"Barbara Hambly - Sun Wolf 2 - Witches of Wenshar" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hambly Barbara)

his smile with a saucy wink; Sun Wolf, as he and Starhawk divested
themselves of their scarred sheepskin coats, observed that Nanciormis
drew the admiring eyes of several of the women of the Household.
Though corpulent, he was a good-looking man still; but beyond that,
Sun Wolf guessed he was the type of man whose vitality would attract
women, no matter how fat he became. Even on short acquaintance and
in spite of his carelessness about breaking into the delicate
concentration needed for the war dance, Sun Wolf found the man
likable.
He made a mental note to take that into account.
"Your people, it looked like."
Nanciormis checked his stride. His long hair, braided down from
the temples and hanging in a loose mane of black curls behind, caught
the sheen of the lamps as he jerked his head around.
"The shirdar-the desert folk," the Wolf went on. "There was a little
trouble at the Longhorn-four of 'em proposed a toast to the Princess
Taswind's prospective husband-I take it the match is about as popular
as maggots in the beer hereabouts. A man named Norbas Milkom was
the cause of it, though why they attacked the King ... "
The commander groaned, and all wariness fled from his eyes. "I
should have known. No, the match isn't a popular one." He grinned
ruefully and took a seat in one of the chairs by the hearth-heavy ebony
from the forests of Kimbu in the south, re-cushioned with local work of
red leather. "Beyond a doubt, they attacked the King because he was
foolish enough to walk back alone-unlike our canny Norbas. It's
known throughout the desert they've been friends for forty years-if
indeed they were the same shirdar as the ones at the Longhorn."
A servant came up-the same who had taken their coats-with an
intricately worked brass tray holding wine cups and dates in a
hammered silver bowl. Sun Wolf saw now that she, like Nanciormis
and, he guessed, Anshebbeth also, was of the shirdar, though without
the reserved dignity of their ways. Along the foothills, they must have
been living among and marrying with the ex-slaves of the north for
generations. When she thought no one was looking, she mouthed a kiss
at Nanciormis; he received it with a suppressed smile and a dance of
pleasure in his pouchy dark eyes.
He went on, "They may have been merely bandits-there are a lot
of them along the cordillera-or they may have been operating by the
same logic used by the men of Wenshar when they kill Hasdrozidar of
the Dunes or Seifidar of the White Erg in retaliation for Regidar
slave-raids, not troubling to inquire the truth. All of our people here are
looked upon with mistrust by those who came from the north of the
mountains.
"With reason," a quiet voice said at his elbow. Sitting with his back
to a comer and his blind side to Starhawk, Sun Wolf had seen the
slender old man approach them-he would, indeed, have been difficult
to miss. He was wearing what Starhawk irreverently described as the
undress uniform of Trinitarian bishops, and his scarlet surcoat and gold
tabard picked up the torchlight on their bullion embroidery as if the old
man were netted all over with a spiderweb of flame. Garnet and rock