"Henry Lion Oldie. Fragments of novels in english translation" - читать интересную книгу автора

excessive energy, and the thirst for adventures obscures the senses of a
young Brilliant.
Oh, youth, why are you so fond of arguing and prooving? Almost
always you do it at a wrong time, in a wrong place and before indifferent
witnesses...
At my age -- and I've already changed in sequence five Carriers (I
preferred the helpful and skilful house of Unkor fosaken in the sands of
Upper Whay, the outskirts of Maylane) -- so, at my age it suffises to
have six or seven traditional tournaments a year plus the more or less
regular Debates with the familiar Brilliants. With one of them -- called
Wolf's Broom -- I met more often than with others. It was a pike branched
like the deer's horns or a ruffled tail of a steppe wolf. It dwelt in the
Loow-Raskhar Street but a week ago it went with its Carrier somewhere to
the mountains. Frankly speaking I missed the Broom a little and hoped
that it'll return at least for the second half of the tournament in
prospect.
I liked to slide between its notched sprouts. It was... yes, it was
delightful. Much better than the habits of my rival-friend, Gwenil the
Lowlesean: it was unceremonious like all its two-hand kin and always
strived during the Debate to come down on you with all its mass, and you
had to spring and to fly aside; then Gwenil went away sprawling
insolently at the shoulder of its mighty Carrier of a white-haired
Northern breed and irradiating offencive contempt with its naked blade.
I moved uneasily remembering the injuries of old. But soon I
relaxed: they were old injuries. At the last tournament held in the open
court of Buraya Castle I managed to catch Gwenil when it concentrated
attention at its best stroke and I touched with my edge the Adam's apple
on the strong neck of its Carrier. And the espadon self-confident as it
was knew very well what my touch is worth.
-- You're perfecting yourself, One-Horned,-- Gwenil whistled
disappointedly, and for the first time it didn't hurry to rest upon its
Carrier's shoulder.-- Take care not to lose your sharpness because of
your pride!
I saluted the Lowlesean giant and since then I liked to recollect
Buraya Castle and my triumph.
But still I was pondering about the strange Kharzean: where did it
come from? By Thunder Blade, was that meeting casual or intentional? Was
it a young bully who had recently arrived to Kabir or an experienced
Brilliant wanting to test its strength face-to-face with me without any
spectators?
The firewood burned out. The door opened and the Lesser Brilliants
of my house entered the hall in a file swaying at their Carriers' belts,
all in similar scabbards, violet with silver embroidery.
-- Hail to you, the Supreme Dan! -- tinkled shortly the Lesser ones
while their Carriers were crowding about the fireplace, moving the
armchairs, laying the table and dusting the perfectly clean window-
glasses.
I nodded them from my place at the carpet. Some of the Lessers have
been long known to me from their birth, they belonged for ages to the
suite of the Maylanese Straight swords Dan Ghiens.