"Roger Taylor - Nightfall 2 - Valderen" - читать интересную книгу автора (Taylor Roger)

Sometimes he would return the same day. Sometimes he would be gone for several days. These
mysterious absences unsettled Nilsson badly, particularly the longer ones. They brought to his mind the
spectre of his new Lord not returning, either through some unforeseen hazard or, worse, through choice.
But he could say nothing. As he had many years before, he could only have faith in the path that he had
chosen, accepting the arbitrary behaviour of his Lord and continuing with the task that had been placed in
his hands: the conquest of the land.

Only a few weeks ago such a notion would have seemed absurd to him. Indeed, but weeks ago, itwould
have been absurd. Then, he and his men had been a haunted and broken force. But, no longer. Now they
had been renewed. Now their every ambition could be fulfilled, with time, patience and careful planning.
Despite the dark uncertainty of Rannick’s leadership, the prospect exhilarated Nilsson, though he
allowed no outward sign of this to show.

Such knowledge as he had gained while journeying through the land beyond the valley had told him that
it was large, sparsely populated and possessed of no great military might. That his own troop was small
for such a grandiose scheme as conquest was of little consequence. With the correct tactics, any society
could be brought low by a small, determined group. Had not he and his men been part of such a group
once before? And held in thrall a far more vigorous people than inhabited this land. And too, he knew
that his group would grow. There were always malcontents who could find no place in any ordered
society, however benign. People within whose darker natures lay deep, stagnant pools of anger and
hatred that needed only the right impetus to stir them into corrosive, consuming whirlpools of desire and
resolve. Such people would emerge from the shadows and flock to the new banner that would be raised,
like flies to a carcass.

However, tactics, recruits, and motivation notwithstanding, Nilsson knew all too well that Rannick’s
power was essential to the success of the venture. Only with this could they be assured of a victory
sufficiently complete to ensure that they would retain their grip on the land. And Rannick’s power would
be with them only insofar as these early ventures were successful.

Thus, as Nilsson began to play his part in Rannick’s great scheme, the villagers grew increasingly used to
the sight of groups of armed men passing down the valley, to return days later, triumphant and noisy, with
pack animals and wagons loaded with produce, furniture, and many other items of plunder, and, not
infrequently, pale and fearful captives. They grew used also to the small but steady stream of ill-favoured
individuals let through by the guards who sealed the valley to the south; individuals who sought directions
to the castle with conspiratorial leers, taking it for granted that the villagers were party to the ravaging
activities of Nilsson’s men.

Given almost a free rein by Rannick, Nilsson implemented his original intention with regard to the
villagers, namely that they be left alone while they caused no trouble. He did it quietly, off-handedly
almost, so as to avoid attracting Rannick’s attention, but he was explicit with his men. ‘Leave them alone.
Just let them know it’s in their interests to stay quiet and co-operative. We’ll need them to grow most of
our food eventually. If any of you make trouble here, you’ll answer to me personally.’ He was not
unreasonable, however; he knew his men’s needs. He smiled knowingly. ‘Besides, we’ll get plenty of
everything else we need from the other villages we . . . visit.’

Without openly declaring it, he affected that this was now Rannick’s will, and while his men knew that
this was not so, they also knew enough not to dispute the point. At least, not while they could indeed get
everything they wanted elsewhere.

The villagers themselves watched the unfolding events both fearfully and sullenly. The fate of Katrin and