"Robin Hobb - Soldier Son 01 - Shaman's Crossing" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hobb Robin)

annoyed the others that she looked so intently at me for they stared
at her like hungry dogs studying a plump kitten.
She and the scout dismounted outside the same building that my
father had entered. The scout had a clear, carrying voice, and we all
heard him tell her that he would join her as soon as he’d delivered
his report to the commander. He gave her some coins and told her
she might go down the street to the bazaar and get some sweets or
fresh caralin juice or ribbons for her hair, but not to go beyond the
line of stalls there. “Yes, Papa. I will.” She promised her father
quickly, her eagerness to get to the market evident in her voice. The
scout glanced over at my cluster of lads and scowled at us absent-
mindedly, and then hurried up the steps into the command quarters.
His daughter was left alone in the street.
In such a circumstance, I know my sisters would have been
terrified. My parents would never have left Elisi and little Yaril in a
barracks town without an adult chaperone. I wondered if her father
did not care for her. Then, as she strode smiling down the street,
heading past the knot of boys and toward the vendors’ stores on the
market square just outside the outpost gates, I saw that she was not
frightened or cowed in the least. She walked with confidence and

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Shaman's Crossing - Robin Hobb - Soldier Son 01


grace, intent on exploring the many delights of the bazaar. My gaze
followed her.
“Look at her, will you?” one of the older boys hissed to his friend.
Raven grinned knowingly. “That hinny’s tamed. See that iron thing
round her neck? Long as she wears that, her charms don’t work.”
I looked from one leering young face to the other, confused. “Her
charms?” I asked.
It was flattering when Raven deigned to notice me. “Little silver
jingly things, woven in her hair, supposed to protect her. Plains
magic. But someone tamed her. Put an iron collar on a
plainswoman, and she can’t use her charms against you. She’s ripe
for the picking, that hinny is.”
“Picking what?” I boldly asked. There was no hinny to be seen,
only the girl walking past us. I was confused and resolved to get an
explanation. I did not know at that time that my bold assumption of
not only equality but superiority to these sons of common soldiers
would be resented by the older boys. Raven brayed a laugh out, and
then said to me earnestly, “Why, to picking out her friends, of
course. You seen how she looked at you? She wants to be your
friend. And you want her to be friends with us, right, ’cause we’re
your friends, too. Whyn’t you just go out there and catch her by the
hand and lead her back here to us?”
Raven’s voice was sugary, but his words fell somewhere between a
compliment and a dare. As he spoke, he gestured to the other boys,
and they all retreated more deeply into the alley between the