"Juliet E. McKenna - Einarinn 4 - The Warrior's Bond" - читать интересную книгу автора (McKenna Juliet E)

her tongue if Livak returned to find I'd failed to play my part. Smiling at
that thought, I recovered my damp cloak from its hook. 'I'll go and see how
they are getting on at the dock.'
Casuel was already deep in his books; so much for his concern for his fellow
mage. I left him to it and went back down the hill to the harbour. Seeing
Glannar's men at their ease in front of the barred warehouse door, I looked
for Temar. He was standing amid burly dockers, counting out coin into the
gang-leader's calloused palm.
'A fair rate for the day,' I observed, calculating the Tormalin Crowns bright
in the man's filthy hand. The docker grunted noncommittally.
'But with the weather hardly fair, I think something over for the cold and the
wet.' Temar dropped a couple of silver Marks on to the gold and a grudging
smile lifted the docker's lip to reveal stained brown teeth.
'Pleasure to do business with you, Esquire,' he nodded before stowing the coin
securely in a money belt and whistling up his crew with a gesture towards a
nearby tavern.
'You don't want to get a reputation as an easy touch,' I warned Temar.
He shrugged, unconcerned. 'If the ships of Kel Ar'Ayen are known to pay well,
we will never lack for labour to get them unloaded.' He nodded towards the
ship that had brought Velindre. 'So who is this wizard that I owe my life? How
does she arrive in so timely a fashion?'
'Her name's Velindre, but that's all I know of her,' I admitted reluctantly.
'She says she's interested in the winds and currents of Kellarin's coast, but
Planir thinks she may have ambitions to make a name for herself in Hadrumal.'
'If she hopes for a salvage due, she had best get in line behind those others
looking to make a claim on the colony,' said Temar lightly.
I looked at him, assessing the hint of seriousness in his words. With an easy
assumption of D'Olbriot authority over Kellarin running through the idle
gossip of sworn and chosen over the last season, I'd been the only one
suggesting the game might play out differently.
'Temar!' A thin woman came striding over the cobbles towards us, hood falling
back from brown hair liberally
streaked with grey and concern deepening the lines of age in her face. Though
the rain had all but ceased, she was wiping her face in unthinking, repetitive
gestures, speaking rapidly to Temar. Her speech was too thick with the
intonation of Old Toremal for me, but I recognised her as the Demoiselle Tor
Arrial, one of Kellarin's few other surviving nobility. Temar nodded and
looked at me. 'Avila wishes to know where we are to lodge. Most of the crew
and other passengers are claiming rooms in these inns.'
'We have everything you need made ready at the Shrine of Ostrin.' I spoke
slowly in my most formal accent. Avila Tor Arrial looked at me sharply, one
chapped hand clutching a cloak pin set with rubies and pale rose diamonds at
her throat. After a pause she nodded and her gesture needed no translation, so
I led the way, leaving behind the ramshackle dock-side for the more regular
streets around the circle of Ostrin's walls.
'I thought there were supposed to be more of you,' I remarked to Temar.
He shrugged. 'When it came to it, they all found reasons to stay. The more we
talk to the sailors, to the mages, the more we learn how our world has
changed. At least in Kellarin we know what we are dealing with.' He fell
silent and we walked without speaking until we reached the embrace of Ostrin's