"Jennifer Roberson - Sword Dancer 1 - Sword Dancer" - читать интересную книгу автора (Roberson Jennifer)

through
the rest of the cantina with eyes as blue as Northern lakes.
Now it so happens I haven't ever seen any Northern lakes, being a
Southroner
myself, but I knew perfectly well those two pools she used for eyes
matched the
tales I'd heard of the natural wonders of the North.
The slipping of the hood bared a headful of thick, long hair yellow as
the sun
and a face pale as snow. Now I haven't seen snow either, being as the
South has
the monopoly on sand, but it was the only way to describe the
complexion of a
woman who was so obviously not a native Southroner. I am, and my skin
is burned
dark as a copper piece. Oh, I suppose once upon a time I might have
been
lighter--must've been, actually, judging by the paler portions of my
anatomy not
exposed to daylight--but my work keeps me outdoors in the sun and the
heat and
the sandstorms, so somewhere along the way my skin got dark and tough
and--in
all the necessary places--callused.
Oddly enough, the stuffiness of the cantina faded. It almost seemed
cooler, more
comfortable. But then it might have had more to do with shock than
anything
else. Gods of valhail, gods of hoolies, but what a breath of fresh air
the woman
was!
What she was doing in this little dragtail cantina I have no idea, but
I didn't
question the benevolent, generous fate that brought her within range. I
simply
blessed it and decided then and there that no matter who it was she was
looking
for, I'd take his place.
I watched in appreciation (sighing just a bit) as she turned to look
over the
room. So did every other male in the place. It isn't often you get to
look on
beauty so fresh and unspoiled, not when you're stuck in a dragtail town
like...
Hoolies, I couldn't even remember its name.
Ruth and Numa watched her too, but their appreciation was tempered by
another
emotion entirely--called jealousy.
Numa tapped me on one side of the face, trying to get my attention. At
first I