"Brian Jacques - Redwall 05 - Salamandastron" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jacques Brian)

The dormouse was a jolly plump old fellow, clad in a rust-colored jerkin, his
white beard curled and trimmed neatly. An infant mole, who could not sleep
because of the onset of spring, sat beside him on a mossy beechlog in the
orchard. Together they shared an early breakfast of oatcakes, hot from the
kitchens, and two of last autumn's russet apples. Dawn was touching the earth
with its rosy paws, promising sunny spring days as a compensation for the long
winter Redwall Abbey had endured. Soft white clouds with golden underbellies
hung on the still air, dewdrops glistened on new green grass, budding
narcissus and snowdrop awaited the coming of the sun-warmed day.

The dormouse nodded sagely. "Soon be pickin' a Nameday for this good season,
aye, soon."

The small mole chewed slowly at his oatcake, wrinkling a black button snout as
he gazed up at the elder.

"You'm said you'm tell oi a story, zurr."

The dormouse polished an apple on his jerkin. "D'you like my stories, Burrem?"

The little fellow smiled. "Burr aye, oi serpintly do, zurr!"

His friend settled down comfortably on the grass, propping his back against
the log.

1

2 Brian Jacques

"Right then, it's a good long one. We'll have to break off for lunch and tea,
supper, too, maybe. Ah well, here goes. Once upon a time ..."

Colder than the winter wind howling its dirge through the Southwest Forest.

Colder than the snow blanketing tree, rock and earth in its silent shroud.

Colder than ice that lay on water and hung in shards from branches and bushes.

Colder than these was the smile of Ferahgo the Assassin! Ferahgo was still
young, but as the seasons passed his evil and infamy would grow, and
everybeast would come to fear the name of the blue-eyed weasel.

His .band searched the wrecked badgers' den, scavenging and snarling over
winter food and the few pitiful possessions strewn among the debris. Smiling
pitilessly, Ferahgo stepped over the bodies of the slain badger Urthound and
his wife Urthrun, the last two brave creatures to stand against him. Stealth
and deceit, reinforced by a crew of backstabbers, were the Assassin's
trademark. He had tricked the badgers into thinking this would be a peace
conference. Fools!