"E. C. Tubb - Dumarest - Child of Earth" - читать интересную книгу автора (Tubb E. C)

frightened, little sucking noises coming from her lips. Her man was dead, who would provide? The boy
was better than nothing, a decision that dropped her hand from the knife tucked into her rags but
Dumarest noticed the gesture and was cautious as she washed blood from his nose and mouth.

“He hurt you.” The woman was at his side judging the right time to establish her authority. “He was
drunk, mad, crazed and dangerous. I was afraid of him. That's why I couldn't help you last night.”

Snorting he cleared his nose of clotted blood.

“I tried to stop him this morning,” she continued. “He pushed me aside. You didn't see that, you were
out of the cave by then. The bastard hurt me.” She winced as she pressed a hand to her side.

“He was always hurting me. I'm glad he's dead. Your nose hurt?

“No.”

“It will.” She lifted her hands towards him. “Unless you let me fix it you'll have trouble later on. It will
block your breathing.”

Dumarest said, “Give me your knife.”

“Knife? Knife? What the hell are you talking about?”

“The knife,” he said again. “The one in your skirt. I just want to see it.” Then, as she continued to shake
her head, he added. “I might be able to make one like it. It will be useful when hunting. I'll be able to get
us more food.”

“You'll hunt for me?” Dirt cracked in the creases of her face as she smiled. “You're a good boy, Earl.
I've always thought of you as my own. Stick with me and I'll look after you. Stand by me and you won't
regret it.”

“The knife?” He held out his hand. “I'll look at it while you fix my nose.”

It was crude, a strip of pointed and edged metal with slats of wood to form a grip, the whole held
together with lashings of twine. He turned it as her fingers pressed at his nose, pushing cartilage back into
place, roughly shaping the damaged tissue.

“There!” She stepped back dropping her hands. “You finished with my knife?”

“I'm keeping it.”

“Keeping it?” Her voice rose in a shriek of protest. “Stealing it, you mean. First you kill my man then you
rob me. Why stop there? Why not kill me too? Go ahead, you young swine. Kill me. Kill me, I dare
you!” Her face changed as he lifted the blade. “No! No, I didn't mean that!”

“How do you sharpen it? With a stone or a file? If you have a file I want that too.”

“A stone,” she said bitterly. “I haven't a file. Not now. He sold it for a bottle.” She watched as he moved
about the cave. “What are you doing now? Robbing me some more?”