"Charles Ingrid - The Sand Wars 06 - Challenge Met" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ingrid Charles)

"It's the Walkers. They've heard my private ship was berthing
today—they've come to see if I've brought back their saint." Pepys' voice
was faint and bitter. "He brought me to this."

Jack straightened. A riot guard, faintly seen, but still visible at the
perimeters of the landing field jostled against a wall of flesh. He could not
hear the voices at this range, but the sight of Thraks in riot gear and battle
armor controlling ordinary people made his flesh prickle. "They know St.
Colin's missing?"

"Yes, damn it all. Word broke out while we were en route. I could not
have kept it quiet much longer anyway, but I had hoped for better." Pepys
stepped up, joining them at the window. "Old friend," he said quietly. "Is
this the legacy you wanted to leave?"

Jack had often seen fiery indignation in Colin's mild brown eyes, but he
knew the Walker leader would never want a religious war in his name. The
Walker religion had been embraced for its benevolent tenets as well as its
search for new worlds that Christ might have visited. It was as tolerant as
any religion he knew, though he did not espouse it. The fervor he saw now,
the wave of humanity dashing itself against the riot shields and inflexible,
beetlelike carapaces of the Thraks, bore no resemblance to anything he'd
ever heard Colin preach.

He started to say something as he turned to Pepys, but the emperor was
still fixed on the sight before them, and interrupted Jack, saying, "So you
may call my honorable Knights an escort or a guard or whatever you
wish—but we're not leaving here without them. We'll never get through
otherwise." Pepys backed away from the window. With a snap, he added,
"You've agreed to find Colin for me. Cross me now, and you'll not only be
court-martialed for the treasonous acts you've committed and been taken
prisoner for—you'll be the one responsible for the slaughter that follows."
 The emperor left abruptly. Amber tilted her head, waiting until the fall of
his steps could no longer be heard. Then she said, "Nice man."

Jack made a noncommittal sound. He unclenched his hands from the
back of her chair and moved them to the back of her neck, where he stroked
soft and fragrant skin. "A fine pair we are," he told her. "A treasonous
Knight and a thief."

She laughed and raised her arms so that she might grasp his hands. "A
thief and an assassin," she corrected. "But you've never betrayed your
Knighthood." Her voice sharpened. "Pepys corrupted it—corrupted them
all." Her words were spat out, venomous and bitter.

He leaned over her. "Witch."

She tilted her head back, throat arching gracefully. "Hero."