"Jo Walton - The Rebirth of Pan" - читать интересную книгу автора (Walton Jo)

"Well that reminded me of them, the boat they're building for then. Never mind now, the important
thing is that they have a warehouse on the beach, down near their workshop. A large one, which they use
for storage, mostly for seasoning wood. It was more than half empty last time I was in it. That is a
warehouse on the shore which does not stink of fish, which anyone might have a reason to visit, away
from prying eyes and yet near to wherever the things might be needed."
 "It will still make it easier for Pappa Thomas to work out what is going on, and maybe try to stop
it." frowned Pappa Andros. "But you are right, that is a very good suggestion, and one which will go
down well among those who are squabbling to have their plan adopted, because it is nobody's plan but
yours. Well done. I will go down there now myself and speak to Evadni and Manoli about it." The priest
got to his feet decisively.

"Good, very good," said Dafni. "And if we should find out that after all they will be needed away in
Stavros, my youngest, Taxeia, seems to be courting a boy from that village, and maybe his mother will
know where they can be kept."

"That is good news, my best wishes to them both," said Pappa Andros.

"Oh, I still have hopes she will see sense," said Dafni, grimly, pushing back her grey coils of hair as
she followed him out into the sunshine.

The shingle of the shore slipped under Pappa Andros' sandals as he walked out to the boatbuilders'
workshop. He did not often have reason to come down on the beach. The sea sparkled, blue and ruffled
in the little breeze. There were tourists sunbathing and swimming, and a single red-sailed yacht anchored
far out in the bay. Pappa Andros stepped over the wooden runners that led from the workshop to the
water's edge. He noticed several fishing boats, keel-up in the stones, waiting for repairs of different sorts.
A well-muscled fair haired man he did not recognise was applying a double fold of fibre-glass to one of
them. He was stripped to the waist and wearing cut off jeans and leather sandals. He must be someone
the boatbuilders had hired to help in their busy time, Pappa Andros thought, approving how neatly he
worked.

At the side of the workshop, on a kind of wooden scaffold, stood the skeleton of a wooden sailing
ship. Evadni was perched up on a cross-beam intently working on it, specialised tools which the priest
did not recognise in her hands and hung about her. As he approached, Manoli came out of the
workshop, holding up a small can in his hands.

"I've found it!" he called up to his sister. Then he saw Pappa Andros and came forward, smiling a
puzzled welcome.

"What brings you here, Pappa?" he asked.

"Excuse me if I don't get down!" called Evadni from her perch. "But I can't until this is done."

"I wanted to ask you both a favour," said Pappa Andros. "But there is no hurry. What are you
doing?"

"Ah, I thought you'd come to see the ship that saved Christendom from the Turk," laughed Evadni.
"That's what we're doing. We're building one of the galleases for the Lepanto re-enactment this summer.
We're to build another when this one is done."