"David Gemmell - Drenai Saga 01 - Legend" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gemmel David)

afterthought he opened a small cupboard and removed a bottle of port he
had been saving for Nessa's wedding.
'A problem shared is a problem doubled,' he said, squeezing into the
seat opposite Rek.
'A friend in need is a friend to be avoided,' Rek countered, accepting
the proffered bottle and refill-ing his glass. 'I knew a general once,'
he said, staring at the wine, twirling the glass slowly with his long
fingers. 'Never lost a battle. Never won one either.'
'How so?' asked Horeb.
'You know the answer. I've told you before.'
'I have a bad memory. Anyway, I like to listen to you tell stories. How
could he never lose and never win?'
'He surrendered whenever threatened,' said Rek. 'Clever, eh?'
'How come men followed him if he never won?'
'Because he never lost. Neither did they.'
'Would you have followed him?' asked Horeb.
'I don't follow anyone any more. Least of all gen-erals.' Rek turned
his head, listening to the inter-weaving chatter. He closed his eyes,
concentrating. 'Listen to them,' he said, softly. 'Listen to their talk
of glory.'
'They don't know any better, Rek, my friend. They haven't seen it,
tasted it. Crows like a black cloud over a battlefield feasting on dead
men's eyes, foxes jerking at severed tendons, worms . . .'
'Stop it, damn you . . . I don't need reminding. Well, I'm damned if
I'll go. When's Nessa getting married?'
'In three days,' answered Horeb. 'He's a good boy, he'll look after
her. Keeps baking her cakes. She'll be like a tub before long.'
'One way or another,' said Rek, with a wink.
'Indeed yes,' answered Horeb, grinning broadly.
The men sat in their own silence allowing the noise to wash over them,
each drinking and thinking, secure within their circle of two. After a
while Rek leaned forward.
'The first attack will be at Dros Delnoch,' he said. 'Do you know
they've only 10,000 men there?'
'I heard it was less than that. Abalayn's been cut-ting back on the
regulars and concentrating on mil-itia. Still, there're six high walls
and a strong keep. And Delnar's no fool - he was at the battle of
Skein.'
'Really?' said Rek. 'I heard that was one man against ten thousand,
hurling mountains on the foe.'
'The saga of Druss the Legend,' said Horeb, deep-ening his voice. 'The
tale of a giant whose eyes were death, and whose axe was terror. Gather
round, children, and keep from the shadows lest evil lurks as I tell my
tale.'
'You bastard!' said Rek. 'That used to terrify me. You knew him, didn't
you - the Legend, I mean?'
'A long time ago. They say he's dead. If not, he must be over sixty. We
were in three campaigns together, but I only spoke to him twice. I saw
him in action once, though.'
'Was he good?' asked Rek.