"Jeffrey Lord - Blade 28 - Wizard of Rentoro" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lord Jeffery)

weapons scattered all up and down the village street. He wanted to get down there and get himself
clothed, shod, and armed before the villagers recovered and came out to gather up their possessions.
The next village might be miles away and the daylight was beginning to fade.
Blade scrambled down the hill as fast as he dared go. He reached the end of the street before anyone
came out of the houses. He darted from one heap of the villagers' possessions to another, scooping up
whatever looked useful. He found baggy trousers, a woolen vest, a leather tunic, a belt, boots, three pairs
of heavy stockings, a carving knife heavy enough to make a good weapon.
Now he came to a wicker basket and saw it full of loaves of hard gray bread. He scooped several
into the vest and was just straightening up when a woman appeared in the doorway of a but across the
street.
"Heeee-ya!" she shrieked, waving her arms furiously at Blade. Her cry brought heads popping out of
doors and windows all along the street. One man stepped out of a barn, holding a pitchfork. Several
children picked up stones and clods of mud.
Blade wasted no more time in gathering up more equipment. Tucking his heavy bundle under his left
arm, he held his right hand out in front of him, fingers spread.
This peaceful gesture was ignored. "Snake!" the woman screamed. "Dung-eating swine!" shouted
someone else. The man with the pitchfork started toward Blade. Several stones and clods flew at Blade.
One hit him in the shoulder. More men were stepping out of doorways, holding sticks, chair legs, and
lengths of firewood.
Blade realized that his chances of making friends with the villagers were just about nonexistent. His
chances of being killed, on the other hand, were very good and rapidly getting better. It was
embarrassing to have to retreat from a village of half-armed, furious peasants, but it would be a great deal
worse to be pulled down and torn to pieces by them.
Blade took three long steps to the fallen ax and picked it up. He whirled it around his head until it
hissed in the air, and twisted his face into a ferocious glare. The men who'd been edging toward him
stopped. A number of heads popped hastily out of sight and a number of doors slammed. Blade swung
the ax over his shoulder and broke into a run toward the far end of the village. Beyond it he could see the
road winding away into the countryside. He didn't know what lay out there, but he knew that if he went
the other way he'd be following the seven riders. He wanted to see as little as possible of the riders with
the wolf's-head device until he knew a good deal more about them.
Blade plunged down the street and did not look back until he was well out into the countryside.
More of the villagers were back out into the street and faint curses reached Blade's ears. He shrugged,
turned, and ran on.
This time he did not stop running until the village was out of sight behind him. Then he picked out a
pair of trousers and a vest that would fit him, pulled them on, tied the rest of his loot into a more
manageable bundle, and moved on through the twilight that was settling down over the land.
 Chapter 4
«^»
It was nearly dark before Blade found any sort of dry shelter. It was a woodcutter's hut, obviously
abandoned for years but still almost intact. It was closer to the road than Blade would have liked, but
he'd heard no signs of pursuit.
The boots he'd snatched up turned out to be three or four sizes too small. If he tried to walk a mile in
them he'd be crippled for a week with blisters. He threw the boots into a corner and tried on the rest of
the clothing. Some of it actually fitted, after he'd ripped a few seams here and there. This was a problem
he was used to facing in Dimension X. Even in Home Dimension his massive frame—six feet one, two
hundred and ten well-muscled pounds—was hard to clothe. In Dimension X, where people were often
smaller, it was sometimes impossible.
Blade pulled on all three pairs of stockings and swept dead leaves into a rough bed. Then he lay
back on the leaves and munched a loaf of bread while he considered what he'd seen.
The more he thought about it, the stranger it seemed. The seven riders were obviously highly trained,