"David Gemmell - Morningstar" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gemmel David)

'Yes,' I answered. I heard Jarek curse softly, and watched with relief as he
slipped the dagger back into its sheath.

The door opened and she stepped inside. Her blonde hair was brushed back now and
braided, and she wore a flared skirt and a pretty blouse of blue wool and linen. 'Oh!'
she whispered. 'I didn't realize you had some. . .' Then she recognized him. 'It is you!
Oh, Jarek!' she cried, running forward to embrace him.

‘That's the kind of welcome I like,' he said, mystified.

'You rescued me … and I thought you didn't care. You were so fearless. My father
has put aside five gold pieces for you as a reward - if that is all right? I would not
wish you to feel insulted.’ Insulted? Not at all. It would hardly be civil to refuse. Is
he awake?’ No. I am always the first to rise. I milk the cows. I just wanted to . . .
thank the bard.’ Of course you did,' he said smoothly. 'And your father awakes at. . . ?'

'It will be several hours yet. But sit down with your friend and I shall bring you
an early breakfast. Cold meat and cheese, with some fruit? And of course a jug of the
best ale.’ Very kind,' he told her, bowing once more. She curtseyed and backed out of the
room.

'My silver and gold, if you please?’What?’There are six silver pieces,' I
explained, 'and two gold coins. If you wish to keep them, you can. But I shall tell the
girl's father of the attempted robbery - and of the fact that your rescue was merely an
accident as you tried to escape the Watch. On the other hand, return to me my coins and
you will be the richer by a breakfast and five gold pieces.'He chuckled then and tossed
my money on the bed. 'I like you,' he said. 'I may kill you one day, but I like you.'I
have known many men of violence in my long life - cruel men, brave men, evil men, noble
men. Never have I met any who matched the complex amorality of the Morningstar. That
first meeting remains etched in my mind. I can still see the dawn light seeping into the
night sky, and my guest kneeling before the embers of the fire expertly blowing the dying
coals to life and adding fuel. I can taste the dark bread that Petra brought, fresh and
warm from the tavern bakery.

Why that meeting should remain so clear, while other, greater events are lost in
the misty recesses of memory, is a mystery to me. We sat and talked like old friends,
discussing the weather and the state of the war. He had been a soldier in the army of the
King, but had despaired of the generals and their stupidity. After one defeat too many he
had deserted. I am not now - nor ever was - a lover of wars. I see no need for them. And
this one was more foolish than most.

These northern lands had been conquered by the Angostins more than two hundred
years before, and all the nobility were now of their race. It was a complicated issue,
but let me explain swiftly. This large island of ours had once been split in two, the
lush south ruled by the Ikenas and the barren, mountainous north by Highland tribes,
mostly of Pictish and Belgaic origin. Then the

Angostins crossed the narrow sea and conquered the Ikenas. This third force was led
by Villein, the Battle King, an Angostin prince of great strategic skill. He crushed his
enemies without pity and crowned himself King of Ikena. His descendants attacked the