"Katherine Kerr - Deverry 02 - Darkspell" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kerr Katherine)

whatever appealed to them, while the music, talk, and laughter went on. Devaberiel was searching for
Manaverr, whose alar traditionally roasted a whole lamb in a pit.

Finally he found them near the edge of the camp. A couple of young men were just digging the lamb
up, while others brought over leaves to make a clean bed to receive it. Manaverr himself hurried over to
greet the bard. His hair was so pale that it was almost white, and his cat-slit eyes a deep purple. They
each put their left hand on the other’s right shoulder in greeting.

‘It’s a big gathering,’ Manaverr said.
 ‘They all knew you’d be here to do the lamb.’

Manaverr laughed with a toss of his head. A small green sprite popped into manifestation and perched
on his shoulder. When he reached up to pat her, she grinned, revealing a mouthful of pointed teeth.

‘Have you seen Calonderiel yet?’ Manaverr said.

‘The warleader? No. Why?’

‘He’s been asking every bard here about some obscure point of somebody’s genealogy. He’ll
probably work his way around to you sooner or later.’

The sprite suddenly pulled his hair, then vanished before he could swat her. The alardan was filled
with Wildfolk, rushing around as excitedly as the children. Sprite, gnome, sylph, and salamander, they
were the spirits of the elements, who at times took on a solid appearance, even though their home lay
elsewhere in the many-layered universe. Devaberiel was not quite sure where; only dweomerfolk knew
such things.

With one last heave, the men got up the lamb, wrapped in charred coarse cloth, and flopped it onto
the leaves. The smell of the roast meat, heavily spiced and baked with fruit, was so inviting that
Devaberiel moved closer without even being aware that he was doing so, but he had to wait for his
portion. Calonderiel the warleader strode over and hailed him. He looked much like Man-averr, his
cousin.

‘What’s this mysterious question?’ the bard asked him.

‘Just a point of curiosity,’ Calonderiel said. ‘You know that I rode with Aderyn when he was off
chasing Loddlaen, don’t you?’

‘I heard something of the story.’

‘All right, then. I met a human warleader called Rhodry Maelwaedd, a lad of twenty. Strangely
enough, he’s got a good bit of our blood in his veins. I was wondering if you knew how it had gotten into
his clan.’

‘A woman of the People married Pertyc Maelwaedd in ... oh, when was that . . . well, say two
hundred years ago.’

‘That long? But I saw Rhodry handle a piece of dwarven silver, and it blazed in his hands.’

‘Really? Then it can’t just be that distant relationship. What was his father’s name?’