"David Gemmell - Wolf in Shadow" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gemmel David)

will not be forced.'The rider sat very still, then he removed his hat. His
hair was shoulder-length and black, streaked with silver, and his beard showed
a white fork at the chin.

'I am a stranger, Lady, and I do not know this Fletcher. I do not seek
to harm you - I merely smelt the bacon and would trade for a little. I have
Barta coin and . . .’Leave us alone,' she shouted. The crossbow slipped in her
grip, dropping the trigger bar against her palm. The bolt flashed into the
air, sailing over the rider and dropping by the paddock fence. Shannow walked
his horse to the paddock and dismounted, retrieving the bolt. Leaving the
gelding, he strolled back to the house.

Donna dropped the bow and pulled Eric into her side. The boy was
trembling, but in his hand he held a long kitchen knife; she took it from him
and waited as the man approached. As he walked he removed his heavy leather
top-coat and draped it over his arm. It was then that she saw the heavy
pistols at his side.

'Don't kill my boy,' she said.

'Happily, Lady, I was speaking the truth: I mean you no harm. Will you
trade a little bacon?' He picked up the bow and swiftly notched it, slipping
the bolt into the gulley. 'Would you feel happier carrying this around?’You
are truly not with the Committee?’I am a stranger.’We are about to take food.
If you wish, you may join us.'Shannow knelt before the boy. 'May I enter?' he
asked.

'Could I stop you?' returned the boy bitterly.

'With just one word.’Truly?’My faults are many, but I do not lie.’You
can come in then,' said the boy and Shannow walked ahead with the child
trailing behind. He mounted the porch steps and entered the cool room beyond,
which was spacious and well-constructed. A white stone hearth held a
wood-stove and an iron oven; at the centre of the room was a handsomely carved
table and a wooden dresser bearing earthenware plates and pottery mugs.

'My father carved the table,' said the boy. 'He is a skilled carpenter -
the best in Rivervale - and his work is much sought after. He made the comfort
chair, too, and cured the hides.' Shannow made a show of admiring the leather
chair by the wood-stove, but his eyes followed the movements of the petite
blonde woman as she prepared the table.

Thank you for allowing me into your home,' said Shannow gravely. She
smiled for the first time and wiped her hand on her canvas apron.

'I am Donna Taybard,' she told him, offering her hand. He took it and
kissed her fingers lightly.

'And I am Jon Shannow - a wanderer, Lady, in a strange land.’Be welcome
then, Jon Shannow. We have some potatoes and mint to go with the bacon, and