Читать книгу Return of the Border Warrior - Blythe Gifford - Страница 9

Silent as moonrise, sure as the stars, Strong as the wind that sweeps Carter’s Bar. Sure-footed and stubborn, ne’er danton nor dun’

That’s what they say of the band Brunson Descendant of a brown-eyed Viking man Descendant of a brown-eyed Viking man.

The ballads echoed in the hills along the Borders for so long that some confused them with the wind’s song. After a while, no one knew how long they had been sung. No one knew the people, now gone, who had been sung of. They knew only the whisper of the legend, as much a part of the land as the scent of heather in the autumn. And just as delicate.

But once, long ago, the songs were new and the people, real.