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

   Cerryl nodded. Another fact he'd not known.
   "Meridis! What have we for sweets?"
   The serving woman reappeared. "Be you ready for sweets, ser?"
   "Why'd you think I called?" Layel's stern expression dissolved into a
chuckle.
   "Father ... you don't have to put on the stern front for company."
   "Can't even be master in my own dwelling, not even over sweets." The
trader glanced at Cerryl. "You'll see ... leastwise, much as a mage can
that way."
   "Father..."
   "Fellow ought to know." Layel turned to Meridis. "Sweets?"
   "I baked a fresh nut and custard pie."
   "Wonderful! It takes company for me to get my favorite."
   "It does not," suggested Leyladin. "You always tell poor Meridis not
to bother because you'd look like a shoat if she fixed it just for you."
   "You see?" asked Layel. "An answer for everything."
   Cerryl nodded, feeling somewhat overwhelmed by the banter and byplay.
   "Then let's have it."
   The empty dishes vanished into the next room, a kitchen, Cerryl
thought, but he was far from certain about anything, and Meridis returned
with three smaller china plates, each filled with a golden-crusted pie.
   "Try it," urged the trader.
   "It is good," added Leyladin. "Rich, but good."
   Everything felt rich to Cerryl, but he took a small bite and then a
larger one. Before he fully realized it, his plate was empty.
   "See? Your mage friend agrees with me."
   "It was ... I've never tasted a sweet that good," Cerryl confessed.
"In fact, I've never had a dinner so good."
   Layel and Leyladin exchanged glances, and Leyladin added, "I'm so glad
you enjoyed it. The Meal Hall isn't known for good food. Most of the full
mages don't eat there unless they have to for some reason or another."
   "I have noticed that," Cerryl said dryly. "I'm beginning to see why."
He found himself yawning, perhaps because of the fullness in his stomach,
or the warmth of the dining room, or the length of the day. "I'm sorry.
It has been a long day."
   "You have to be at the gates when they open for trade?" asked Layel.
   "Yes. Otherwise they have to hold wagons until a mage arrives. I'd not
want to face Kinowin if I caused that."
   "Neither would I," said Leyladin with a laugh. "Perhaps ... it may be
getting late for you."
   "Don't shoo him out."
   "He has to rise early, Father."
   Cerryl held up a hand. "Your daughter is doubtless correct. I've
enjoyed the meal and the company... but I do have to be up before the
sun."
   Leyladin rose, and Cerryl followed her example, following her back
through the house, lamps still burning in unused rooms, throwing shadows
on polished and glistening floors.
   In the foyer, he eased on his jacket, thinking about the short, but
certainly chill, walk back to his cold room, a room that had seemed so