"Thieves World - Beyond The Veil" - читать интересную книгу автора (Morris Janet E)was no womanish whining in her voice; rather, there was a warning tone.
She was as strong as he, perhaps stronger; her stamina was unparalleled. She played at womanhood as she played at life. As a bedmate, he found her suitable; as a companion, she wore upon his nerves. Six months on earth was not nearly long enough to have mellowed her. He squeezed his knees against his mount and muttered, "Hai," to it. It reared up on its hind legs and walked three steps, forelegs flailing, breaking her hold on its reins and causing the second Trфs to back up rapidly. She pouted and put her hands on her hips. His horse came down on all fours again, and by then, she'd thought better of her behavior. "Let us start anew, surrogate husband. I have missed you. Let us hurry to our quarters and reacquaint our bodies with one another." He was not through punishing her for having been taken in by the Nisibisi archmage Datan during the summer war for Wizardwall and turning against him; she was not yet through punishing him for the loss of her betrothed husband, Aљkelon, lord of dreams, to Tempus's own sister, Cime. That they both enjoyed the strife they engaged in, neither would admit—out of bed. But tonight there was something new about Jihan, something he didn't understand—a sense of urgency, a tension in her. "Race me to the barn, Tempus," she called out, and the Trфs she rode lunged homeward. She still had a half-length lead on him when they thundered into Hidden Valley between the sheer rock walls which curved in narrowly to make an easily defensible choke point. One could climb out of the valley other ways; one could not ride out. Bashir, warrior-priest of Free Nisibis, had given the land to Niko and Tempus in gratitude for their assistance in routing the Nisibisi wizards who might war unto the death of both, but Bashir and his Free Nisibis would endure. Sometimes Tempus considered throwing in with the warrior-priest permanently: the Stepsons would settle in gleefully among the free men. As it was, they were half at home here. Nisibisi free men, braided sidelocks confining their long hair, lounged around the paddocks and trained desultorily with his Stepsons, even now as the moon neared its zenith. Two of each sort of commando ambled over to take their horses. It was a measure of the easy atmosphere and mutual respect at the farm that Tempus could leave his animals to others to tend. He slipped to the ground and caught Jihan as she slid off the blowing Trфs, rump to horse in cavalry fashion, lowering her gently to the ground. "Come, now, Jihan," he said, kissing her brow though he hadn't meant to. "What's the matter with you? You're not trying. You could have beaten me by two lengths, perhaps three." And she melted against him as the horses were led away, so that he was very much aware that they stood in public. She said, her words muffled against his leathers: "It occurred to me today, alone and friendless, that I've only six months left with you. Then what, sleepless one, will happen to me?" She raised her head and the red flecks were muted, saddened. "Happen to you? Whatever you choose, I'd dare say. Your father is not one to withhold his blessings." "What if I told you I want to stay? Be with you permanently?" "Permanently, with me, is a very long time. You'd become bored, restless. |
|
|