The King’s Buccaneer. Raymond E. Feist
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Название: The King’s Buccaneer

Автор: Raymond E. Feist

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Героическая фантастика

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isbn: 9780007385393

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СКАЧАТЬ a part of Amos that was distant. She knew that he held back, and nothing she could do would force him to give freely. Age had lent her a wisdom many younger women would not have understood. She had not wished to drive Amos off by asking him to choose between his love for her and his love for the sea.

      Amos reluctantly released his hold on her. ‘Well, much as I would love to stay awhile, I have been given a mission by your daughter’s husband.’

      ‘You’re leaving again? But you only just got here.’ There was genuine disappointment in her voice.

      ‘Yes, true. But Nicholas is to go to Martin’s court for a year or two of seasoning, and some stores must be taken to the new garrison at Barran on the northwest coast.’ He looked into her green eyes and said, ‘It’s my last voyage, love. I’ll not be gone long, and then you’ll find how quickly you grow tired of having me underfoot all the time.’

      She shook her head and smiled. ‘Hardly. You’ll find much to keep you busy on my estates. We’ll have lands to tend, tenants to supervise, and I doubt Arutha will let you stay away from court more than a month at a time. He values your insights and opinions.’

      They talked for a while, and then Amos said, ‘We have much to do. I must ensure the ship is ready, and you and Anita will no doubt wish to get about the business of a wedding.’

      They parted and Amos walked away from her apartment, feeling both elation and an unusual desire to keep sailing west once he dropped Nicholas off. He loved Alicia like no other woman he had met in this life, but the prospect of marriage was more than a little frightening to the old bachelor.

      He almost knocked over Ghuda Bulé as he rounded a corner. The grey-haired mercenary backed away, bowing awkwardly. ‘Excuse me, sir.’

      Amos paused. Switching to the Keshian language, he said, ‘No excuse needed …’

      ‘Ghuda Bulé, sir.’

      ‘Ghuda,’ finished Amos. ‘My mind was other places and I wasn’t watching my way.’

      Ghuda’s eyes narrowed and he said, ‘Forgive me, sir, but I think I know you.’

      Amos rubbed his chin. ‘I’ve been to Kesh a time or two.’

      Ghuda smiled an ironic smile. ‘I was a caravan guard, mostly; there’s little of Kesh I haven’t seen.’

      Amos said, ‘Well, it would have been a port, for I’ve never been farther inland in Kesh than I needed to be. Perhaps in Durbin.’

      Ghuda shrugged. ‘Perhaps.’ He glanced around. ‘My companion has vanished, as he does from time to time, so I thought I’d gawk a bit.’ He shook his head. ‘I was in the Empress’s palace in the City of Kesh some years ago, when I traveled with your Prince’s son.’ He glanced at the high vaulted windows that looked out over the landward side of the city. ‘Very different here, yet worth a look.’

      Amos grinned. ‘Well, get your fill of gawking, then. We leave at first light to catch the tide.’

      Ghuda’s eyes narrowed. ‘We leave?’

      Amos’s grin widened. ‘I’m Admiral Trask. Arutha told me you two would be traveling with us.’

      ‘Where are we going?’ asked Ghuda.

      ‘Ha!’ barked Amos. ‘Obviously that strange friend of yours hasn’t told you. You and he are coming with us, to Crydee.’

      Ghuda turned about slowly, talking to himself as much to Amos. ‘Of course he didn’t tell me. He never tells me anything.’

      Amos clapped him on the back in a friendly manner. ‘Well, I’m not sure why, but you’re welcome. You’ll have to share a cabin with the little man, but you seem used to his company. I’ll see you in the courtyard before dawn tomorrow.’

      ‘Of course we’ll be there.’ After Amos left, Ghuda shook his head. In a sour tone he muttered, ‘Why are we going to Crydee, Ghuda? I haven’t the vaguest idea, Ghuda. Shall we go find Nakor, Ghuda? Certainly Ghuda. Then shall we strangle him, Ghuda?’ With a single nod of his head, he answered himself, ‘With great delight, Ghuda.’

      Nicholas hurried along the soldiers’ marshaling yard, where an afternoon drill was under way. He was looking for Harry.

      The young Squire was where Nicholas expected to find him, watching the team from Krondor getting ready for a football match with the visiting team from Ylith. The sport, played by Prince of Krondor rules – codified some twenty years earlier by Arutha – had become the national sport in the Western Realm, and now city champions challenged one another regularly. Years before, an enterprising merchant had erected a field and stands near the palace. Over the years he had improved it and expanded it, until it was now a stadium that could easily accommodate forty thousand spectators. It was expected to be full next Sixthday when the match was played. The visiting Ylithmen, the North Precinct Golds, were playing Krondor’s champions, the Millers and Bakers Association Stonemen.

      Nicholas arrived to see an attack drill, in which five Stonemen descended upon the goalkeeper and three defenders and, with three deft passes, scored a goal. Harry turned and said, ‘I hate to miss the match.’

      Nicholas said, ‘Me too, but think of it: a sea voyage!’

      Harry regarded his friend and saw an excitement in Nicholas he had never seen before. ‘You really want to go, don’t you?’

      ‘Don’t you?’

      Harry shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Crydee sounds like a pretty sleepy place. I wonder what the girls are like.’ He grinned at the last and Nicholas grimaced in return. Nicholas was as shy of girls as Harry was shameless. Still, he enjoyed being around Harry when he flirted with the younger girls in the court and the servants’ daughters, because he thought he might learn something – as long as the Squire wasn’t bullying them, as he had the day before. At times Harry could be charming, but at other times he got too rough for Nicholas’s taste.

      Nicholas said, ‘You may miss getting put in your place by the local girls, but I feel like I’m getting out of a cage.’

      Harry’s usual bantering manner vanished. ‘It’s not that bad?’

      Turning away from the practice, Nicholas walked back toward the palace, Harry falling in at his side. ‘I have always been the youngest, the weakest, the … cripple.’

      Harry’s eyebrows went up. ‘Some cripple. I’ve got more bruises and cuts from sword practice with you than everyone else combined, and I don’t think I’ve touched you more than twice in a year.’

      Nicholas’s crooked smile made him look like his father as he said, ‘You’ve scored a point or two.’

      Harry shrugged. ‘See. I’m not bad, but you’re exceptional. How could you be considered a cripple?’

      ‘Do you have the Festival of Presentation in Ludland?’

      Harry said, ‘No, it’s only for the royal family, right?’

      Nicholas shook his head. ‘No. It used to be that every noble child was presented to the people thirty days after birth, so that all could see the child was born without flaw.

      ‘It СКАЧАТЬ