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."A good answer, Arilyn admitted, but hardly a reassuring one.In all, she was not sorry when the distant clamor of voices and carts announced that they were nearing Marakir.Slipping away from the caravan was an easy matter.In her skirts and veil, with her well-draped travel packs adding a matronly bulk to her frame, Arilyn blended in with the matriarchs and chatelaines who came to purchase supplies for their families or their business establishments.For a while she wandered among the busy stalls, tapping melons and pinching cherries with the best of them.Finally she found the place she sought: Theresa's Fine Woolens, a large wooden stall that offered ready-made clothes.The establishment had a prosperousas well as a prime location right next to the river, but Theresa's reputation for high prices kept away all but the most affluent buyers.Inside the shop, Arilyn found an assortment of serviceable but quite unremarkable garments: woolen cloaks, trews, gowns, and shawls, as well as shirts of linen or linsey-woolsey.The cost of the garments, Theresa insisted, reflected the quality and the service.The casual patron might assume that by "services" she meant the helpful shop clerks who offered advice and refreshments, or the curtained booths, each walled with silvered glass, that enabled the patrons to dress with privacy.What was not commonly known was that the mirrors were actually hidden doors that allowed well-informed patrons to slip out the back.Leaving her cumbersome skirts-as well as a small bag of silver coins-in the changing booth, Arilyn left Theresa's and slid down the steep incline of the river-bank.A small skiff awaited her there, further evidence of the discreet services Theresa offered.The Harper settled into the boat and nodded to the two burly servants who manned the oars.One of them flicked loose the rope that secured the craft to a post driven into the shoreline.Then the men leaned into the oars in well-practiced unison, and the little boat lurched out into the river.Arilyn noted with approval that the oarsmen displayed an admirable lack of curiosity.They spared her hardly a glance, so intent were they on maneuvering through the heavy river traffic.It took all their considerable skill to dodge the many skiffs and flatboats and small, single-sailed boats that thronged the busy waterway.Once they were beyond the crush and turmoil of the marketplace, the men settled in and set a straight, hard-pulling course upriver.The Sulduskoon was Tethyr's largest river, stretching nearly the entire breadth of the country.From its origins in the foothills of the Snowflake Mountains, the river traveled over five hundred miles until finally it spilled into the sea.Not all of the Sulduskoon was easily navigated.There were stretches of shallow, rapid waters, deep pools inhabited by nixies and other troublesome creatures, and treacherous, rock-strewn passages that claimed a toll of nearly three boats out of ten.But here the river was deep and broad, the water relatively calm, and the current not strong enough to impede their progress.Arilyn guessed they would reach the fork in the river-where a second boat awaited her-by nightfall.From there, she would travel up a large tributary that branched northward past the Starspires, close to the part of Tethir that she sought.In the southern parts of the forest lived an old friend.Arilyn's plan rested heavily on his friendship and on his ability to convince his people to come to her assistance.From what she knew of the legendary silver shadows, Arilyn realized this would not be an easy task.Eileenalana bat Ktheelee stirred and grimaced in her sleep as the first arrow struck her.It was a fearsome expression, appearing as it did on the face of a young white dragon, yet the dreams that enveloped her were not entirely unpleasant.The slumbering dragon dreamed of a hail shower and the pleasures of flying high into the churning summer clouds.Hail storms were a rare treat in this land, which was far too hot for a white dragon's comfort, and in her dream Eileen was enjoying the swirling, icy winds and the tingle of formulating hail against her scales.Suddenly a particularly sharp hailstone struck her neck [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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