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

buildings. I stared up at him for a moment longer. His cheek was


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Shaman's Crossing - Robin Hobb - Soldier Son 01


downy, and the fine hair held the dust of the street. The corners of
his mouth were caked with dust that had been trapped there by
stray, sticky crumbs. His hair was shaggily cut, his clothing dirty.
But he was older than I was, and he’d been playing with a knife,
and thus I yearned to distinguish myself in his eyes.
The girl walked like a gazelle going down to water. She was intent
on her quest, and yet both wary and aware of what was around her.
She did not look at us, but I knew she had seen us. She probably
knew we were talking about her. I darted out a few steps into the
street to intercept her, and when she looked at me, I smiled at her.
She smiled down at me. It was all the encouragement I needed. I
hurried up to her, and she halted in the street.
“Hello. My friends want you to come and meet them.” Such an
ingenuous way for me to greet her. I had no idea I was leading her
into a vile trap.
I think she did. She looked past me at the loitering boys inside the
alley mouth, and then back at me again. I hope she saw I was
innocent of their scheme. She smiled again but her words dismissed
me. “I don’t think so. I’m going to the market. Goodbye.” Her voice
was clear and unaccented, and obviously intended to reach my
playmates’ ears.
They heard her words and saw how she strode off. One of my
erstwhile companions gave a catcall and Raven laughed at me. I
couldn’t stand it. I ran after her and seized her hand. “Please? Just
come over and say hello.”
She did not react with alarm, or take her hand from mine. She
considered me kindly for a moment and then offered, “You’re a

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Shaman's Crossing - Robin Hobb - Soldier Son 01


friendly little cub, aren’t you? Why don’t you come to the market
with me instead?”
Her invitation instantly attracted me more than the company of the
boys. I loved going to market almost as much as my sisters did.
Exotic goods and trinkets demanded to be handled and explored.
Market food was always exciting; I loved plains food, the spicy root-
paste rolled in terna seed, sweet and peppery meat sticks, and little
buns of salty ember-bread, each with a lump of carrada in the
middle. My gaze met her grey eyes and I found myself nodding and
smiling. I forgot the boys and their stick-knife game. For the
moment, I ignored the knowledge that not only Parth but also my