"Alastair Reynolds - The Sledge-maker's Daughter" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reynolds Alastair)

'''Aye,''' Kathrin answered, hoping the wheelwright'''s wife wouldn'''t push her on the point.

'''Of course he will still be busy,''' Peter said, helping himself to some of the bread. '''People don'''t stop
needing sledges, just because the Great Winter loosens its hold on us. Any more than they stopped
needing wheels when the winter was at its coldest. It'''s still cold for half the year!'''

Kathrin opened her mouth to speak. She meant to tell Peter that he could pass the message onto her
father directly, for he was working not five minutes walk from the wheelwright'''s shop. Peter clearly had
no knowledge that her father had left the village, leaving his workshop empty during these warming
months. But she realised that her father would be ashamed if the wheelwright were to learn of his present
trade. It was best that nothing be said.

'''Kathrin?''' Peter asked.

'''I should be getting on. Thank you for the food, and the offer of the wood.'''

'''You pass our regards on to your father,''' Mary said.

'''I shall.'''

'''God go with you. Watch out for the jangling men.'''

'''I will,''' Kathrin replied, because that was what you were supposed to say.

'''Before you go,''' Peter said suddenly, as if a point had just occurred to him. '''Let me tell you something.
You say there are people who believe the sheriff can fly, as if that was a foolish thing, like the iron road
and the winking bridge. I cannot speak of the other things, but when I was boy I met someone who had
seen the sheriff'''s flying machine. My grandfather often spoke of it. A whirling thing, like a windmill made
of tin. He had seen it when he was a boy, carrying the sheriff and his men above the land faster than any
bird.'''

'''If the sheriff could fly then, why does he need a horse and carriage now?'''

'''Because the flying machine crashed down to Earth, and no tradesman could persuade it to fly again. It
was a thing of the old world, before the Great Winter. Perhaps the winking bridge and the iron road were
also things of the old world. We mock too easily, as if we understood everything of our world where our
forebears understood nothing.'''

'''But if I should believe in certain things,''' Kathrin said, '''should I not also believe in others? If the sheriff
can fly, then can a jangling man not steal me from my bed at night?'''

'''The jangling men are a story to stop children misbehaving,''' Peter said witheringly. '''How old are you
now?'''

'''Sixteen,''' Kathrin answered.

'''I am speaking of something that was seen, in daylight, not made up to frighten bairns.'''

'''But people say they have seen jangling men. They have seen men made of tin and gears, like the inside
of a clock.'''