"Jeffrey Lord - Blade 01 - The Bronze Axe" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lord Jeffery)

Blade knew his own weaknesses all too well—temper and stubbornness. Plus a curiosity that would
have slain a thousand cats.
They were climbing now, up a gradual slope, until at last they stood atop a long ridge. Below them
the fens stretched in flat monotony to a sea that was mirror calm, reflecting the first rays of the sun. Inland
the mists still shrouded the fens, and Blade noted that the intricate network of paths approaching Sarum
Vil were all carefully marked by poles bearing tattered bits of cloth. The town, he saw at once, was well
situated for defense.
"Something is amiss," said Taleen. She was frowning. She pointed down to the town. "Such hubbub
is not usual so early in the morning. My cousin is a lazy man and usually sleeps as late as Alwyth will
permit. You see, Blade? All those armed men!"
He was carefully studying the little town and the surrounding terrain. It was a fortified place, carefully
laid out in rectangle and surrounded by a high wall of earth surmounted by a stockade of sharpened logs.
Before the earthen ramparts, on all sides, was a deep ditch some twenty feet across. There was a high
tower at each corner of the stockade, but unbastioned, and he judged that the Albs had not yet learned
that trick of defense. He could see but one gate in the stockade, facing them, and it was open now.
Through it, converging from the web of fen paths, poured a steady stream of armed men. Arms and
armor glinted in the sun. A few of the warriors were on horseback, followed by a retinue on foot, but
most of them were walking, in groups or alone, armed with sword, spear and shield, and wearing round
metal caps that sparked in the sun.
Because of their elevation they could see well into the town, beyond the walls to a large central
square where there was a great flurry of excited movement. More armed men were moiling about a huge
bonfire, eating and drinking, while the drivers of war chariots dashed madly to and fro in the throng. Now
and again a man was knocked down by the horses and there was a great outcry of cursing that could be
heard by Blade and Taleen. He smiled to himself. Discipline was evidently not an Albian virtue.
Taleen pointed suddenly. "There! There is my cousin, Lycanto. Just to the right of the fire. You see?
Now he is drinking from his horn. He does not look happy, my cousin." She laughed shortly. "That I can
understand. Lycanto is a miser, as well as a lecher, and all these warriors will be eating him out of house
and home. But there must be trouble, a war, else he would not have called them together. Trust Lycanto
not to share his provisions lest he is driven to it!"
At that moment Blade heard a jangle of weapons on the path behind them. He spun about, his sword
alert. He and the Princess had been so intent on watching Sarum Vil that neither heard the warriors
approaching.
Taleen seized his sword hand and forced the point down. "No danger here, Blade. It is only Cunobar
the Gray, Lycanto's chief man. A Captain. I know him, though I doubt he will know me. It has been
many years since last we met. Stand back, Blade, and keep you quiet. I will handle this."
The man she had named Cunobar the Gray was leading a band of eight warriors. At sight of Taleen
and Blade they halted and whispered among themselves for a moment, then Cunobar came forward. He
was a tall man, narrow shouldered, and Blade guessed he was not as old as he looked. The silver gray of
his hair and thick beard was premature. He wore a pointed bronze helmet bearing the design of a hawk
in flight. The same design was worked into the boss of his heavy shield. He had drawn his sword, but
lowered the point as he approached them. There was pride in his walk, and poise and confidence, and a
lack of swagger.
Cunobar the Gray paid no attention to Blade. He fell to one knee before the Princess Taleen, jabbed
the point of his sword into the earth, and doffed his helmet. His voice was deep and melodious, vibrant as
a skald's harp. His eyes, above the heavy brush of gray beard, wear a curious dish brown and missed
nothing of Blade without deigning to see him.
"It has been many years, my princess. Too many. I remember you as beautiful, but my memory is a
traitor. How beautiful I did not know until this moment."
Taleen was greatly pleased. She shot a look of smug triumph at Blade, who discreetly stared at the
ground and watched Cunobar from the corner of an eye.