"Julia Gray - Guardian 04 - The Red Glacier" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gray Julia)

pure supposition, and neither Terrel nor the sailor had been able to come up
with a reason why Kjolur should have thought such an arrangement worthwhile.
Nevertheless, there had to be some reason for Ostan's abrupt change of heart.
But if Kjolur had intervened, what was his motive? Simply to help an ally of
one day's standing? That didn't seem likely, but Terrel couldn't think of any
sensible alternatives. And — assuming the islander was responsible — then why
was he seemingly intent on acting anonymously? He'd made no attempt to talk to
Terrel that day, and had spent most of his time below decks.
Terrel wasn't sure whether to confront Kjolur or simply accept his good
fortune. Eventually, however, his curiosity overcame his reticence and he
tracked the merchant down to his tiny private cabin. When he knocked and
announced himself, a few moments passed before the door was unlocked - and
from the various noises within, Terrel got the impression that the islander
was tidying some things away before letting his visitor in. However, when
Kjolur
eventually opened the door, he was smiling and his welcome seemed genuine.
'Come in, come in. It's a bit cramped, I'm afraid. Would you like a glass of
meletar?'
Terrel looked at the clear, honey-coloured liquid and shook his head.
'No, thanks. I don't have a good head for drink.' That was a simplification of
the truth. His very real aversion to alcohol stemmed from more complicated
reasons.
'Shame. This is good stuff Kjolur took an appreciative sip from his own glass.
'What brings you to my lair?' He settled himself and waved Terrel to take a
seat at the other end of the narrow bunk.
'I was wondering whether you had anything to do with the captain changing his
mind about Whale Ness.'
'Would it be so surprising if I did?'
'We've only just met. Why would you want to help me?'
'Don't you believe in first impressions?'
'Sometimes.'
'So do I. Call it intuition, if you like. My powers of persuasion are
obviously greater than I thought.'
'So you didn't pay Ostan, then?'
Kjolur did not respond immediately. His smile faded slowly, and Terrel felt as
if he were being impaled by the calm gaze of those uncanny green eyes.
'I'm a businessman, Terrel,' the merchant said at last. 'Why would I do that?'
'I've no idea.'
'There's no profit in it for me, is there?'
'No, but—'
'Tell me, have you revealed everything about what you're going to do on
Myvatan?'
'I don't know everything myself.'
'Fair enough. But have you told me all you do know?'
Terrel's hesitation betrayed him. He wasn't sure where the conversation was
leading, but Kjolur had succeeded in putting him at a disadvantage.
'It's all right,' the islander said. 'You don't have to answer, and I've no
intention of prying. Every man is entitled to keep his own counsel when he
wants to.'
'Including you,' Terrel said, finally seeing the point the other man was