"Raymond E. Feist - Wood Boy" - читать интересную книгу автора (Feist Raymond E)

Drogen laughed and Dirk blushed. His infatuation with Lord Paul's daughter
was a well-known source of amusement in the kitchen. Dirk prayed Jenna said
nothing to any of the other boys, for if it became obvious to the boys in the
barn, Dirk's already miserable existence would become even blacker than it
presently was.
'She's a pretty girl,' said Drogen with a smile at Dirk. 'Most men would
look more than once.'
Dirk liked Drogen. He had been just one of Lord Paul's men-at-arms until
Hamish had been killed for disturbing the Tsurani on Midwinter's Night. Since
then he had become a fixture in the main house and Dirk had found several
chances to talk to him. Unlike Hamish, who had been given to bouts of
ill-humour, Drogen was a quiet fellow, saying little unless answering a direct
question. Easy-going, he was reputed to be one of the best men with a sword in
the Free Cities, and he had an open and friendly manner. He was handsome in a
dark fashion, and Dirk had heard gossip that more than one of the serving
women had snuck off with him on a thin pretext, and there were several tavern
girls in the city who waited for his next visit. Dirk thought the man a nice
enough fellow, though Jenna often had acid comments on Drogen's inability to
think of much besides women.
Dirk stood and said, 'I have to get more wood over to the Tsurani.' He left
the warm kitchen and, back out in the cold, wished he hadn't. He hurried to
the woodpile.
Dirk picked up a large pile of wood and moved to the first of the three
buildings. He pushed open the door and found the Tsurani as he always did.
Quietly they rested between patrols or other duties which might take as many
as half the garrison away for days, even weeks at a time. Occasionally they
would return carrying their wounded. When resting they slept in their bunks,
tended their odd, black and orange armour, and talked quietly. Some played
what appeared to be a gambling game of some sort involving sticks and rocks,
and others played what looked to be chess.
Most were off on some mission for their master, leaving less than a dozen in
residence at White Hill. They looked on impassively as he filled the woodbox.
He left and serviced the other two woodboxes. When he was finished, he sighed
audibly in relief. No matter how many times being the Wood Boy forced him to
enter the buildings occupied by the Tsurani, having witnessed their capacity
for ruthless murder brought Dirk to the edge of blind panic when he
encountered them alone. When he knew he had done with them for another night,
he felt as if he was entering a safe place for some hours to come.
Done with his outside chores for the night, he returned to the kitchen and
ate his meagre supper, a watery stew and coarse bread. The very best of the
foodstuffs not taken by the invaders was served to Lord Paul and his daughter.
He had overheard Anika complain about the food, only to hear her father reply
it wasn't too bad, all things considered. Dirk thought by the standards he was
used to, it was a feast. Drogen and the other workers in the house got the
pick of leftovers and there was never anything for a mere Wood Boy.
Dirk returned to the barn and ignored the moaning that came from under a
blanket in the first stall. Mikia and Torren seemed unconcerned their privacy
was non-existent. Still, Dirk reasoned, they were dairy people, a herdsman and
milkmaid, and he found farm people far more earthy and unconcerned with
modesty than townspeople.