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

Tsurani commander presented himself, Paul offered something that resembled a
formal salute. Then, with the aid of a man in a black robe, the leader of the
invaders gave his demands. The property of White Hill, as well as the
surrounding countryside, was now under Tsurani rule, specifically an entity
named Minwanabi. Dirk wondered if that was a person or a place, like a Kingdom
Duchy. But he was too frightened to imagine voicing the question.
The leader of this group of Tsurani - all short, tough-looking veteran
soldiers - could be differentiated from his men only by a slightly more ornate
helm, graced with what Dirk took to be some creature's hair. The black fall
reached the officer's shoulders.
Dirk tried to guess what the role of the black-robed man might be; the
officer seemed extremely polite and deferential to him as he translated the
officer's words for him.
The officer was called Chapka, and his rank was Hit Leader or Strike
Leader, Dirk wasn't sure which.
He shouted orders and the black robe said, 'Only the noble of this house may
bear arms, and his personal man.' Dirk took that to mean a bodyguard. That
would be Hamish. 'All others put weapons here.'
The estate guards looked at Lord Paul, who nodded. They stepped forward and
put their weapons in a pile, slowly, and then when they were done, they
stepped back. 'Any other weapons?' asked the man in black.
One of the guards looked at his companions, then came forward and took a
small blade from his boot, throwing it in the pile. He stepped back into line.
The officer shouted an order. A dozen Tsurani soldiers ran forward, each
searching the now unarmed guards. One Tsurani stood, holding up a knife he had
found in a guard's boot, and the officer indicated the man be brought forward.
He spoke rapidly to the man in black, who said, This man disobeyed. He hid a
weapon. He will be punished.'
Lord Paul slowly said, 'What shall you do with him?'
'The sword is too honourable a death for a disobedient slave. He will be
hanged.'
The man turned pale. 'It was just a small one; I forgot I had it!'
The man was struck hard from behind and collapsed. Dirk watched in dread
fascination as two other Tsurani soldiers dragged the guard -a man Dirk hardly
knew, named Jackson - to the entrance to the barn. A hoist hung over the small
door to the hayloft - there was one at each end of the barn - from which a
long rope dangled. The unconscious man had the rope tied around his neck and
was hoisted quickly up. He never regained consciousness, though his body
twitched twice before it went still.
Dirk had seen dead men before; the town of Walinor where he grew up had
known a few raids by bandits and the Brotherhood of the Dark Path, and once he
had stumbled across a drunk who had frozen to death in the gutter outside an
inn. But this hanging made his stomach twist, and he knew it was as much from
fear over his own safety as from any revulsion over Jackson's death.
The black-robed man said, 'Any slave with weapon - we hang.'
Then the officer shouted an order, and Tsurani warriors ran off in all
directions, a half-dozen into the master's house, others into the
outbuildings, and still others to the springhouse, the bam, and the root
cellar. Efficient to a degree that astonished Dirk, the Tsurani returned in
short order and started reporting. Dirk couldn't understand them, but from the