Time Of Traitors

51

- Boots? Where are you going, honey?

Cres was pulling on his good old, washed-out jacket, from which he had managed to wean himself during his stay in this house. It was carefully darned in those places where Ada had first pierced it, then the bosorka tried with its claws.

The jacket was a bit big.

I'm going to find my woman. I may not be back,” Kres replied, tightening the strap two holes further than usual. - Sorry, grandfather. I lost my boots, but I can’t pay: the money is in the same place as the boots - in a hole with khamers.

Grandfather lay with his head bandaged for the second day, only this morning he woke up and, as if nothing had happened, began to give instructions. He looked doubtfully with his only eye at Kres, who just yesterday was not even able to lift a spoon.

“I don’t care, fool, go where you like,” he waved his hand. “One more mouth out for me.” And I won’t give you boots - I save myself in windings. Boots are an expensive thing, necessary for winter. So far, you'