"Alastair Reynolds - The Sledge-maker's Daughter" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reynolds Alastair)

Kathrin tightened her grip on the bags, as if she was going to use them as weapons. She decided not to
say anything, not to openly acknowledge his presence, even though their eyes had met for an electric
instant.

'''Getting to be a big strong girl now, Kathrin Lynch.'''

She carried on walking, each step taking an eternity. How foolish she had been, to take Twenty Arch
Bridge when it would only have cost her another hour to take the further crossing. She should not have
allowed Peter to delay her with his good intentions.

'''You want some help with them bags of yours?'''

Out of the corner of her eye she saw him move out of the doorway, tugging his mud-stained trousers
higher onto his hip. Garret Kinnear was snake thin, all skin and bone, but much stronger than he looked.
He wiped a hand across his sharp beardless chin. He had long black hair, the greasy grey colour of
dishwater.
'''Go away,''' she hissed, hating herself in the same instant.

'''Just making conversation,''' he said.

Kathrin quickened her pace, glancing nervously around. All of a sudden the bridge appeared deserted.
The shops and houses she had yet to pass were all shuttered and silent. There was still a commotion
going on by the dray, but no one there was paying any attention to what was happening further along the
bridge.

'''Leave me alone,''' Kathrin said.

He was walking almost alongside her now, between Kathrin and the road. '''Now what kind of way to
talk is that, Kathrin Lynch? Especially after my offer to help you with them bags. What have you got in
them, anyways?'''

'''Nothing that'''s any business of yours.'''

'''I could be the judge of that.''' Before she could do anything, he'''d snatched the bag from her left hand.
He peered into its dark depths, frowning. '''You came all the way from Jarrow Ferry with this?'''

'''Give me back the bag.'''

She reached for the bag, tried to grab it back, but he held it out of her reach, grinning cruelly.

'''That'''s mine.'''

'''How much would a pig'''s head be worth?'''

'''You tell me. There'''s only one pig around here.'''

They'''d passed the mill next to the Winged Man. There was a gap between the mill and the six-storey
house next to it, where some improbably narrow property must once have existed. Garret turned down
the alley, still carrying Kathrin'''s bag. He reached the parapet at the edge of the bridge and looked over