"Recluce - 09 - Colors Of Chaos" - читать интересную книгу автора (Modesitt L E)

tasted and far, far better.
   "Ah ... better than I remembered," said Layel.
   "It is good." Leyladin lifted the porcelain platter that held the
still-steaming dark bread and offered it to her father. Layel broke off a
chunk, and the blonde offered the platter to Cerryl.
   Cerryl took a chunk of the warm bread and glanced toward the older
factor.
   Layel smiled, as if waiting for Cerryl to speak.
   "All of this ... it's different from the Halls," Cerryl said slowly.
"We don't see that much outside ... I haven't anyway, even before I came
to Fairhaven." He paused. "There's so much I've read about, but...
Leyladin has told me you're a trader, and I don't know much about
trading. What do you trade in?"
   "Anything that sells, young mage. Anything that sells. You trade in
grain, and if the harvest is bad, you lose everything. You trade in
copper, and when someone opens or closes a mine, you lose. I trade in
what I can buy cheap and sell dear." Layel refilled the crystal goblet
before him and then Leyladin's. He glanced at Cerryl's goblet, still
three-quarters full. "You haven't drunk much."
   "With me, a little wine goes a long way, but it's very good. Very
good."
   "Father is not telling you everything. He hoards goods," Leyladin
interjected with a smile, passing the pitcher with the orange glaze in
it. "He buys them cheaply this season and sells them dearly the next. He
has two large warehouses here and one in Lydiar."
   "You'll be giving away all my secrets, Daughter."
   "Just the two of you here?" Cerryl asked.
   "Now. My brother Wertel has a house in Lydiar. He runs the business
for Father there, and my sisters live with their consorts here in
Fairhaven. I'm the youngest." Leyladin grinned. "And the most trouble."
   "How could you say that, Daughter?" Layel shook his head in mock
discouragement. "Trouble? You never brought in every stray dog in
Fairhaven to heal it? You never had your head nearly split open because
you would heal the fractious carriage horse? You never-"
   "Father.. ."
   "No ... you couldn't find a nice fellow and give me grandchildren."
The factor turned to Cerryl. "She had to become a healer. She was trying
to heal everything-the dogs, the warehouse cat that got kicked by the
mule, the watchman's daughter ..."
   Leyladin's face clouded ever so slightly at the last, but the
expression passed so quickly Cerryl wasn't sure he'd seen it.
   "Healers are far more scarce than White mages," Cerryl said brightly,
taking a small mouthful of the beans and nuts with the fork that felt
unfamiliar, copying Leyladin's usage. They were so tender he barely had
to chew them, and they hadn't been cooked into mush in a stew pot.
   "Would that it were like trade, where what is scarce is dear," mumbled
Layel.
   "Father ... finish eating ..." Leyladin grinned.
   "Always on me, you and your mother. Best to enjoy good food."
   "Talking with his mouth full is about his only bad habit," Leyladin