"Gordon R. Dickson - Dragon Knight 03 - The Dragon on the Border" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dickson Gordon R)

excuse served, as long as the word “magic” was uttered in connection with it. Accordingly, he now chose
a portion of empty stone floor; and from his gear unrolled the mattresslike quilt that Angie had made for
him.

As traveling knights with only themselves and their horses, they did not carry much in the way of
possessions. Consequently, there was not much dressing to be done for dinner. Effectively, they took off
their armor; and Jim, after persuading Giles to get him some water, used some homemade soap he had
brought along and washed his hands and face.

This also he had explained as a necessary magic ritual; and Brian, with Dafydd, had accepted it.
Nonetheless, they waited a little impatiently until he was done. He wiped his face with his hands, shook
what water remained off his hands, and- leaving these parts of him to air-dry-he went with the others
back downstairs to the table, the refilled wine jugs and the waiting cups.

Giles joined them there immediately. They sat talking and drinking; and while they did, one by one,
Giles’s brothers came home.

It was plain they had already been warned of the fact that there were guests at the high table whom their
father did not wish disturbed, so none of them had been seen. But they had most certainly been heard,
since their individual returns. Like their father and Giles, they had bass voices. But they did not rumble so
much as roar. They could be heard shouting to each other all over the castle.
Finally, with surprising hesitation and bashfulness, one by one, and clearly in planned order, they came to
be introduced to the three famous guests.

The first to come, of course, was Alan, the oldest of the family. He-as his brothers were to prove to be
also-was cast in the same heroic mold as Herrac. Like Herrac and Giles, they all had the seal-black eyes,
large, hooked noses and flaxen hair. None, however, had a nose as large as Giles. Nor were any of
them-even Alan-as big, as tall, or as wide-shouldered as their father. But they were all considerably
larger than Jim, or even Dafydd; and, like their father, heavily muscled. It was a little, thought Jim, as if
he, Brian and Dafydd had been invited to the home of some giants.

However, the giants, particularly these younger ones, were clearly overawed at meeting face to face
people of whom they had heard in a ballad. They came up, were introduced, and took their seats at the
table. Alan took his as if by right, and then one by one gave the others permission to sit as they appeared.
Besides Alan, there was the next oldest brother, who was Hector; then the next youngest after Giles-who
was William- and finally, the youngest, sixteen-year-old Christopher. They all spoke in as low voices as it
seemed possible for them to speak.

Clearly, Herrac de Mer ran a taut household.

As the wine disappeared down their capacious throats, however, they became bolder; and the three
guests were plied with all sorts of questions about knighthood, weapons, armor, people in France,
dragons, and just about everything else that the sons’ minds could conceive of, and that could legitimately
be asked without being considered an uncivil question.

This continued until they all at once fell silent. Looking up, Jim saw the reason for it. Sir Herrac himself
had entered the Great Hall from the kitchen and was coming to take his seat at the table.

He did so. For a moment his black eyes frowned at his five noisy sons, who looked guiltily down at the
tabletop.