"Brian Jacques - Redwall 04 - Mariel Of Redwall" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jacques Brian)

Old stories told by travelers, Great songs that bards have sung, Of Mossflower
summers, faded, gone, When Redwall's stones were young. Great Hall fires on
winter nights, The legends, who remembers, Battles, banquets, comrades,
quests, Recalled midst glowing embers. Draw close now, little woodlander, Take
this to sleep with you, My tale of dusty far-off times, When warrior hearts
were true. Then store it in your memory, And be the sage who says To young
ones in the years to come: "Ah yes, those were the days."

BOOK ONE

The Maid from the Sea

Abbot Bernard folded his paws deep into the wide sleeves of his garb.

From a viewpoint on the threshold of Redwall Abbey's west ramparts he watched
the hot midsummer day drawing to a glorious close. Late evening light mellowed
the red sandstone Abbey walls, turning them to dusty scarlet; across the
flatlands, cloud layers striped the horizon in long billows of purple, amber,
rose and cerise. Bernard turned to his friend Simeon, the blind herbalist.

"The sun is sinking, like the tip of a sugar plum dipping into honey. A
perfect summer evening, eh, Simeon?"

The two mice stood silent awhile before Simeon turned his sightless face
toward the Abbot.

"Father Abbot, how is it that you see so much yet feel so little? Do you not
know there is a mighty storm coming tonight?"

The Abbot shook his head, disbelieving, yet unwilling to deny Simeon's
unerring instinct. "A storm? Surely not!"

Simeon chided Abbot Bernard gently. "Perhaps you have other things on your
mind, my friend. Maybe you have not felt the cooling breezes die away. The air
has

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become still and hot, the birds stopped their evensong much earlier than
usual, even the grasshoppers and the buzzing bees have ceased what little
noise they make. Listen!"

The Abbot cocked his head on one side, perplexed. "I hear nothing."

Simeon chuckled dryly. "That is because you are hearing the sound of silence,
Bernard. One thing I have learned in my life is to listen to the sounds of
Mossflower country. Every sound carries information; so does every silence.
This is going to be a mighty storm, one that we have not seen the like of in
many a long season."