"L. E. Modesitt - Recluce 11 - The Death of Chaos" - читать интересную книгу автора (Modesitt L E)

The three look to the whitecapped surface of the Eastern Ocean beyond the harbor.


III

WHILE KRYSTAL WAS filling in for Ferrel, and while Ferrel was investigating the brimstone spring,
I was working on the first chair of the set of eight for Hensil-the olive trader who owned groves
from Kyphrien to Dasir. Like everyone lately, he wanted something "original." He'd liked a sketch
of a square-backed armchair where the upper joined corners were more like arcs than right angles.
The design took four dowellike shaft-spokes around a long diamond brace with his initial in the
center. I couldn't turn the shaft-spokes all the way down because the middles had to be grooved.
So I worked on one of them.
I was worried about the chair. The spokes still didn't feel right. I hadn't been sure of the
proportions. That happens the first time on a new design, and I'd rough-cut them too big. My
frugal side told me not to waste the wood, but that meant a lot of work. Planing cherry is hard
work, even after turning it down as much as possible.
I'd gotten one almost rough-finished, and it was time to start on the rest of the set. The
grooved spokes were the hardest. What I needed to do first was steam and bend the backs, since the
longer and more gently I worked the wood, the stronger they'd be. While they were setting, I could
go back to the time-consuming work of the spokes and the diamond backplate with the inlaid initial
H.
As usual, nothing worked quite as I planned. I didn't have enough clamps to do more than two
backs at a time, and the glue I'd made had gotten too thick.
While I was mumbling to myself about that, a single horse galloped into the yard. That was bad.
Krystal never rode alone, not anymore, and no one galloped unless it was a trooper in a hurry.
Although the last eight-day had been uneventful, that could change at any moment, especially when


file:///F|/rah/L.%20E.%20Modesitt/Modesitt,%2...cluse%2011%20-%20The%20Death%20Of%20Chaos.txt (8 of 289) [5/22/03 12:51:51 AM]
 file:///F|/rah/L.%20E.%20Modesitt/Modesitt,%20L%20E%20-%20Recluse%2011%20-%20The%20Death%20Of%20Chaos.txt

I had actually been seeing Krystal more than occasionally.
I ran out. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, Order-master, ser... nothing." Weldein drew back in his saddle, brushing his long and
lank blond hair back off his forehead. He did not wear either his cap or battle helm. "Leader
Yelena sent me to fetch you. The subcommander and the autarch want to see you immediately."
"Just a moment." I went back into the shop, cleaned and racked the saws I'd been using, and put
away the clamps. I studied the chairs and the desk in the corner for a moment, then nodded before
heading out to the washroom and the shower. I did take a few moments to shave, both for comfort
and appearance. A little stubble wasn't bad, but more than that just made my face look dirty, and
it itched if I sweated at all.
I dressed in my best, my good browns that were decidedly modest for an audience with the
autarch, and I wondered how Deirdre and Bostric were making out. Memories, and the good browns,
were all I really had of Deirdre, old Destrin's lovely daughter. It wouldn't have worked, but I
did wish her and Bostric the best. Someday, he'd even be a decent woodworker. After changing, I
went out to the stable, saddled Gairloch, and walked him out into the yard.
"You wizards and your ponies, and your bridles that are not bridles," said Weldein, still
waiting patiently.
"We can't spare the time to ride those monsters you use." Besides, Gairloch answered easily to
gentle pressure on the hackamore.