe
disadvantage. The keenest ear could hear no rustle of foliage over the needra's bawl and the grinding
creak of wheels, and the sharpest eye became hampered by the ever-present dust. Even the
battle-hardened soldiers appeared on edge.

The sun climbed slowly towards noon. Heat shimmer danced over the valley left behind, and scaly,
long-tailed ketso scurried into hiding as the caravan rumbled past the rocks where they basked. The lead
wagons, then the litter, breasted the crest of a rise. Keyoke signalled a halt. The bearers lowered the litter
in the shade of an outcrop, giving silent prayers of thanks, but the drovers and the warriors maintained
position under Papewaio's vigilant eyes.

Ahead, a steep-sided ravine cut the east-facing slopes of the Kyamaka Mountains. The road plunged
steeply downward, folded into switchback curves, then straightened to slice across a hollow with a
spring.

Keyoke bowed before Mara's litter and indicated a dell to one side of the hollow, where no trees
grew and the earth was beaten and hard. 'Mistress, the scouts sent out after the raid found warm ashes
and the remains of a butchered needra in that place. They report tracks, and evidence of habitation, but
the thieves themselves have moved on. No doubt they keep moving their base.'

Mara regarded the ravine, shading her eyes against the afternoon glare with her hand. She wore robes
of exceptional richness, with embroidered birds on the cuffs, and a waistband woven of iridescent
plumes. A scarf of spun silk covered the welts on her neck, and her wrists clinked with bracelets of jade,
polished by the non-human cho-ja to transparent thinness. While her dress was frivolous and girlish, her
manner was intently serious. 'Do you expect an attack?'
 'I don't know.' Keyoke's gaze swept the ravine again, as if by force of concentration he could discern
any bandits lying hidden. 'But we must prepare ourselves for any turn of fate. And we must act as if
enemies observe every movement.'

'Continue on, then,' said Mara. 'Have the foot slave broach a water flask. The soldiers and litter
bearers may refresh themselves as we march. Then, when we reach the spring, we can make a show of
stopping for a drink and so seem more vulnerable than we are.'

Keyoke saluted. 'Your will, mistress. I will wait here for those who follow. Papewaio will assume
command of the caravan.' Then with a surprising show of concern in his eyes, he added softly, 'Be wary,
my Lady. The risks to your person are great.'

Mara held steady under his gaze. 'No more than my father would take. I am his daughter.'

The Force Commander returned one of his rare and brief smiles and turned from the litter. With a
minimum of disruption, he saw Mara's orders carried out. The water-bearer hustled through the ranks
with his flasks clanking from the harness he wore, dispensing drinks to the soldiers with a speed gained
only by years of campaigning. Then Keyoke signalled, and Papewaio gave the command to move out.
Needra drivers shouted, wheels creaked, and dust rose in clouds. The wagons rolled forward to the
crest, and then over to begin their ponderous descent to the ravine. Only a trained scout would have
noted that one less soldier left the camp than had entered.

Mara appeared dignified and serene, but her small painted fan trembled between nervous fingers. She