"Leo Frankowski - Stargard 2 - High-Tech Knight" - читать интересную книгу автора (Frankowski Leo)

which often numbers a half dozen.

Lambert's custom is the envy of all the noblemen around and he gets away with it because his wife stays
on her family's estates in Hungary. Or perhaps she stays there because of his custom. For my purposes it
was inconsequential. I wanted to go.

As this pleasant obligation must, of necessity, fall to one of us three brothers, they suggested that we
dice for it. I refused, saying that three months was a long time and that the matter ought to be discussed
carefully over several days. My real reason was that, while I was a bachelor, my brothers were both
married. I was sure that once their wives heard about the matter (and I saw to it), I would be given the
task without the risk of the throw.

And so it was that my father informed me that I would go to Okoitz. My mother was in tears as I left,
acting as if I were going off to war, or some less honorable way of finding death. My father and brothers
were cordial and polite with the vague certainty that somehow I had cheated them.

It was an easy day's ride to Okoitz and, since the highwayman, Sir Rheinburg, had been killed, a safe
one. It was Holy Saturday and the Truce of God was in effect, yet prudence and courtesy required that I
be fully armed, covered head to toe with chain mail and astride my warhorse, Witchfire.

But there was no need to be grim, so I took the precaution of carrying a three-gallon sack of wine over
my saddlebow, and had a plentiful supply of bread and cheese in my bags, this being the last day of Lent.

It was a pleasant spring morning and I found myself singing old songs. I aided Witchfire by lessening
the weight of the burdensome wine sack and came to some assistance with regards to the saddlebags, as
well.

Horses like you to sing to them and soon Witchfire was galloping for the sheer joy of a clear springtime
morning. But while crossing a small wooden bridge he threw the shoe from his fight rear hoof.

This was serious, both because of the high cost of steel and because a charger cannot possibly be ridden
unshod without injury. I could not walk to Okoitz and get there by the morrow, and to not get there
would stain my father's name.

I searched the bridge, the stream and its banks for hours without finding the lost shoe. At last I went
down the road, walking in full armor and leading my horse, searching for a blacksmith.

I found a small side trail and followed it to a peasant's hut. The peasant's wife assured me that there was

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a village with a blacksmith two miles up the side trail.

In full armor, I trudged fully four miles to this village, only to find that the blacksmith was away,
visiting his mother for Easter. But the filthy churls informed me that but three miles further on the trail
there was another village and here the smith was sure to be home, as he was the brother of the local
smith and it was their custom to alternate, year by year, visiting their mother on Easter and Christmas.

I walked more than eight miles without finding the next village. Witchfire was limping badly, the wine