"Ursula K. LeGuin - The Barrow" - читать интересную книгу автора (Le Guin Ursula K)

Freyga spoke to a boy who lay beside him chin in hand: “Give us a song,
Gilbert.” The boy smiled and sat up, and began at once in a high, sweet
voice:

King Alexander forth he came,
Armored in gold was Alexander,
Golden his greaves and great helmet,
His hauberk all of hammered gold.
Clad in gold came the king,
Christ he called on, crossing himself,
In the hills at evening,
Forward the army of King Alexander
Rode on their horses, a great host,
Down to the plains of Persia To kill and conquer, they followed the
King,
In the hills at evening.

The long chant droned on; Gilbert had begun in the middle and
stopped in the middle, long before the death of Alexander “in the hills at
evening.” It did not matter; they all knew it from beginning to end.

“Why do you have the boy sing of pagan kings?” said the guest.

Freyga raised his head. “Alexander was a great king of Christendom.”

“He was a Greek, a heathen idolator.”
 “No doubt you know the song differently than we do,” Freyga said
politely. “As we sing it, it says, ‘Christ he called on, crossing himself.’”

Some of his men grinned.

“Maybe your servant would sing us a better song,” Freyga added, for
his politeness was genuine. And the priest’s servant, without much urging,
began to sing in a nasal voice a canticle about a saint who lived for twenty
years in his father’s house, unrecognized, fed on scraps. Freyga and his
household listened in fascination. New songs rarely came their way. But the
singer stopped short, interrupted by a strange, shrieking howl from
somewhere outside the room. Freyga leapt to his feet, staring into the
darkness of the hall. Then he saw that his men had not moved, that they sat
silently looking up at him. Again the faint howl came from the room
overhead. The young count sat down. “Finish your song,” he said. The
priest’s servant gabbled out the rest of the song. Silence closed down
upon its ending.

“Wind’s coming up,” a man said softly.

“An evil winter it’s been.”

“Snow to your thighs, coming through the pass from Malafrena
yesterday.”