Bloody Revenge

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Bloody Revenge Page 26

by Darrell Guidry


  It happened to wolfhound to protect the most different people, men and women, but

  it is more and more on the way. And with such bigwigs as a knesinka, put

  it had no yet. To rise ahead, at a chair armrest?. Now to you.

  Right, perhaps, the hands will strangle. And it seems explain to him that with

  to be considered as ranks as the bodyguard - as with... that's it, with gray

  sentry dog, ahead of the owner, happens, running...

  They with Tilorn reached the street of armorers without efforts if not

  to consider the fact that all counter velkh bowed to them.

  - Hi, respectable, - the Wolfhound told, entering a workshop

  bronnik.

  - And you to a pozdorov, veins, - the master Krapiva, rusoborody answered

  thick середович. - Yesterday I waited for you... All right, people told. It is whole

  your named, is not sold. We go, you will look.

  And he led the Wolfhound to the yard where in good weather took out on

  honest sunlight selling armor. Galiradsky masters usually

  worked to order, but nowadays even more often it happened, as

  just on the bargaining.

  Armor did the most various here. Chain armors small, large,

  flat and double weaving and even such that were not formed from

  separate rings, and matched from a long wire entirely. Similar

  chain armors were difficult to be repaired and used them not for serious

  affairs and to stand out more. In the yard at the master Krapiva were

  are exposed board to a reservation: weaved out of iron plates on thongs and

  others, on continuous skin to which plates were sewn or

  priklepyvatsya by one edge and beautifully came one for another as

  scales on fish. Many soldiers considered them more reliable than chain armors. To a wolfhound in

  the time was necessary to use that and another. As well as to battle

  with the rivals dressed in a various armor. And, if happened

  opportunity, he preferred everything a semi-pood Vienna chain armor with

  collar in a palm and sleeves to an elbow. Such perfectly held any

  the casual, sliding blow also did not constrain movements. And direct stroke of a sword,

  the axe or arrow will not hold also a cast bib from those that recently

  coastal segvana, fans of horse fight began to do...

  The wolfhound came for a chain armor for which noticed to himself still the day before yesterday.

  He then bypassed almost all workshops and saw it nearly in the last

  on the account, but when saw - could hardly look away. Having asked

  permissions, he pulled through the head the rustling blued lace, and to it

  it seemed that shoulders clasped heavy friendly hands. So, probably

  its sword felt in the sheath worked by old Varokh. In front

  the chain armor stretched for one and a half spans below a crotch, behind was

  slightly well that it was more conveniently sat in a saddle. Here nadezha so

  nadezha!. The wolfhound long touched the shining rings made tightly

  or fastened with tiny rivets, found traces of skillful here and there

  also did not find repair what to carp at. Both work, and quality of metal

  there were besskverna. Will dream as a sword, something will tell...

  At all not a sin to give for such both predatory, much more liquid and

  without collars. To frighten only the rural people that zhivy took out

  food and good.

  The wolfhound pulled out them from a swag - серебристо sparkling, cleaned off,

  torn off from a rust and the remains засохшею a blood raid. Master

  Nettle fluently threw them a highly experienced eye and with satisfaction nodded.

  To the merchant or there the traveler on the way will fit.

  - On hands? - with fragile heart the Wolfhound asked.

  - On hands.

  The wolfhound still took the beauty armor on palms, without hurrying to hide

  in a swag. Tilorn who just now appeared from a workshop approached to

  to it it is also interested stretched to touch, but at the last minute

  drew aside fingers:

  - It is possible? The wolfhound smiled:

  - It is possible, does not bite.

  - I thought, you never know, belief some... - admiring bluish

  patches of light on the equal, ironed-out rings, Tilorn explained.

  Belief was valid, but to the good person a lot of things

  it is allowed.

  The wolfhound noted about himself that after the scientist from a workshop door

  the pupil without mustache jumped out and, having withdrawn the Nettle away, there was something

  to speak to him alarmed whisper. Venn immediately suspected that in vain

  left Tilorn there, inside, unguarded, and pricked up ears, but in it

  time the Nettle turned to them.

  - You who such? - terribly frowning, he addressed Tilorn. - For

  whom my secrets you extort?

  - I? - Tilorn gasped. - I did not extort any secrets, the kind master. I

  just asked this nice fellow in what way at you here

  crows!.

  The wolfhound hid a chain armor and hung up a bag on a shoulder. "Thong of kind

  intentions" hung on its sheath untied: knesinka with own hand

  dismissed it and supplied with a wooden label with the brand in a sign

  the fact that it was authorized its goodwill. To grab a sword

  The wolfhound, clear, did not gather. It did not even move a little, but about

  estimated itself as they with Tilorn will begin to leave if the bronnik takes in head

  to click hefty pupils.

  - Bake in zhaby milk! - bellowed сольвенн. - And report,

  подсыл blednozady!

  - And not for nothing you the Nettle were nicknamed, - showing the beaten-out tooth in a smile,

  told the master Volkodav. - Do not quarrel in vain, you will longer live. This

  the person - not подсыл. He books read more, than you for the life of rings

  riveted. Talk to it, it still will teach you how to voronit.

  - Go both of you from here! - it was poured by blood the Nettle. - Here truth

  sacred; it is impossible with veins in an amicable way...

  - My kind friend fairly exaggerates my knowledge, - with quiet

  Tilorn answered with advantage: - But something in metal I is valid

  I understand and, perhaps, really would guide you on some

  reasonably useful thought. My people, dear, live very far from here,

  and we have a saying: one head well, and one and a half is better...

  - Head?. - Solvenn from surprise forgot to be angry. - What else

  head?.

  Tilorn began to smile already absolutely cheerfully:

  - Ah yes... you see at us believe that the person thinks the head.

  Nettle chewed lips, being surprised about itself immensity of delusions,

  occurring at different tribes. He knew well that think of and

  knowledge is located at the person in a breast.

  And Tilorn, having used his confusion, efficiently approached to

  the road, unless to the hero on a purse, silver armor, ran a long finger

  on flickering plates also told:

  - I see, you cover an armor with silver and, probably, occasionally

  gold. If you want, the master Krapiva, I would offer you other coverings,

  erecting not less reliable barrier to a rust and very beautiful.

  Tell whether you have acquaintances among skinners and weavers?

  - Well... - hesitated the Nettle. - Perhaps will also be found... At whom skin

  I take...

 
; - Then... only do not consider again as if I extort! Whether they paint

  skin and fabrics only one juice of herbs or, maybe, are applied Khimich...

  other substances? Let's tell, the red or yellow crystals which are well dispersing

  in water and very poisonous? They serve for a tanning and still in order that

  paint kept stronger. Especially blue, gray, black...

  - Yes what is only not stirred, - evasively answered the Nettle, but also

  the poor hint appeared enough. Dark eyes of Tilorn inflamed

  hunting enthusiasm:

  - Order, the kind master to get such crystals yes order at

  the glass maker several deep bowls from good glass, pure and

  transparent. I will show you how to saturate the surface of iron with another

  the metal which is not afraid even of sea water!

  - To saturate? - the bronnik did not believe. - Iron! What there will be absorbed?

  To you not a board to olifit it...

  - You see - Tilorn began to explain, - iron, as well as other

  substances, consists of the smallest, parts hidden with the naked eye. At

  certain conditions it is possible...

  - You are a sorcerer! - announced the Nettle and dawned on itself the Sliding Cross,

  driving away possible filth. - Leave!

  - He is not a sorcerer, - the Wolfhound told. - It is the scientist. - Thought and added:

  - Did not see how it undertook silver? For iron?. - A nettle was silent, and

  The wolfhound tapped of Tilorn on the shoulder: - Went. I still wanted to look at onions.

  - Wait a moment, - the master suddenly raised a hand. - Kindly, I put bowls, bought

  your poison... farther that?

  Tilorn demanded a birch bark rag more and than on it to draw.

  Came to an end in what the Nettle is oath promised the Wolfhound to feed

  Tilorna at own expense grow dark, and then to send two unot, that is

  pupils, that in an integrity and safety took the wise man home. And

  The wolfhound went to the master archer, having fearlessly left the friend of one

  at strangers. He knew: The nettle will make everything as promised, and whether it is necessary to speak,

  nobody even a finger will touch Tilorn. Because to offend the person, for

  which intercedes veins, - all the same that in an ice-hole on Sveta’si in the winter

  naked to jump. With a big stone on a neck.

  Morning came. The wolfhound was in Krom when the sun only just

  showed fiery edge because of a neboskat. The yawning adolescents in gate

  passed it, without having asked about anything. It is visible, were anticipated.

  The wolfhound came in new clothes and in the chain armor slightly seeming from

  cover sleeves. Adolescents behind his back exchanged glances, thinking that it not

  will notice. He did not begin to turn around.

  In the yard it was still deserted, only in the povayena loudly laughed to something

  young cooks and from a shield where there was a grain furnace, there was wonderful

  spirit of the keeping-up pechev. The wolfhound crossed the yard, stood near already

  familiar porch, then sat down on a step.

  At heart at it it was not especially cheerful. Last night Tilorn awakened

  at last Mysha from hibernation and solemnly declared that the small animal can again

  to fly. At the same time it screwed one more unclear word: "technically".

  The wolfhound asked that it meant, and Tilorn explained: wing supposedly

  absolutely recovered, neither badly accrete bones, nor rough hems.

  Even muscles almost did not weaken because Mysh was very mobile, pugnacious

  and all the time tried to fly up...

  Trouble only, Mysh persistently refused to understand that he is healthy. If

  earlier he did not wish to recognize himself for the cripple at all, endlessly broke

  in flight, it rasshibatsya and indignantly shouted, now it as was changed: it

  first of all whisked to the Wolfhound for a bosom and long sat out there,

  scaredly sobbing. When he at last grew bolder and the Wolfhound got out outside,

  shook it from a palm over a soft bed:

  - Fly, the little fool.

  Mouse fell, even without having tried to develop wings. Also .zaplakat so that

  the puppy drew in a tail and plaintively began to whimper. Tilorn shook the head, told

  something in unknown language, was taken by Mysha in hand and created a miracle. It

  looked to a small animal in eyes, and the shining beads at once dimmed as

  happens at drunk. Mysh began to yawn, but did not fall asleep. Tilorn slightly

  pushed him a finger:

  - Fly.

  Mouse flushed now, from an otvychka clumsily rose under a ceiling and

  returned.

  - It can fly, - Tilorn told. - But does not want. Is afraid. I forced

  it for a while to forget fear, and it departed. But that it absolutely ceased

  to be afraid - here it is necessary to work...

  And whether it was necessary to cut, the Wolfhound thought. Somehow would live

  century...

  - To take it for a paw and to throw out in a window, - Evrikh advised. - That

  other choice was not. Niilit squealed, and the Wolfhound gloomy warned:

  - I will throw out you. Perhaps too you will learn to fly.

  And left that now he left Mysh at home: you never know that uchudit in

  the most unnecessary moment. The Mouse did not want to remain. It was necessary to Tilorn again

  to ship it in a light slumber...

  Door loops were well greased, but the Wolfhound in good time distinguished

  senile steps and shuffling of a broom. It raised the head, already knowing that

  there will be not a knesinka. And precisely. On a porch appeared dried, wrinkled

  the old woman, probably, who was old enough to be the mother to lame Varokh.

  - Hi, the grandmother, - the Wolfhound told. The old woman threw it

  unexpectedly sharp-sighted, distrustful look also hissed, threatening with a broom:

  - See, seated, shameless!. And well, go from here! Go here...

  The wolfhound submissively rose and receded aside. The grandma pokropit

  also began to sweep with water already pure porch. Especially it

  worked a wormwood broom where he just sat. Slave,

  the Wolfhound thought. But such slaves have owners on one floor board on

  tiptoes go. Nurse, probably. Not otherwise, the monarchess a knesinka in a cradle

  swung, or perhaps and the knes. Or to his spouse...

  - You, perhaps, our girl guardian? - the old woman inquired.

  - Truly, the grandmother, - the Wolfhound nodded. - But whether you will tell...

  He wanted to ask whether there will be madam soon, estimating, as if

  to manage to be thrown by a word with the boyar Krut. But the old woman with effort

  unbent a crooked back again to frighten him a broom:

  - At-at-at you... - And with that disappeared in a log hut.

  The wolfhound thoughtfully scratched a nape and again sat down on reddish

  marongovy step.

  After a while again steps were heard. This time went

  man. It came nearer from round the corner, from the army house.

  Something very much was not pleasant to a wolfhound in his gait, but, he so far

  reflected that, at a porch Luchezar showed himself.

  Here whom the Wolfhound wanted to see less.

  - Something easy riders different became constant visitor... - having seen it, immediately

  told Left. The wolfhound answered nothing. Only indifferently looked on

  the boyar and again stared to himself under legs. To a
nswer it was not enough yet.

  - And well to rise, a dog when the hero talks to you! - rose

  Luchezar.

  In all Galirada, probably, ten people would hardly be gained,

  understanding the Vienna signs of a sort, and the young boyar to their number it is obvious not

  belonged. Otherwise, wishing to offend the Wolfhound, he would not call at all

  his dog. To a wolfhound it became almost ridiculous, but he told nothing again.

  And, of course, it done not poshevelnutsya.

  The conversation could come far, but that time both were lucky. Door

  the strong young hand opened: the knesinka of Elen was on the threshold.

  The wolfhound rose at once, bowing to the monarchess. Left did not bow. It

  looked only at the Wolfhound, without looking away, and in his look was

  death.

  - Leave, Luchezar! - the knesinka told. - This is my bodyguard. It

  sits here because I so ordered.

  Left lowered long eyelashes and when again raised them, on a face was

  already absolutely other expression. Languid and contemptuous.

  - And, here it that, - he spoke is lazy. - I did not know, the sister. And

  why, I think, to the easy rider to stick out here? Still will steal that...

  Knesinka quickly and with a fright was lop-sided on the Wolfhound. That stood as

  the deaf, with a wooden face.

  - Do not offend him, he deserved nothing it, - she told Luchezar.

  Also turned to the bodyguard: - And you what you are silent?

  The wolfhound shrugged shoulders:

  - So I on service, the monarchess. I guard you... but not from

  any talker... - Left, in the life probably not heard

  the similar address, for an instant grew dumb, and the Wolfhound slowly, with pleasure

  finished: - Here if he on you took in head to intend, I to him at once

  tore off the head.

  The fist of the boyar was thrown to his chin, but the held-up palm

  extinguished blow. The wolfhound fully owned art to enrage

  the rival, it seems without doing him harm, but also to touch itself not

  allowing. Luchezar tried to get its left, but veins rejected a hand

  the boyar, and then caught his elbows and squeezed to sides. The wolfhound knew

  hundreds of tricks allowing to twist Left are far more reliable and simpler. It

  purposely chose the most unprofitable. Was not enough at once yet to show

  To Luchezar everything on what he, the Wolfhound, was capable. Let Luchezar

 

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