"Chelsea Quinn Yarbro - Olivia 2 - Crusader's Torch" - читать интересную книгу автора (Yarbro Chelsea Quinn)

"Oh, Niklos, Niklos; old friend." She turned away from him, her gaze directed at a
point some distance beyond the shuttered window. "If that were all there was to fear.
If the only worry would be the venality of Christian knights, there would be no
reason to leave Tyre. But that is the least of it, and you know it as well as I."
"It is enough," said Niklos, coming and laying his strong, square hands on her
shoulders before he turned her toward him. "How are we to manage?"
"As we have in the past, I trust." She said it distantly, her attention divided
between him and some unknown factor, a sound or a memory or a nameless
impression. "The trouble is," she went on as she studied the bondsman's collar around
his neck, "I don't like the necessity of separation any more than you do. With you I
am safe, I have no secrets. Among strangers, well,"—she shrugged without
dislodging his hands—"there can be difficulties. There have been before."
"You will take slaves with you, at least," he said, his desperation giving his words
the force of a command.
 "If I am permitted more than a body-slave, yes, at least as far as Greek territories.
The Hospitalers and Templars do not permit extensive retinues." Olivia leaned her
head against his shoulder. "I would rather travel with you. You know that. But I need
you to arrange… everything. I rely on you to find me a place to live, one that is
secure and where I will have to answer as few questions as possible. With Crusading
fervor rising again, there are always greater risks. You've said yourself that if I
remain here, eventually suspicion will develop, either among the Christians or the
Islamites, and that would not bode well. I need to find a haven where the zeal of my
neighbors is not a threat." She smiled faintly. "At least in Roma you will not need to
import earth for me."
"Roman that you are," he said, his sternness giving way to affection.
"There was a time it was an honorable thing to be," she said, the words wistful.
"And now?" He held her off. "Never mind. We both know what has become of
Roma."
"Yes," she agreed, and moved away from him. "That is why I am depending on
you to act for me. I don't want to have to repeat what we endured when we came here
from Alexandria. By comparison, leaving Constantinople was a simple… swim."
Somewhere on the floor below, a shutter banged once, twice, and there were
muffled shouts as the household slaves rushed to close it once more.
"It's taken care of," Niklos said when the voices beneath them quietened.
"They're frightened. They know that there is danger. I hear them speak of Saladin,
and they say he will not be content with Jerusalem." Olivia stared around her
apartment, looking at the two crucifixes on the wall. "I hate having to stay here,
especially now, to keep to three rooms on the second floor because I am a widow and
I must not be seen abroad except to go to church."
"Will Roma be better?" Niklos asked, not quite concealing the cynicism he felt.
"It is where I was born," she replied obliquely. "If I have to remain here, waiting,
until either the Crusaders come and butcher us all, or the Islamites come and butcher
us all, I will go mad. I feel here I am walled up in a tomb." Her voice grew hushed
and she caught her lower lip between her teeth. "I had help then, in Roma. But he is
far away and I cannot wait for his rescue now."
As gently as he was able Niklos asked, "Do you think he will return?"
She smiled, her face world-weary. "What you are asking, Niklos, is do I think that
he is dead, truly dead?" She shook her head. "No. I would know. There is a bond
between us, and if it were broken, I would know."
 Niklos kept his thoughts to himself, his eyes directed toward the very old Persian