"Katherine Kerr - Deverry 10 - The Black Raven" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kerr Katherine)

your fellow citizens look down long noses at me.'
'It does gripe mine, too.'
They walked on, past the stone council house that graced the side of the plaza
opposite the temple. At the stone well Verrarc paused. Wrapped in her shabby
cloak Dera was hauling up a bucket of water. He'd not heard that she'd mended
from her latest bout of winter rheum, and her face seemed thinner than ever,
framed by wisps of grey hair.
'Here!' Verrarc called out. 'Let me take that for you.'
He hurried over, leaving Raena to follow after, and grabbed the heavy bucket's
handle in both hands. Dera let it go with a sigh of thanks. Her face was pale,
as well as thin, and scored with deep wrinkles across her cheeks.
'You'll not be carrying such when I'm about,' Verrarc said, smiling. 'I do ken
that Kiel be on watch, but surely your man or your daughter could have fetched
this.'
'Lael be off setting traps in the granary.' Dera's voice rasped, all parched.
'And Niffa? Well, the poor little thing be wrapped in her grief. Sometimes she
does stay abed all through the daylight, only to sit up weeping in the night.'
'Ai!' Verrarc shook his head and sighed. That be a sad thing, truly, and her
so young.'
'It is. Well, good morrow, Mistress Raena! Taking a bit of air with your man?'
'I am indeed.' Raena had come up beside him. 'And a good morrow to you,
Mistress Dera.' She smiled, nearly radiant. 'It does gladden my heart to see
you well.'
'My thanks,' Dera said. 'But I'd best not stay out in this cold, alas.'
'Indeed you shouldn't,' Verrarc said. 'I'll just be carrying this down for
you.'
'I'll be going back home, then.' Raena glanced his way. This winter air, it
does cut like ice. But Mistress Dera, might I come pay a call on your
daughter? Mayhap I could help cheer her.'
'Why, now, that would be most kind of you!'
Dera smiled, Raena smiled, but Verrarc found himself suddenly wondering if
Raena would harm the lass. His fear shamed him; it seemed such a foreign
thought, dropped into his mind by some other person or perhaps even a spirit.
He carried the water bucket down the twisting path to Dera's rooms behind the
public granary and saw her safely inside, then hurried back to the house. By
then the sun hung close to the horizon, and the winter night loomed.
When he came in, Raena was sitting in her chair near the roaring fire. He hung
his cloak on the peg next to hers and joined her, stretching out grateful
hands to the warmth.
'Dera, she be a decent soul indeed,' Raena said.
'She is,' Verrarc said, 'and I trust you'll remember how highly I honour her
and hers. No harm to her kin, Rae. I mean it.'
'Of course not! What do you think I might do?'
'I did wonder why you showed such interest in Niffa, naught more.'
They considered each other, and once again Verrarc felt his old suspicion
rise. Had Raena somehow murdered Niffa's husband? She'd been worshipping her
wretched Lord Havoc in the ruins when Demet had been slain, after all. Don't
be a fool, he told himself. How could she possible have harmed a strong young
lad such as he? Lord Havoc, now - him he could believe a murderer.
'Oh come now, Verro.' Raena lowered her voice. 'Remember you not the omen I