Archiwum
- Index
- 02 opengl 3.2 szablon aplikacji OpenGL
- Brooks, Terry Word 02 A Knight of the Word
- John DeChancie Castle 02 Castle for Rent
- Jay D. Blakeny The Sword, the Ring, and the Chalice 02 The Ring
- Celmer Michelle Królewskie zwišzki 02 Ksišżę i sekretarka (Goršcy Romans 893)
- Margit Sandemo Cykl Saga o czarnoksiężniku (02) Blask twoich oczu
- 115. Sherryl Woods Bogaci kawalerowie 02 Randka z przeznaczeniem
- Diana Palmer Big Spur,Texas 02 Passion Flower
- Johanna Lindsey Viking Family Tree 02 Hearts Aflame
- Olszakowski_Tomasz_ _Pan_Samochodzik_i_tajemnice_warszawskich_fortow
- zanotowane.pl
- doc.pisz.pl
- pdf.pisz.pl
- epicusfuror.xlx.pl
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
"You can't send Torrie. He's just a boy."
"Mom!"
Maggie laid a hand on Torrie's arm. "Shh, please." She turned to Mom. "He's
not your little boy, not anymore, Mrs. Thorsen."
"You should be more concerned with... cutting your losses, Karin," Minnie
Hansen said. "What do you think that Thorian's father would say if he found
out?"
"He'd insist on going, as well," Karin said, flatly, staring into her coffee
as though she could see something on its oily surface. "He would see it as a
matter of honor. Ian... championed Torrie. It's Thorian's duty to protect his
son. I was able to talk him out of going before, but it wouldn't occur to him
that I had ... other things on my mind than my own safety." She looked up. "We
have to work something out, Minnie, David. I mean "
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No. Mom wouldn't "You mean, Mom, that you thought that Ian and Arnie could be
sent "
"You don't talk to me like that, Thorian Thorsen," she said, a snap in her
voice. "I may not be perfect, but I do the best I can."
Torrie hadn't heard that tone in Mom's voice since the time she'd caught him,
at age six, trying to figure out the combination lock on one of the gun boxes,
and had screamed at him before spanking his butt so long and hard that he
almost shuddered from the memory.
Maggie shook her head. "You need somebody with you," she said. "I'm someone."
She thought about it for a moment. "I'll need access to a typewriter or a
computer and printer." She looked over at Oppe-gaard. "Can you get a letter
postmarked from the East Coast? Safely?"
"Certainly, if necessary." He didn't seem surprised by the request. "Anywhere
in particular?"
"Bangor, Maine. Or anywhere near Mount Katahdin. Torrie and I met up with
another couple coming back from Europe, and decided to spend the rest of the
year walking the Appalachian Trail. We're taking a break from school this
year, but we'll catch up."
Oppegaard shook his head. 'Two letters, if you please. One with whatever lie
you want to try. Another one with the truth. If your parents come looking for
you, they may well end up on my doorstep."
She shook her head. "We should only be gone a few weeks. My guess is that
Ian's just fine, and that this Freya he's so clearly..." She paused for a
moment, searching for polite word. "... so clearly enamored of, that's it,
enamored of she'll send them both back healthy, stuffed with apple pie so that
they can barely walk."
"Then why go at all?" Karin asked. "If it's all so unimportant and safe..."
"If you thought it was all so unimportant and safe, Karin," Maggie said, as
though she were the older, lecturing to the younger, "then you wouldn't have
tried to interfere with Torrie going. And if it isn't so damn safe, then maybe
a helpless-looking girl who just happens to be handier with a sword than
anybody would expect can come in handy. Again."
"But you don't understand. Here, he's just my son. There, he'shis son.
Thorian the Traitor, they call him. There's nobody in the Middle Dominions who
would raise a hand to protect him, and swordsmen of the House of Steel are
famed and feared all over Tir Na Nog."
"As indeed we are," Dad's voice came. His blocky frame seemed to fill the
doorway, and the light behind him cast his face into shadow.
"Much of it, of course," he went on, "is exaggeration; some of it, of course,
is the fact that we're specialists, and very good at what we do." He shook his
head, gently, as he walked over to Mom."Min als-kling," he said, "this is not
the way I do things, as well you know." He took her chin in his hand. "I think
Maggie is probably right, and your fears are largely misplaced, but what if
Maggie and I are wrong?"
Torrie very much didn't like the way Dad said "Maggie and I." He was feeling
more like a spare wheel all the time. Dad and Mom and Maggie had fought and
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killed the Sons of the Wolf themselves; Torrie might be Dad's son, but Maggie
was Dad's comrade-in-arms, the relationship sealed in blood.
"Then," Dad went on, "there's the more important matter of honor. Not only do
we have an obligation to Ian, but to Hosea, as well. He's been my comrade for
more than twenty years now, and where I grew up, we take that seriously."
"As we do here in Hardwood," Minnie Hansen said, never missing a stitch. "As
you know perfectly well."
"No offense was meant, Minnie," he said.
"Well, offense is taken, Thorian Thorsen." She looked up at him. "Winter
comes around every year to remind us of that, I'll have you know. Winter has
always been a cold and dangerous beast on the plains, Thorian. You need to be
able to count on your neighbors to help you fight the beast, not to jockey for
position to avoid being the next one eaten." She looked at Mom, and this time
neither her voice nor her look were gentle. "I think, young lady, that you had
best think about whether or not you wish to live in this small town of ours;
your ways have become far too citified for my tastes." She sniffed pointedly.
"When you start thinking of your friends as a modern convenience, to be
discarded at will, you've long gone past merely not being neighborly."
Mom's face was a mask of self-control. "I have no apologies," she said. She
turned to Dad. "But if you are going to go, I shall go with you."
"No, you shall not," Dad said, in that quiet, level voice, barely more than a
whisper, that he used when he was past the point of arguing. 'Torrie is enough
of a hostage to fortune. I... need to protect his back, and mine, not watch
out for you." If he was angry, it didn't show on his face, or in his voice. "I
think Karin's worried that the return of the Sons is misguided "
"Or a convenient way to keep you here," Maggie said.
" but it is not impossible; I entrust my wife and home to your care, David
Oppegaard," he said, formally.
Oppegaard nodded as he rose. "We'll manage. I'll call Doc and Bob Aarsted.
And Jeff Bjerke," he added, clearly an afterthought.
Dad drew himself up straight, practically clicking his heels as he turned to
face Maggie. "Maggie, you wish to accompany us?"
"Wish?" She shook her head. "Nah. I insist."
"You'd let her go, and not me?" Mom's lips tightened.
"Min alskling,"Dad said, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips for just
a moment, "you are my wife. I honor and respect you, and when we have had a
chance to... put this behind us, I will perhaps again trust you with matters
of honor as I always have and always will in other matters.
"But you are my wife; when Maggie took sword to the Sons, she became my
...svertbror, my comrade-in-arms."
She didn't say anything to that.
Dad clapped his hand to Maggie's shoulder. "Well and good, then; we'll get
you fitted out. A little work on some of Karin's square-dancing shirts, and
you could pass as a goldstitch, and such are much prized in Vandescard." He
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