Once there was the most usual village - everything in which, as well as in
everyone rural lands, there lived the one and only sort. On a wide glade in the wood rose
the big communal house surrounded with lodges is less, and lived in lodges
the women and men calling themselves Nightingales. The local legend said,
that at the very beginning of times the progenitress of the tribe listened with delight
nightingale shchekot also gave the love to the beautiful young man whom
the singer unsightly in appearance turned back. Other nightingales remembered and learned
and on spring she still announced the song sung by it for darling
the woods which are smelling sweet as a bird cherry. And old women and old men still remembered how
in the moonlight nights young girls nude went to a thicket, dreaming to be pleasant
to the handsome werewolf, Well, after the night spent in the wood at some in
the business stomachs began to grow...
All this curious Tilorn little by little, little by little extended from
reticent Wolfhound within several days. That answered
by fits, in monosyllables and reluctantly. When Tilorn tried to inquire
something about its own sort - in general ceased for half a day. Another
time, as well as patience, Tilorn had a business more than enough: to Big
To churchyard they went four more days.
Walking forward. The wolfhound first all askanced at Niilit - whether will sustain
road. But the little girl tirelessly splashed barefoot heels and even managed
on the road to dig kislitsa or still something tasty for a kettle.
After battle with dead persons at them time all fish, and the Wolfhound became rotten
already was thought, whether not to rob the forgotten squirrel storeroom. But
in the evening they stopped at an ozerka, and Niilit in a trice caught frogs,
which, it appears, she was able to roast surprisingly tasty.
- These are frogs, mister, - she confusedly addressed the blind person. - At us
they are eaten. If your belief does not prohibit...
- Does not prohibit, - Tilorn smiled. - Though, frankly speaking, my people
for a long time does not kill living beings to sate a stomach.
The wolfhound was released at last by heat, and he gave a hand to food too. Belief
Tilorna seemed to it oddish, but it saw before and stronger. Yes. On
to penal servitude it caught the rats who were found in vaults. Also ate them crude. And
were among slaves and such who preferred to starve to death, but not
to renounce the belief condemning dirty food...
The wolfhound chewed the crackling frog leg and reached for following.
For the last hundred years at Solovyov a lot of things changed.
Rod who without budging from a place was sitting in the impassable wood and who was doing not know
nobody, except the closest neighbors, quite unexpectedly it appeared on
brisk trade way. Visiting guests began to stop, and
tiny anonymous all shaved a name: Big Churchyard. Other baby birds
Nightingale whether seen business, fluttered away from the places hatched by generations,
were carried away goodness knows where to twist new nests. But near old nests began
to lodge foreign, alien people. Appeared even such who did not hunt and not
plowed lands. Some to go crazy, kept inns, prepared
I go and cooked beer to guests, laid them beds and bodies lived with spring to
spring. And, the most surprising, lived not bad...
Any minute, will be fighting at the head of a brave team soon
the galiradsky boyar will also build fortress town, will begin duty with merchants
to collect...
In a word, nobody turned around after the Wolfhound going down the street with
the basket and the Nonvolatile Mysh who settled down on a shoulder. Big
The churchyard managed to lose curiosity, having seen enough of the most different people.
Here not especially would be surprised even to the black from Monomatana dressed in
loincloth from a motley skin of a python. You will think, the tramp-venn,
carrying the cripple who acquired hair on a back. If which of three and
attracted excess views, so unless the beauty Niilit, timidly
holding a hand of the Wolfhound and dressed - fie, a stydobishcha! - in men's
shirt.
The wolfhound stopped in front of gate of Gostiny dvor. Over them,
koleblemy wind, the sign shook and squeaked: mighty horse,
attracting sledge with load. A horse once painted white, and paint not
absolutely from it peeled off.
- "A white Horse"! - read off Niilit. The wolfhound was lop-sided on
it. The wizard and the very pretty little girl able to read. Very much even
not bad.
The yard behind gate was almost empty, except for several
tall bronze halisunets who, briskly exchanging words,
stacked some bales in strong, on high wheels the vehicle. Wolfhound
nodded it as it befits the polite guest. Halisuntsa for an instant interrupted
chatter also nodded in reply.
The door stood hospitably open. The wolfhound cast away motley
curtain also entered inside.
Was at about noon, and the tavern could not brag mnogolyudy.
The servant wiped tables, and on the floor covered with straw settled down
young worker. Carefully podtesyvy, it adapted a new leg to
to long bench.
The wolfhound lowered a basket from shoulders, Tilorna took out from it and seated on
bench near a door. Niilit immediately villages nearby, clasped the tending body,
propped up. To Tilorn, precisely the baby, still it was necessary to learn to sit most.
The wise man smiled to Niilit and is guilty sighed.
The wolfhound approached a rack. Korchmar wiping clay circles
the embroidered towel, left the occupation now and moved forward,
all look representing hospitality. It was from east velkh: Wolfhound
understood it on the embroidered bandage on a forehead.
- The benefit to you, the kind owner, under a shelter of this house, - addressed it to
to velkh in his native language. - Whether now beer in yours well wanders
coppers?
- Gratitude to Gods, in our house everything is good, - that responded and
lowered a palm on a wooden rack, being protected from a possible malefice. -
The barley harvest, at Trekhrogy's will, was excellent, and at his will not
malt is translated at us... - here it threw a tall Wolfhound estimating
look,-... what my master can be convinced of and itself if wishes
to be refreshed after the journey. Besides, we have nice fried pigs,
food of soldiers. There is a porridge, milk and cottage cheese for the patient and sweet for
beauties. What will my master order to give?
The wolfhound with a smile clapped a hand on the lean burse hanging on
belt. The jingle was distributed far not at once: to three copper pennies
time was required to gather in one corner.
- My good luck, - the Wolfhound told, - now such is that I look for not fried
pigs, and work. Perhaps you will prompt, respectable, would not be useful
the security guard to someone from the merchants going to Galirad?
- Today, I am afraid, I will please you with nothing, - replied вельх. -
However, tomorrow there has to arrive venerable Fitela: it is always
stops at me, than I by right am proud. Try the luck. Only,
to te
ll you the truth, its wagon trains are always very well protected. If
you wish, I have rooms for a lodging for the night above...
- We entered the dwelling of the worthy husband. - The wolfhound ceremoniously bowed.
- We will spend the night at the lake. And in the morning if you do not object, we will glance again to
to you.
And it turned to go, but the owner was bent through a rack and is careful
held it for a sleeve. He told;
- There is no need to spend the night at the lake if it is possible to stop under a roof. I
I will take nothing from you for a billeting.
To tell the truth, the room was not too magnificent. That not
less in it there was a bed - the most real wooden bed with a blanket,
pillow and pure, let not bleached, linen sheets.
- Perhaps, Niilit... - indecisively there began Tilorn, but the Wolfhound
silently laid it and covered with a blanket. - To go crazy... - the scientist whispered,
ironing soft, well dressed sheepskin. - To go crazy... I already also forgot,
as all this looks...
I too, the Wolfhound, but aloud thought, of course, told nothing. Copper coins
were again knocked one about another, having happened in a burse, and it
suddenly the crazy thought visited: and that, if really sweets for
Niilit?. No, nonsense. The piece of white loaf is better a milk cup yes
To Tilorn...
At this time at a door knocked. The wolfhound nodded, and Niilit standing at
entrance, opened.
Through a threshold stepped корчмарь with a wattled tray in hands. Was on that
tray a wooden flat dish with a good chunk of fried pork, big
bowl of millet cereal on milk, a glass of beer, bread and several gingerbreads.
Korchmar smiled, looking at the Wolfhound.
- I solved, - he told, - that he will not prevent to be supported to you after all.
The guest should not remain hungry, if entered the house.
- But you will not lose so, the worthy owner? - without hurrying
to accept a tray, the Wolfhound gloomy asked. - Nobody knows how
I will be able to repay you a debt soon...
-... and whether you will be able in general, - that picked up and put food on
window sill. Broke off a bread piece, dipped in fat and treated Mysh. Black
the small animal at first threateningly opened wings, but then changed the mind, took bread
and began to eat with appetite. - I live not the first year and I trade in these
places, - continued корчмарь. - I know your people and long ago understood that
veins never forget debts... - Here his look as if accidentally
slipped on the Wolfhound braids speaking about recently executed revenge. -
But also, my master, I acquired that people where as glazasta and
all are inclined to notice. So, all will hear districts soon about
the fact that корчмарь Ayr-Donn did not refuse a lodging for the night and food to the man of courage from
the tribe of venn which made a certain worthy business so it is temporary
grew poor. You will live about mine on such crossroads...
Without having finished speaking, he smiled again, went beyond a door and without knock
realized it for himself.
- Thanks to you, kind Ayr-Donn, - was late Tilorn gave a vote.
Nonvolatile Mysh chewed bread and tickled the Wolfhound a wing, eliciting
additive.
In the evening, having been chosen in the yard to breathe, the Wolfhound was lost in contemplation of old
the apple-tree growing beside a porch. The revealed flowers a gentle-pink cloud
shrouded it to the top, but the knotty, deformed trunk and
clumsy boughs spoke about difficult lived century.
So, happens, the elderly woman will take out red-white from a chest
the wedding dress, will put to a breast - and will think and again will become similar
on that young beauty who once was...
- Egeus!. - In a high window of the house the boy appeared and, wishing as
it is visible, to stand out before the stranger, waved from a window sill directly on
tree. The torn-off petals rose, centenary branches plaintively sighed.
Big bough, without having sustained, cracked and hung: the white crack lay boundaries
them and trunk.
The wolfhound for an ear lowered down to the ground the jumper:
- Vividly bear вар and a rope...
- Yes well it!. - having run off away, it is angry cried out
madcap. - It and apples does not give!
- It is told you - bear, here and bear, - strictly noticed. Ayr-Donn,
come to a porch. - Listen that seniors tell! - And, when that
escaped, explained to the Wolfhound looking at it: - This is my son. Mischievous person,
there are no forces. And apple-tree, respectable, really barren flower. Any year to cut down
I gather, and I will have a look as blossoms, and I will give up. If also apples
were...
The boy brought вар and a lykovy rope, and Ayr-Donn took away him to the house:
the son collected empty circles from tables, helped to wash the dishes. Having remained
one, the Wolfhound reliably tied up a bough and covered a wound that it was not got
decay. Then sat down down to the ground and leaned a back against a curved trunk.
On the yard there and here people went, from tavern muffled reached
rumble of voices. The blossoming branches glowed over the head of the Wolfhound, quietly shining in
pink sky before sunset...
The same apple-trees grew at his place...
As always, at the thought of the house at the left in a breast заныло deafly and hard.
The wolfhound closed eyes and, having cast away the head, nestled on a tree a nape.
What apples nearly till a new harvest were stored in the communal subfield, in
big wattled baskets, - ruddy, juicy ingots blessed
sun... What spirit always was in that subfield, will enter - and precisely mother in
kissed a cheek... Any Grey Dog would not dare to offend old
apple-tree. It all the same that to offend the woman, which with age
lost motherhood and replaced a horned beaded kika with modest
scarf...
Who pailfuls scattered now manure under apple-trees, who
propped up poles the heavy, tending branches who thanked for good?
The old, wise tree with careful caress looked at young
confused guy...
For a long time nobody approached the Wolfhound to unnoticed. And here, it seems
you, did not hear steps. Therefore, maybe, also did not hear that was not in them
evils, threats. Soft fingers stroked his hand, and it is instantly
it was thrown up, opening eyes. It was faced by the little girl of years of ten. Stood
also looked at it without any fear: adults were not near,
which would explain to her that broad-shouldered men with the broken noses and
semivershkovy knives in a sheath happen very much, are very dangerous. It is dressed
was in one long, to toe, linen shirt without belt altered from
parental. Such all Vienna children carry, will not enter at summer yet.
Redenky fair hair hanged down on shoulders from under a tape on a forehead. Only
also you will understand that not the boy, on the lonely bead hanging on a thread between
clavicles.
- Hi, the Grey Dog, - the girl told. - That you are such sad
you sit?
- And you hi, - slowly spoke the Wolfhound, really
feeling lik
e an enormous angry dog whom unexpectedly
stuck around, somersaulting, silly little puppies. And, as that dog, he stood,
without daring to move: not to push away, not to frighten... And in consciousness
constant fought: and I would have a house... there would be also a daughter...
- In vain you go one, - he told at last. - People... everyones are...
She inclined the head to a plechik and timidly smiled to it. Happen,
like, but I know that you not from such. The wolfhound ineptly smiled in
the answer remembered the scars also at once and what in a mouth was not enough
foretooth: the smile did not paint it at all. However magic being
looked clear gray eyes, persistently refusing to be afraid. Then
raised hands to a neck:
- You want, I will present a bead to you?
Here the Wolfhound thought at last that fell asleep under an apple-tree and pleased in
fairy tale. Vennsky women gave a beads to grooms and husbands, and those strung
them on thongs with which pulled together braids. With smooth thongs
one widowers and those to whom the woman yet not were shown on people
condescended. Having in a moment forgot to speak, the Wolfhound managed only silently
to nod. The girl vividly untangled a thread, put on cut
crystal bead on its thong, fixed by a small knot. Also laughed,
happy with the successful cunning:
- And all spoke to me, at me, at the plain woman, nobody also will ask a beads...
- You grow up somewhat quicker, - the Wolfhound whispered. - There we will have a look.
And bitterly regretted about himself that left the eaten too much Mysh to sleep off on
the wooden nail driven in a wall. That would be pleasures - give a mouse
to stroke...
- Where you live? - he asked, unbending knees. - Give I take.
Mother, it seems, already goes crazy.
Also noticed that the girl really was thin and small for
ten years. While he sat, they with it looked each other in the face, but
once you rose, and it hardly reached the top his zone belt.
The wolfhound carefully took a warm trustful palm and went with the girl with
yard.
It appears, her family, as well as the Wolfhound with the, was journey here.
Only stopped on other end of the Big Churchyard, at distant relatives.
When the Wolfhound with the girl approached the yard, towards from gate
the beautiful stout woman ran out. Saw them and, having thrown up the hands,
Bloody Revenge Page 6
