"Mercedes Lackey - Vows and Honor 2 - Oathbreaker" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lackey Mercedes)

“Scoutmaster?” came a plaintive call from out-side the tent. “Be ye awake yet?”
“Who the bloody—“ Tarma scrambled for the lacings of the door flaps as Kethry hastily cut the
spell about the door with two slashes of her hands and a muttered word.
“Get in here, child, before you turn into an ice lump!” Tarma hauled the half-frozen scout into
their tent; the girl’s brown eyes went round at the sight of the spell energy in the tent walls, wide
and no little frightened. She looked like what she was, a mountain peasant; short, stocky and
brown, round of face and eye. But she could stick to the back of her horse like a burr on a sheep,
she was shrewd and quick, and nobody’s fool. She was one of the Hawks Tarma had been
thinking of when she’d mentioned other ways of keeping warm; Kyra was shieldmated to Rild, a
mountain of a man who somehow managed to sit a horse as lightly as thin Tarma.
“Keth, this is Kyra, she’s one of the new ones. Replaced Pawell when he went down.” Tarma
pushed the girl down onto her bedroll and stripped the sodden black cloak from her shoulders,
hanging it to dry beside her own coat. “Kyra. don’t look so green; you’ve seen Keth in the
Healer’s tent; this is just a bit of magic so we sleep more comfortable. Keth’s better than a
brazier, and I don’t have to worry about her tipping over in the night!”
The girl swallowed hard, but looked a little less frightened. “Beg pardon, but I ain’t seen much
magery.”
“I should think not, out in these hills. Not much call for it, nor money to pay for it. So—spit it
out; what brings you here, instead of curled up with that monster you call a shieldmate?”
The girl blushed brilliant red. “Na, Scoutmaster—“
“Don’t ‘na’ me, my girl. I may not play the game anymore, but I know the rules—and before the
War-rior put her Oath on me, I had my moments, though you children probably wouldn’t think it
to look at me, old stick that I am. Out with it—something gone wrong with the pairing?”
“Eh, no! Naught like that—I just been thinking. Couldn’t get a look round before today; now
seems I know this pass, like. Got kin a ways west, useta summer wi’ ‘cm. Cousins. If I’m aright,
‘bout a day’s ride west o’ here. And there was always this rumor, see, there was this path up their
way—“
Tarma didn’t bother to hide her excitement; she leaned forward on her elbows, feeling a growing
internal certainty that what Kyra was about to re-veal was vital.
“—there was this story abaht the path, d’ye ken? The wild ones, the ponies, they used it. At
weanin’ time we’d go for ‘em t* harvest the foals, but some on ‘em would allus get away—well,
tales said they used that path, that it went all the way through t’other side. D’ye take my
meaning?”
“Warrior Bright, you bet I do, my girl!” Tarma jumped lithely to her feet, and pulled Kyra up
after her. “Keth?”
“Right.” Kethry made the slashing motions again, and the magic parted from the door flaps.
“Wait a hair—I don’t want you two finding our answer and then catching your deaths.”
Another pass of hands and a muttered verse sent water steaming up out of coat and cloak—when
Tarma pulled both off the centerpole they were dry to the touch.
Tarma flashed her partner a grin. “Thanks, mi-lady. If you get sleepy, leave the door open for me,
hey?”
Kethry gave a most unladylike snort. “As if I could sleep after this bit of news! I haven’t been
working with you for this long not to see what you saw—“
“The end to the stalemate.”
“You’ve said it. I’ll be awake for hours on this one.” Kethry settled herself with her blankets
around her, then dismissed the magic altogether. The tent went dark and cold again, and Kethry
relit her brazier with another muttered word. “I’ll put that jesto-vath back up when you get
back—and make it fast! Or I may die of nerves instead of freezing to death!”
Two
Back out into the cold and wet and dark they went, Kyra trailing along behind Tarma. She stayed