"John G. Hemry - Kyrie Eleison" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hemry John G)

important than that.” He toyed with a remnant of pastry, oblivious to the way
Francesa couldn’t avoid staring toward it. “Two lashes. After the morning Report.”

Francesa’s body tensed, then she nodded, once again bringing her right hand
to her brow. “Two lashes. After the morning Report.”

Varasan flipped his own hand into the general vicinity of his brow in response,
then went back to his meal, ignoring her as she left.

****

She veered through the kitchen, coming to a halt near one of the cooks. The
cook glanced down at her and smiled. “Francesa. What brings you here?”

“Are there any leftovers?” she asked, trying to keep the neediness from her
voice.

The cook’s smile turned rueful. “Before most of the Officers and Crew have
even eaten? Not likely.” He turned away, hesitated, then shoved something toward
her. “This bit was ruined by a new apprentice. Get rid of it, will you?”

Francesa took the roll, her hands shaking. “Aye.”

The cook glanced at her for a moment. “The harvest isn’t too good, I hear.”

Francesa nodded. “My friend Ivry works the fields.” As bad as working
around the Officers and Crew could be, at least most of the time Francesa was
sheltered inside. Those in the fields took the brunt of the weather for their entire
work shifts. “She says the weather went cold too early.”

“The weather’s always cold,” the cook remarked gloomily, his eyes straying
toward a high slit window where a small patch of pale sky could be seen. “Though it
seems colder now, in truth. Will there be enough food this year?”

“I...” Francesa looked down at the roll in her hand. “I don’t know.”

“Not enough, maybe,” the cook murmured. “Third year in a row. Not that
there’s ever been enough, not since I was younger than you, but it’s worse lately.
The Officers say the Captain’s angry with us. And the Officers and Crew must be
fed before workers like us. Captain’s orders.” He touched his brow with his right
hand.

Francesa kept her face calm despite the anger that surged inside. Nodding
politely, she hastened from the kitchen and wolfed down half the roll. She managed
to pause after that, staring down at the bread and thinking of a little brother with a
belly as thin as her own. Biting her lip, she wrapped the other half carefully in a scrap
of rag and stuffed it into a nearby hiding place where it would be safe until her work
shift finished.

The morning bells sounded, calling them to Report. Francesa joined a slowly