"L. E. Modesitt - Recluce 07 - The magic Engineer" - читать интересную книгу автора (Modesitt L E)

onto a space filled with three tables. The corner table, set between two windows, contains two
covered pots seeping steam and a tray filled with plain rolls. Six chairs are pulled up to the
table.
Dorrin's stomach growls, not loudly enough, he hopes, for the sound to be heard. It has been a
while since the noon meal.
"Sit down anywhere," offers the magistra.
Dorrin waits until his father and Hegl move toward seats, then glances at Kadara and offers her
the chair he holds. She shakes her head and sits on the other side of her father. Dorrin sits
beside his father, leaving the empty chair between himself and the smith.
Lortren nods toward the pots. "Hot cider or tea. Help yourself."


file:///F|/rah/L.%20E.%20Modesitt/Modesitt,%20...0Recluse%2007%20-%20The%20Magic%20Engineer.txt (7 of 289) [5/22/03 12:39:57 AM]
 file:///F|/rah/L.%20E.%20Modesitt/Modesitt,%20L%20E%20-%20Recluse%2007%20-%20The%20Magic%20Engineer.txt

As Oran lifts the teapot, Lortren clears her throat softly. "Some people have called this the
Academy of Useless Knowledge and Unnecessary Violence ... or the School for Sophistry and Swords.
For most people who live on Recluce, the description is probably correct. We try to teach the
understanding behind knowledge and the use of weapons for those who learn that understanding. Both
tend to be necessary." Her eyes turn on Dorrin. "Do you know why?"
"No, magistra."
"I won't force an answer from you. That comes later. The simple answer is that once you learn
why things work, you generally upset people, particularly in places like Nordla and Candar. People
who are upset often want to take it out on those who upset them. It helps if you can protect
yourself." The black eyes twinkle for a moment.
"You mention travel to Candar ..." asks Hegl hesitantly.
"Most of those who learn here end up spending time in Candar or Nordla. Some even go to Afrit-
Hamor, usually."
"Why?" asks Oran casually, as if he knows the answer.
"Because instruction is never enough for those who have difficulty accepting things as they
are."
Hegl swallows and nods. Kadara nods, and Dorrin frowns, wondering if the Academy is nothing
more than a way to educate troublemakers for exile. He keeps his words to himself, since saying
anything will change nothing.
"You speak as though your . . . students ... are almost troublemakers," offers Kadara, her
voice brittle.
"All of you are. I was once, also. It usually takes not only training and theory, but a healthy
dose of reality to turn chaotic trouble-making into something useful."
Dorrin sips the hot tea and munches on a roll.
Hegl glances from the white-haired magistra with the unlined face and melodic voice to his
daughter, then toward the air wizard. "I wonder..."
"You wonder if entrusting your daughter to me is a good idea? I would too. It's not a good
idea. The only problem is that the alternatives are worse." The melodic voice turns hard. "What
happens to chaos-mongers?"
"They get exiled," responds Hegl.
"What generally leads to chaos-mongering?"
The smith shrugs.
"Discontent, unhappiness with life," answers the air wizard.
"That's your real choice," affirms the magistra.
"Because I'm not happy with the way you all have arranged my life, I have to learn all this