Bloody Revenge
Page 22
the old woman and with crying directed across to the boyar, trying to grasp for
stirrup. The petitioner, the Wolfhound managed to solve. Looks for the Truths seigniorial. And
can, protection against the strong person...
Adolescents meanwhile did not miss a long-awaited opportunity to prove to be. Not
allowed the grandma not that to concern a stirrup, - even to come nearer to
to the mister. The young soldier pushed aside it a horse now, having overturned on
pavement. Having bent in a saddle, he wanted to hit the impudent ragamuffin still
spear staff... But did not strike because over the old woman, having dropped to one
knee, already stood tall veins with a long hem on the left cheek. Venn
told nothing, just raised the head and looked at the youth, and that distinctly
understood: one more movement, and to it will come the end. And this end,
possibly, it will be awful. The adolescent hasty pushed a horse with heels and jumped
after the.
Having convinced that nobody was going to come back. The wolfhound lifted
old woman:
- Did not hurt, the grandmother?
That only cried, having hidden in hands the face. Cried so as if at it on
eyes killed relatives. The wolfhound corrected a peahen, it is a shame slipped with
wretched gray-haired head. The woman, seemingly, was from east velkh, but
spent too much time in the foreign land: from former only all and
remained that an intricate, thin ligature of a green tattoo on brown
the dried brush. Yes instead of a solvennsky poneva - the raincoat on shoulders which is chopped off
cheap pin. A faded starukhina the shirt which is obviously altered from the stranger
shoulder, it was tidily darned, and on elbows were seen carefully
pritachanny patches. The servant, the Wolfhound judged. And even slave.
- Calm down, вамо, - the Wolfhound in language of its homeland told. - Who you
offended?
Having heard the velkhsky speech, the old woman raised the head, looked to it in a face
the dark swelled-up eyes also tried to tell something, but tears deprived of it
voices.
- Over... wash Over... How many winters... - only also the Wolfhound sorted.
He looked around. People went by, and those who did not see
the incident, with curiosity looked back at the old woman sobbing in
embraces of the armed man. Mother met the son. And maybe,
sees off? Though is not present more likely after all met.
Idle views not especially were pleasant to the Wolfhound, and he led the grandma
aside, - there where friendly open door of tavern was seen.
It was that "Mutton Bock" whose sign he sorted in the morning. Wolfhound
stepped over a high threshold and almost transferred through it the old woman: that not
took away hands from the face and obediently trudged where it conducted it. It is unlikely at it
there were reasons to especially trust similar to the robber a vein, but the Wolfhound
understood that she its sense also did not make out. It was just all the same:
so behave at the last step of despair when it seems that further
there is no need to live. He knew how it happens.
The tavern was surprisingly extensive. Here to what Wolfhound first
marveled in big cities: houses were molded closely the friend to the friend here,
nearly climbed one on another that though sidewise though watchfully, and
to lean out, seem on the street. You enter inside, thinking: on one leg
it is necessary to stand, - you look, An from a door to a rack kind twenty
steps...
Inside was enough for the people. Hour was the most suitable for
dinner, that is day food when the sun stands in the south. All who had no
in the city of the center, sought to have a bite in taverns. Here hurried
and a good few of those who quite could eat houses. The tavern is
not just Russian cabbage soup, porridge yes beer. It both old friends, and new acquaintances,
quite often where as useful to the efficient citizen. And just fresh
people with the talk, and at times with the most interesting and surprising
stories...
Having run all over tavern the swept together look, the Wolfhound found a long bench,
absolutely empty, except for the one and only young guy, on
to look - journeymen of the skinner. Venn brought the old woman there and seated in
the end, distant from the guy, but that started, hasty moving
closer:
- It is busy here... people here now will approach. The wolfhound wanted
to throw out the skinner of wons, for a start having put a snout about smoothly
ostruganny, fatherlike God's Palm, but he told only:
- Will move.
- It is busy, I speak! - discontentedly the journeyman repeated.
The wolfhound repeated too, this time through clenched teeth:
- Will move.
Did not decide to argue with it усмарь further and with insult became silent. Wolfhound
stopped the pretty servant running by:
- Bring, the beauty, cold curdled milk for the grandmother...
Generally water, milk, curdled milk, kvass and even beer in galiradsky
taverns gave a gift, - but only that who ordered something
to eat. Therefore the Wolfhound handed to the girl a penny, and that, having nodded, escaped.
- Now, вамо, - the Wolfhound told.
Drink distracts, forces the person to think of something, except the
sufferings, and helps those if not to calm down, then though to gather a little
with thoughts. The servant returned from a cellar and put before the Wolfhound
the sweating mug. The wolfhound moved it to the woman:
- Drink.
The old woman it is indifferent took a mug and brought to lips.
-... and here then it also lowered on us the venn, - reached ears
Wolfhound the loud and slightly intoxicated young voice which reached from depth
taverns, from there, where any more daylight from a door, only yellow did not reach
blinking of oil svetilnichok on long clubs on walls. The voice was
the acquaintance, and Wolfhound pricked up the ears at once. Another matter, it anything it not
gave out and did not become to turn around.
- Real zipunnik, - continued speaking. - Five or six snouts,
everyone - three growth of arshins and in shoulders one and a half. That to me if I lie!. And
where only gathered such!. Well, that is we at first scattered them and
then at once two fiascos took me by hands, and the third directly in an eye
-ak...
It was one of moving men. That to which the Wolfhound returned selected
knife. Not really it is clear why in general it needed to brag
disgracefully ended fight. If it being drunk accepted one
the opponent for five. But here the fact that two venn allegedly held it for
hands, and the third crippled helpless a fist...
The guy meanwhile at all released reins.
- Then they also took away a kind knife from me, - he told listening. -
Men they, clearly, zdorovushchy, only I to them pulled all one nose. Force
by force, and and the mind should be had. I come, so the next day,
I find their leader... To tell you what it did there? Our spittles on
to floor wiped up...
The amicable laughter accompanied these words.
- And so, I such modest woman and well suit it a pig for a beaver
to sell:
the knife supposedly father's, from the parent passed. Смилосердствуйся,
so, do not allow to die from shame. It, simplicity, right there snivels
dismissed and to me from the doghouse run took out it back. Though
looked, mind chamber, - a knife brand new...
This time the laughter left more liquid. Not all in Galirada managed to forget how
it is necessary to be ashamed of parents, the trick of the moving man seemed not to all ridiculous.
Another matter - once again to hook venn, on it yes!
From the Wolfhound did not take cover as on him the journeyman cautiously was lop-sided.
The wolfhound nodded to him on the old woman:
- Look after that nobody offended.
And itself rose to the feet and slowly went towards a rack.
He made out the moving man almost at once. That sat to it a back, and a table
before it it was entirely forced by empty circles. Nearby regaled on beer
several local guys. Someone cracked the next joke "... and here
comes veins to the city", all laughed. The wolfhound continued to go, and
at last the young moving man noticed that sitting opposite to him on one
cease to listen to it and become silent, looking over his head somewhere.
He with irritation looked back...
That looked down on it veins from inn of Lyubochada.
Looked, without blinking. Also was silent. Also was approximately such as he is just
painted. Sazhenny to growth the guy weaved out of iron knotty
belts. And over a shoulder at it the heavy crosspiece of a sword dimly posvechivat.
Patiently waited for veins, it will not become absolutely silent yet. And at this table, and for
next. Then he started talking. Not really loudly, but it is heard.
- If you consider yourself the man, get up and answer for the
words, - the Wolfhound told. - But there will be no you, so just a bag with
shit. And anything else.
Again it became silent. Already all tavern looked at them.
- Hey, easier there, veins... - someone grumbled behind the back of the Wolfhound.
The wolfhound did not begin to turn around and answer.
It stood very quietly and not movably, having lowered hands. Also waited. Also looked
on the offender, without looking away.
That, of course, managed to overturn in himself the decent number of mugs,
but it was far not so drunk, as in day of a fight. There was no wish to die to it.
He hung the head and stooped on a bench, hiding eyes.
Seeing that he is not going to get up at all, the Wolfhound sharply bent down and
the bystry movement which very few people managed to follow pulled out a knife from
sheath on the moving man's belt. That knife. Having taken three fingers strong
edge, the Wolfhound broke it as a splinter. Threw fragments on a floor and went
silently, not looking back, to a little table at a door. There, where left the old woman. It
knew that will manage to hear if the moving man after all takes in head to throw out
nonsense. Or not the moving man, and someone else. But nothing happened. To
to that time when it returned at a table, the tavern hooted absolutely
still.
What there was a grief, it is impossible to sob endlessly. Something is overflowed
in soul, and the tearing apart despair is replaced by stupid indifference. Here and
old velkhinka, having bent over the emptied mug, wiped red
from eye tears, but did not cry any more.
The journeyman seeing how the Wolfhound went to a rack met him with
and even pointed by all respect to it to the old woman: like, looked after. And when
after a while a noisy band his friends became hollow and began
to complain that the place on a bench is not enough, - waved on them hands:
- Nothing, move...
- Tell, the grandmother if you want, - the Wolfhound told.
... She was called Kirenn. Forty winters ago, the young girl, she ascended with
the darling on an honest marriage bed. A wedding to which would follow
to take place in the fall, against any usage celebrated at the end of spring,
because neighbors-sakkaremtsy threatened with war and men of the tribe, children
Silver Cloud, went to battle. Let the youth groom, judged
elders, will find darling and at least will continue itself by posterity if
he will be fated to fall. And it left, it Over кланд Ar-katneyl, harmonious,
as young poplar, strong, as hundred bulls, and ruddy, as morning
dawn. Left not to return...
The destiny was ungracious to the young wife. Gods did not send it the successor, and
at times in marriage it did not go because soldiers told it that her Nada not
was among fallen. Once Kirenn left from the house and too did not come back.
She went to Sakkarem, hoping to find for the husband there. And, of course, not
found, only itself got into slavery. Long carried it, precisely
small chip in the bystry river, and at last beat to the coast: nine winters
back here, in Galirada, goodhearted fellow countrymen-velkhi redeemed Kirenn
from bondage. The benefit of the great price for her who grew old and toothless, any more not
broke. So she also remained to live here - the servant at one dobra
widows...
And today, when Kirenn went to the market behind greens for
hozyaykiny table, it happened to it to pass by the arrantsky ship,
loaded before close departure. And there... at a planked footway, on
which rolled on the top of a barrel with the well-known galiradsky herring...
stood... with pisaly in a hand and a waxed plate on a breast, on wattled
lace... with a slave collar on a neck...
- It all same, my Over... - The Skobleny God's Palm was irrigated again
transparent drops of tears. - All the same beautiful... only gray-haired absolutely...
Having seen it, old Over grabbed heart and nearly died on the spot. And
then rushed to it, but on hands to pick up as once, any more did not manage.
It had a hand only one now, he lost the second in youth, in that
very first and last fight. But as strong he embraced her this
the only escaped hand!.
So they also stood, having forgotten about all this world. So far strict hail
the supervisor did not force to regain consciousness, did not pull off from happy heaven...
- And then that? - the Wolfhound asked.
And then she forced down the legs crippled by an old age, rushed about on the city,
trying to collect repayment for the husband. The ship should go today
in swimming, and an arrant Darsy, the owner Nada, did not intend at all, to wait.
Having run all over relatives-velkhov, Kirenn rushed on the floor space, to
to ringing maple Bill whom from time immemorial called honest the people
offended and suffering a grief, Kirenn was not born in Galirade and was not even
solvennka. Who could wait that citizens will begin to listen
the tousled old woman?. On the contrary, not only listened, but even became
to throw money to her legs. Mostly, clear, copper coins, but came across
and silver.
Two and a half horses gathered.
There were four and a half more...
Whether Nadov a hozkhin-arrant mocked, whether it is truly unreasonably high
appreciated the one-armed slave who was not giving anybody a finger to start in
master's good. Publicly promised to release it for seven horses silver.
No m
ore, but also not less: the trouble prick a groshik will not get. And when it
the following time in Galirad will bring, about that and it did not know. Perhaps at all
does not pripozhalut any more...
- Here then, so you to the boyar... - the Wolfhound told.
Kirenn nodded. What is seven horses for the boyar? For the hero
army, military production and favor of the knes collected without measure?.
Nielloed silver stirrup to which did not allow the old woman, one
costed more. Well so Left, it is left and is. On the right side not
it will be turned out. Perhaps and not for nothing vigilant protection followed it. Not a sin
it to kill...
- Went, - the Wolfhound told. Kirenn rose and took for a shoulder. - Went,
вамо, we will redeem your grandfather.
Without trusting itself, the velkhinka ran all over eyes his latany not colored shirt
and bare leather trousers and almost laughed:
- Yes you... Yes you, sonny...
- At me to eat than pay, - the Wolfhound told. And from irreversibility
these words heart deafly knocked. - Went, respectable Kirenn кланд
Arkatneyl.
The wolfhound understood at once that they with the old woman slightly were not late.
The big, low sitting arrantsky ship still lay alongside, but
the last preparations for departure of a dispute came to an end. Just about on both
masts motley square sails will rise. Mooring will fall in water
ropes. And the vessel will slowly spread away from the coast, on the run involving in
the anchor cable twisted from the strongest halisunsky hemp...
Saw one-armed Nad Volkodav immediately. Unfortunate old man
shifted from one foot to the other at it is similar, peering into crowd. It was indeed high and
the plechist and, truly, in youth was where as it is good. And at it dangled around the neck
bronze collar. The educated arrant put on slaves collars with
strong ear for a chain that in case of an unruliness it was easier
to arrest for punishment. Here Over noticed for the Kirenn, then going
behind it tall vein... The wolfhound saw that he first Over accepted him for
starukhiny son. Perhaps even for own. You never know supposedly
where at what tribe that son could grow up... Then the slave understood the mistake
and only sighed.
At this time, having overtaken the Wolfhound and Kirenn, to staircases a fast pace