"Raymond E. Feist - Kingdom of the Isles 2 - The King's Buccaneer" - читать интересную книгу автора (Feist Raymond E)

Nakor nimbly dodged it and said, "Some good fight you have there. Wagon
drivers?"

Ghuda shook his head. "No guests tonight. That's just my woman's seven kids
tearing up the common room, as usual."

Nakor dropped his rucksack and sat down upon the hitching rail and said,
"Well, give me something to eat, then we'll go-"

Returning to sharpening his dirk, Ghuda said, "Go where?"

"Krondor."

Ghuda shut his eyes a moment. The only person they both knew in Krondor was
Prince Borric. "This is not a perfect existence, by any measure, Nakor, but
I'm contented to remain here. Now go away."

The little man bit into his orange, pulled off a large piece of peel, and spat
it out. He bit deeply into the orange and slurped loudly as he did. Wiping his
mouth with the back of his wrist,
4 Raymond E. Feist

he said, "Contented with that?" He pointed into the darkened doorway, through
which the wail of a child carried over the general shouts and breakage.

Ghuda said, "Well, it's a hard life, sometimes, but rarely is anyone trying to
kill me; I know where I'm sleeping every night, and I eat well and bathe
regularly. My woman's affectionate, and the children—" Another child's loud
shriek was punctuated by the sound of an indignant infant's wailing cry.
Looking at Nakor, Ghuda asked, "I'm going to regret asking this, but why do we
need to go to Krondor?"

"Got to see a man," Nakor said as he sat back on the hitching rail, hooking
one foot behind a post to keep his bal-

ance.

"One thing about you, Nakor, you never bore a man to death with unnecessary
details. What man?"

"Don't know. But we'll find out when we get there."

Ghuda sighed. "Last time I saw you, you were riding north out of the City of
Kesh, heading for that island of magicians, Stardock. You were wearing a great
cape and blue robe of magnificent weave, the horse was a black desert stallion
worth a year's wages, and you had a purse full of the Empress's gold."

Nakor shrugged. "The horse ate bad grass, got colic, and ' died." He fingered
the dirty, torn blue robe he wore. "The great cape kept catching in things, so
I threw it away. The robe is the one I still wear. The sleeves were too long,