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

before any of his friends would. The other boys stood around in amusement as
Dirk leaned against the wall behind the barn, sick beyond belief, his head
swimming and his pulse pounding in his temples as his stomach tried to throw
up drink no longer there.
He had somehow managed to find his way back to the loft in which he now
slept. Because he was the youngest boy in the household, he got the worst
pallet, next to the hay door, which meant a draughty, frigid night's rest. He
passed out and risked freezing to death without the other boys' warmth nearby.
Late that night, he stirred as a shout from outside rang through the silent
darkness. Dirk stirred as did the other boys, and Hemmy said, 'What's that?'
Dirk pushed open the hay door. In the moonlight a drunken figure stood
waving a sword with his right hand, while holding a jug of applejack with the
left. He shouted words that the boys couldn't understand, but Hemmy said,
'He's fighting some old battle, for sure.'
Suddenly Alex said, The Tsurani! If Hamish wakes them with all that
shouting, they'll kill him. We've got to get him to shut up.'
'You want to go and try to talk to him while he's waving that sword around,'
said Hemmy, 'you go ahead. I'll take my chances up here. I've seen him drunk
before. Puts him in a dangerous dark temper, it does.'
'We've got to do something,' said Dirk.
'What?' asked Hemmy.
'I don't know,' admitted Dirk,
Then two Tsurani ran into view and stopped when they saw the drunken old
soldier in the moonlight, his breath forming clouds of steam in the frigid
night air.
'You stinkin' bastards!' shouted Hamish. 'You come on and I'll show you how
to use a sword.'
The two Tsurani slowly drew weapons, and one spoke to the other. The second
man nodded and stepped back, putting his sword away. He turned and ran off.
'They're going to get some help,' whispered Dirk, afraid to be overheard by
the Tsurani.
'Maybe they'll just make him put up his sword and go to bed,' said Hemmy.
'Maybe,' echoed Dirk.
Then a half-dozen Tsurani, led by the officer, came into view. The officer
shouted at Hamish, who grinned like a grizzly wolf in the stark white
moonlight. 'Come and sing to me, you sons of dogs!' shouted the drunken old
man.
The Tsurani officer seemed more irritated by the display than anything else,
and said something briefly to the men. He turned and walked off without a
glance back.
'Maybe they're going to let him alone,' said Hemmy.
Suddenly an arrow sped through the darkness and struck old Hamish in the
chest. He looked down in disbelief and sank to his knees. Then he fell off to
the right, still holding his sword and jug of applejack.
'Gods!' whispered Dirk.
The Tsurani turned as one and walked away, leaving the dead bodyguard lying
in the moonlight, a black figure against the white snow.
'What do we do?' whispered Dirk to the older boys.
'Nothing,' said Alex. 'Until the Tsurani tell us to get out tomorrow and
bury him, we do nothing.'