Читать «Rising Tide (зксм-1)» онлайн - страница 192

The bedroll and pack that contained all of Jherek's possession was neatly packed and sitting in the corner of the courtyard. The priest's eyes flickered over them, and he sat in one of the chairs. He was a small man with skin the color of buttered rum. Only in his thirties, he kept his head shaved. His quick, dark hazel eyes surveyed Jherek.

"You've had morningfeast?" the priest asked.

"Aye."

"And your appetite, how was it?"

"Good," Jherek answered.

"You have to eat to keep your strength up."

"I know, Fostyr, and thank you for being so attentive."

"I worry about you, my friend. Kythel told me you were working in the gardens yesterday, and you washed your own clothes when we could have seen to it."

"I feel I have to earn my keep," Jherek said. "I'm not a man to sit idly by."

"Still, you have been wounded and should rest. You're here at the temple as our guest."

Jherek curbed his impatience. It wasn't the priest's fault that he hated lying fallow. Ilmater forbid that he should ever become a burden on anyone.

"Aye, I know that, and I thank you for your hospitality."

"But you will not simply accept that hospitality?"

Jherek shook his head. "I can't."

Surprisingly, Fostyr only smiled and said, "Such responsibility in one so young."

"Not so responsible," Jherek disagreed. "Otherwise I'd have never gotten into that fight in the tavern. That wasn't the course of a responsible man."

"According to my friend who brought you here you fought for a lady's honor."

"Aye, I suppose I did."

"Another responsible act."

"I'm not so sure," Jherek said. "What Aysel said were only words. I could have walked away."

"But where do I draw the line?" Fostyr mused. "That is your question isn't it?"

"Not mine," Jherek replied.

Fostyr nodded, then took another tack. "I saw you at the service this morning," the priest said.

"Aye."

"What drew you there?"

Jherek shifted positions gingerly, mindful of the aches and bruises he'd received. "I wanted to pay my respects to Lathander. You could have turned me away when I was brought here bleeding, covered in ale-reeking sawdust."

"Do you know of our religion?" the priest asked.

"Some," Jherek admitted. "I'm a follower of Ilmater."

"He is a good god to study, but Lathander might have something to offer as well. Lathander is the god of spring and the dawn, of birth and renewal, of beginnings. I've heard the nightmares that plague you, my friend, when you were in the grip of the fever that took you the first two nights you were here."

The priest hadn't mentioned that to Jherek before, and his face burned hotly. "What did I say?" he asked.

"You mean did you mention that you're the son of Falkane, one of the most feared pirates along this coast? Yes, you did."

Jherek shook his head in wonderment. "There's a price on the head of any man who sailed with Falkane," he told the priest. "You could have turned me in."

"No, I couldn't have," Fostyr said. "I prayed for you, that you might find peace and happiness, and that the fear in your life will depart."

Jherek didn't mean to sound harsh, but his voice was tight. "You've seen the tattoo on my arm?"