"Tanya Huff - Be It Ever So Humble" - читать интересную книгу автора (Huff Tanya)

children treated her like an exotic curiosity and she tried to live up to their expectations. The adults
treated her with a wary suspicion and she tried not to live up to theirs. Carlos treated her like a friend.
The oldest in the village by a good twenty years, his eyes sometimes twinkled and sparkled and looked
no older than Juan's. Sometimes they burned with more mature fires and she longed to give him back his
youth if only for a few hours behind the dunes. Sometimes they appeared deeper and blacker and wiser
than the night sky. Sometimes they just looked old. Marveling, she realized that he remembered all the
ages he had been and more, that they were with him still, making a home, not a prison, of his age. This
was his strength, and Magdelene placed the lesson it taught her carefully away with her other precious
things. She began to hope the village had a place for her. In the morning of the fourth day, they'd
gathered about the well-the wizard and the few adults who remained ashore due to age or disability-
when the high-pitched shriek of a child jerked all heads around.

"Riders!"

Screaming out the news of their discovery, Juan and three of the other children burst into the center
of the village. The chickens panicked, screeched, and scattered. The adults tried to make sense out of the
cacophony.

"One at a time!" The baker finally managed to make himself heard. "Juan, what happened?"

"Riders, uncle!" Juan told him, bouncing in his excitement. "Five of them. On horses. Coming here!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! We were going up the track to look for gooseberries ..." The other three children nodded
vigorously in agreement. "... and we met them coming down."

"They aren't traders?"

Juan sighed in exaggerated exasperation. "Uncle, I seen traders before. And these aren't. . ." He
noticed the baker was no longer looking at him, noticed no one was looking at him, so he let the last

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word trail off and he turned.

They rode slowly, with a ponderous certainty more threatening than a wild charge. Voluminous robes
in tans and browns hid all but their eyes and each wore a long, curved blade. They stopped, the line of
horses reflecting the line of the well, and the rider in the center let the fabric drop from his face.

Nice, thought Magdelene, continuing to stroke the black and white cat sprawled across her lap. Good
cheekbones, flashing eyes, full lips, and, she realized, shoulders dropping a little in disappointment,
about as congenial as H'sak.

"We have come," said the rider, "for the kayle."

Carlos stepped forward, his hand on Juan's shoulder- both to support himself and to keep the boy
from doing anything rash. "What do you have to trade?" he asked levelly.