there long was motionless, looking at the gaze curling over
water.
Far behind the lake, behind the woods reddened, a yard in transparent air, snow
teeth of mountains. They were lit up still by beams of the sun which left for the horizon. Wolfhound
well remembered how him who at all weaned from light in tatters, with
long-term scars from chains on a neck, wrists and anklebones, pushed out
from a cave on a blue hump of a glacier, under the ruthless frosty sun, Here
you your freedom, told it. Go. And it went, being unsteady, sliding barefoot
legs on dense snow, clamping a palm a wound in a side...
Behind the back of proshurshat steps. The wolfhound learned Avdiki's gait and did not become
to turn around.
- With the maid quarreled? - asked young сегван and knowingly nodded: -
Happens.
- Happens, - the Wolfhound told.
- Listen, veins... - Avdika hesitated, looked away, then decided; -
You know, I did not comprehend something as it you rinut me recently at
Ayr-Donna. Perhaps you will show if it is not a pity?
The wolfhound shrugged shoulders. He was not sorry. This way did not enter in
number forbidden which cannot be transferred to the third-party person. It
replaced Nonvolatile Mysh to withers to the horse nibbling a grass
nearby. The horse turned the head, mildly sniffed at Mysh with whom
managed to get acquainted already, then sniffed and again lowered a muzzle to a grass.
Clinging to wool, Nonvolatile Mysh got to him into a mane and was accepted
to pinch salt.
Avdika lifted a spear and as then in tavern, set it on the Wolfhound.
Vienna for some reason in it a certain similarity to that komesy suddenly seemed,
whom it killed eleven years ago... Probably, all business was in
fair hair and in a hairstyle.
- Look, - he began to explain. - Leva you take away an edge, here so.
Right you intercept oskepishche...
The staff started over again being turned out uncontrollably from hands of young
segvana. Avdika tried to hold, but instead willy-nilly
ran the Wolfhound circle. Then legs jumped out from under it. "Tornado
picks up and carries away a straw". Avdika stretched on the earth, laughing loudly and
remembering trihedral flint of Tunnvorn.
- How, how you me? And well, once again, - it seemed to the Wolfhound as if at
edges of a glade the mild greyish burro and from the embroidered saddle stopped on
them from Avdikaya sharp-sightedly the swarty gray-haired old woman also stared.
Caen-kiro a veddaarda of a lurgv, was mentally told to it by the Wolfhound. Name
Goddesses and rules the world Lyubov. Here you see, Mother Kendarat, and at me
now there is a pupil...
When Niilit called is. The wolfhound was to a fire with a kettle - for
Tilorna. The young cook cooked dense barley soup, having filled it
fat, fried onions and still something fragrant, on a sakkaremsky harmony. Niilit
allowed to dispose of edibles on the understanding, and was
it seems that it is not necessary to be sorry about that.
The merchant Fitela, as stuck to the leader, the first tried prepared
food, behind it Aptakhar. Fitela told nothing, only smiled and
with satisfaction nodded. Aptakhar grunted, ran a hand over moustaches and
patted Niilit shoulder:
- The third year I go with you, Fitela, and never before went to bed
hungry, but, for the sake of a genital belly of Rodana, such food at us to these
time did not happen!
- Look, you will spoil good fellows, - addressing Niilit, the merchant noticed. -
So they, who knows, sturgeons and salty nutlets to demand from me
will become.
Niilit schuffled on the place, blinking confusedly and a little scaredly. As
it was necessary to understand these words - as a praise or how reproach?. Soldiers with
laughter and humourous catchphrases took seat in a circle and one after another, on a seniority,
began to lower spoons in a copper. When the turn reached the Wolfhound, he
filled the kettle and carried his Tilorna.
- Wolfhound... - suffering, that began, but did not wait for the answer.
The wolfhound seated him, handed a spoon and a kettle and silently left. Sat down on the
the place was also accepted to food. Perhaps, soup was really richly
also it is tasty. But he did not feel any taste.
When Fitela distributed bread, the Wolfhound got a big top crust. It
pulled down it and ate a half, postponed a half. After the vespers they with Niilit
washed the become empty copper, and then he swung and threw remained
piece nearly on the middle of the lake, otdarivy for caress.
- Be redeemed if you want, - he offered Niilit. - I to a postereg.
There, where bread fell, the large big fish boomingly splashed. And again everything became
quietly. Living in the lake accepted a gift and promised not to frighten by Niilit.
- Thanks, mister, - she quietly thanked and left for a bush
to undress. The wolfhound sat down a back to the lake, clasped with hands knees and
stared in the condensed darkness.
The eye of Gods saw, Gods know: he rejoiced as the last puppy,
to the fact that escaped... to the fact that there was suddenly not one...
Niilit lapped in the lake at it behind the back. She swam, precisely
young frog, and was not afraid of dark water with its cold keys at all and
any creatures living in depth. And in particular when it, Wolfhound,
guarded ashore.
Warm quiet evening was very good, and oboznik sat up late
near a fire. Having rummaged in the belongings, Avdika pulled out a harp -
hollow wooden box with the wooden horns closed in
ring. It appears, young сегван not bad coped with five strings
and besides knew a great lot of songs, from heroic to ridiculous and obscene.
Almost all sang, without excluding Fitela, and even to the Wolfhound from time to time
there was a wish to join. He with some surprise realized also it
desire, and own indecision. He was not able to have fun.
- Komgalu in night a dream was once
The mighty and terrible, decorated with wisdom God... - plaintively removed
Avdika velkhsky ballad of times of the Last war.
Besides own will the Wolfhound began to remember songs which
would surprise pokhodnik, but only one stubborn climbed on mind. It was put by slaves
in Bright mountains, it was also called the Song of Despair.
About what you will sing to us, a string gold?.
The convicts working with years underground had no strings and
in mention. But strings needed to be, and besides gold, and differently and to sing
there is no need.
About what you will sing to us, a string gold?.
Here the stone cold is silent and blind.
There is an eternal night, and the dawn does not happen.
Here vain, hopes lifetime crypt...
Veins pronounced about himself the ancient words which served as waste
prayer to hundreds of people. In Bright mountains live lived in a grave, and
the dead, on the contrary, left on light. Only dead. And it, Wolfhound.
Only. A black gloom of adits and the shaggy gray sun which hung before
entrance to a cave...
In miner, a dump your way will break,
Where the dead watc
h the last dreams,
And mountain sun, cold sun
In blind eyes will have a look from height...
He escaped, but will not leave yourself. At the one who sang seven years
The song of Despair and Song of Death, shower freezes together an ice lump. Perhaps
happen among people and such who even would manage to take out in heart from there
joy and kindness. But it did not concern to the Wolfhound. Four more years
after that seven he exterminated in himself the person. It had to become
soldier. To kill the Cannibal. And to die. In total. How many talked some sense how many
warmed his Mother Kendarat, nothing at her turned out.
Now... And now, probably, was too late.
Its turn to bear guards came after midnight when only it is more
there is a wish to sleep. The wolfhound did not lay down. Spring night was transparent and
it is light for his eyes which got used to an underground gloom. At first it as
follows accustomed with onions, having delayed a bowstring to right fish soup at first four
fingers, then three and at last two. Onions worked from a birch
juniper and moose veins, it was greatly strong. Its horns and
were curved forward if to remove a bowstring. The wolfhound put on grassy
small hill several rods and properly were adjusted by onions. Now, happen
fight, it will be indeed possible to rely on it. Having hidden onions, it was engaged
the axe - at what was short toporishche. When, thrown,
it began to come back surely a handle to a palm, the Wolfhound several times
threw it in the stumps of rods which were sticking out of a grass. Avdika long watched for
to them, having risen on an elbow. To a wolfhound was all the same.
He not too was surprised, having seen the workmate Aptakhar. Matter of course,
Fitela had no bases here so directly at once to trust new,
only today to the employed security guard. Moreover vein. With segvana veins
got on not always.
- I do not love your tribe! - peevishly Aptakhar declared to it. - You,
veins, ran into debt a debt to me!
The wolfhound grinned about himself. At his place considered impropriety top
to doubt the person with whom it happened to divide a shelter and food. Bread
it is sacred. Tasted from one bread - relatives. What such sometimes came to an end in
trustfulness, the Wolfhound too perfectly knew. He was not going to tell
To Aptakhar how itself once treated segvana.
- Well and the maid at you, - having bypassed with it several times a circle of carts,
Aptakhar spoke. - It is good!
- Perhaps it is also good, - the Wolfhound told.
- I did not see something that you with it were pardoned, - Aptakhar continued. -
Listen, veins, but you will not concede for the son? It was looked to my Avdike, directly forces
no. We would not offend you. Two horses silver. Goes?
- She is not a slave that I sold it, and you bought, - quietly told
Wolfhound. - She knows with whom it to be pardoned. - He did not begin to mention
about very bad death of the person who encroached on Niilit. - Your son
will be a nice soldier, - he added, having thought. - He asked me
to explain reception which I tumbled down it.
Aptakhar not without pride smoothed with a finger moustaches.
- Here it to them will also twist you when you begin to butt because of the little girl.
- Perhaps, - the Wolfhound told, - after that he will ask me
to explain him still some reception.
Aptakhar at first frowned, then was going to laugh loudly, but in time
thought that all group will alarm, and it was limited to a very broad smile
and the good-natured poke which had to the Wolfhound just in not healed edges.
When Aptakhar woke two on change, the Wolfhound to the bed curtains not
went. It settled near an extinct fire, nestled a sick side on the earth
also closed eyes. He already fell asleep when his shoulder was touched by a small hand.
Niilit was kneeling beside it.
- Mister, - she whispered. - Let's go, mister! The wolfhound is silent
looked at it and did not move. Niilit pulled it by a hand:
- Tilorn very much asks that you forgave him, mister...
I have a name too, the Wolfhound thought. Aloud told:
- I do not know about what Tilorna you speak. Niilit sobbed,
nestled facing his palm and began to go on, shivering and choking from
got down:
- Mister... to us it is cold without you, mister... It was necessary
To wolfhound to rise and, overcoming itself, to go with it. Well though, at
There dropped down Tilorn mind not to start talking to it any more. Probably, understood that
already told everything. He only drearily sighed when the Wolfhound got on
the place also turned to it a back, having tried not to touch
shoulder, knee.
The pink reflection of a dawn slowly crept on the northern region of heaven. Nonvolatile
Mouse sat on the cart, on the most top bale. Opening wings, it
turned to and fro and quietly chirped, and then guarded ears -
whether the answer will be heard. He knew that nearby nested in the wood it
relatives, and uncertainly waited - whether the girlfriend will fly?.
In the morning the Wolfhound approached Aptakhar, carrying Nonvolatile Mysh on a wrist.
- What is the matter? - Aptakhar angrily muttered. Close knowing him joked,
that in the mornings it is better not to address it: Aptakhar supposedly walks all night long,
but then wakes up by noon.
- He worries, - the Wolfhound told. Really, black small animal
restlessly crossed on a hand, looked around and continually hissed,
developing wings.
- Well and that? - with irritation Aptakhar asked.
- To it wild mice flied, - the Wolfhound explained. - It seems that they
saw someone in the wood.
- Let's put on chain armors? - the suitable Avdika offered, and the Wolfhound thought
about himself that the young man, truly, had no objection to make friends with him. Not otherwise,
for the sake of Niilit. Or perhaps for the sake of Caen-kiro.
- Go on the place, veins! - Aptakhar ordered. It was not at all
it intends to listen to the beginner only because to them it happened
to guard together. The wolfhound shrugged shoulders and departed. However was in time
to hear as Fitela, taking seat on a horse, noticed:
- If you remember, Aptakhar, I pay you for delivered in an integrity
freight, but not for that chain armors were preserved.
Some time Aptakhar, flushing, silently reeled up on a finger long
almost gray mustache. Then raised a voice:
- To put on armor!
The low rough legged horse gradually rysit at a cart wheel. Here only
the Wolfhound not went as yesterday: not from that party of the vehicle where was located
Tilorn, and from opposite. The forest sun slid on the person again
the scientist, but that did not catch him eyes any more, rejoicing to light return,
also did not exhaust the Wolfhound questions, finding out about places which they
passed, and about the one who as lives-can in the local woods... Niilit
held reins, just as the day before too, but sakkaremsky songs not
purred. The wolfhound looked at a rigid, sinewy grass with which grew
superficial road a track, also tried to convince himself that he was wrong.
It a
ppear Mother Kendarat here, here would pour to useless...
Really, from where could the nobility Tilorn that his words were the worst
insult for the man from a genus of the Grey Dog? That the Vienna Truth ordered
to the nasty tyrant to measure by steps own guts? That the one whom
calumnious blamed for blasphemy over the woman, did not take in an otplata gold,
silver - only life?.
Tilorn spoke on-vennski smoothly, it is nearly better most
Wolfhound. Means, knew. Had to know. But if knew, then why?.
For what?. And as he was frightened when he realized that talked nonsense not that. So
it is impossible to pretend to be. Or after all it is possible?.
Also you will not settle accounts with it, with the cripple, otherwise at all there will be no need to live.
The wolfhound continued to wash and feed him and bore when it was required, for a bush
or tree. Eventually, without Tilorn it would not leave from
vaults of the burned-down lock. And that it is much more important, would hardly find
Cannibal. Such debts of a vein were not forgotten too.
The wolfhound well knew that such insult and revenge what is a debt
blood. But here offense... Only the friend can offend. The offense is when you
to death someone will wound to whom you managed to become attached...
Similar was not to it yet.
Day stood hot and stuffy: security guards took a steam bath in abuses and helmets,
put on fur cap comforters, and in every possible way teased the Wolfhound.
In their amicable opinion, he was frightened of a shadow and if still the, and that is
mouse. He knew that it was necessary to laugh the matter off. Spravny soldier never
it oserditsya on nonsense unless will cut off the scoffer a reciprocal sneer on
fun to companions. But the Wolfhound did not study this knowledge.
Therefore he was silent.
Two dense fir-trees began to fall at the same time: one ahead of vehicles,
another - slightly behind. And at once arrows - almost departed to an emphasis, from both
parties.
It should Fitela's security guards hardly, be they without chain armors. On them
happiness, attackers did not expect from them such foresight and
sreznyam - arrows with wide tips stocked up generally,
capable to break a breast of the person and to produce blood to a horse. However in
Bloody Revenge Page 8
