Читать книгу Immortals. Twin princesses, Ella and Elle. Black Wings of the Night - Сергей Соловьёв, Ар'лан ис'Дрекхэм - Страница 9

— Well, young man! Doing well! — confidently said the foreman of the boat to a very young fellow, — but what can I say! Great benefit from you, Olen!

— Right, you say, Irn! — added the merrier sitting next to him, — smart guy! I got my hand. And look, just like new! — and played with his fingers, almost hidden under a clean rag.

— Yes, when there was a new one, Clever! Yes, you yourself are older than this boat!

— Nothing, Dar. Although old, stuck! And the boat is excellent, sewn conscientiously, where good!

Irn just grinned quite a bit. The old one says correctly, right… And the craftsman Capray himself sewed them with a rook, what a good rook! He assembled the frame of the vessel from well-fitted oak bars, and sewed the sides of the boat from the best seal skins. Here is their boat, like a sea beast, and cannot sink, and in the very storm of water does not fall. And how many storms have been, and that’s all, let’s nip their little girl!

— Exactly! — added a third, — and the back is now like a young one! For our artel, such a witch doctor is very good. Otherwise, Golovan, Magi, is busy. We are not alone for him, others also use.

— Well, it means that they decided so! And you agree, Gunei, and you are Dar, and you, Umil?

— Yes, all the community agrees, — the elderly Umil answered decorously, — you sensibly realized, Irn!

“So be it! — and the foreman slapped the boy’s thin shoulder, — you are with us, in our artel!

— Thank you, Foreman Irn, and you, merry artels, — Olen said, carefully getting up so as not to fall while pitching, — I will not let you down!

— Here, well done! — approved Abil and laughed, — sit down, sit down soon on the bench, otherwise you will fall!

“That’s right, grandfather! And how do we now without a healer? — added Guney, looking at his comrades, — we must also take a walk at your wedding!

Olen blushed his face a lot from such words, which made the tongued merrier even more pleased. The artelshiks laughed cheerfully, pleased with the fence joke. Irn just grinned, but took up the rook rule more firmly. Their ship went up the river, in general formation. And there was still a day to go three, no less. Indeed, mother Ob spoiled, the wind was passing, but not strong, and the path from Warta was not difficult. And now, it turned out, there was no cloud in the sky, no cloud. The foreman looked ashore, noticing the badges of the banners of soldiers from Warta.

Detachment after detachment rode along the Ob, and military supplies were loaded on the rooks, and they were dragged along the shore by the sword. Warta’s army was considerable, almost thirty hundred riding soldiers stood under the banner of the governor Likon. Yes, and on the ships there were convoys, those who were supposed only to help the horsemen, but to guard the camp, there were almost a thousand of them. Here, among these warriors, were the artisans of Irna, and among them Olen.

***

The sun, having played enough with fluffy clouds that became scarlet from the fierce touches of the luminary, tired itself. It left, hid behind distant forests, staining the sky in the west with ardent crimson. Guney and Umil hammered sharpened timber into the coastal sand. Blows with wooden hammers were fast and dexterous, so that the sharpened point quickly sank into the ground.

Well, the belt holding their rook while holding Irn himself. Meticulously followed the work of the artisans, and personally wound a strong belt around a seemingly reliably clogged beam. Then he twitched whether he was standing firmly, checking himself. You couldn’t rely on chance here.

— Well, foreman, is it good? — said and very seriously Clever, suddenly slapping his cheek.

— Why, decided to punish himself? Irn chuckled.

— Not for anything, like.. The mosquito is… — and showed, holding prey by a tiny wing.

— Let go, — the foreman quipped, — you can’t boil a stew out of this. Let’s go, we’ll help put up tents.

The artisans set up two tents exactly, stretched the ropes, scored stakes. Two, began to cook. The fire was already burning, and the boiler hung over the brightly flaming logs. Olen, sat down next to Dar, checking the bandage on his arm, and has already changed the plantain to fresh. The foreman just sighed, but patted his mustache with satisfaction.

— Everything, in practice, it seems… he said, looking around the camp.

— And then, Irn! Everything is in order. Soon the stew will be ready, — said Guney, shaking off the sand from his pants.

— Let’s see… As we eat, we will put the guards out all night, so that we would stand in threes, with bows and clubs. And leave one on the boat, more ceiling…

— Irn, I’ll watch the boat, — Olen suddenly turned.

— Well… But, look in both eyes… — said the foreman, and almost menacingly shook the brush with his index finger exposed, looking at the boy with obvious doubt, — keep the weapon at the ready, you never know that the Bowstring is superimposed on the bow, and the arrow would lie nearby… Oum is not far away, which means that strangers can fall on us. They are nimble warriors, you won’t hear right away…

— Be alone Irn, I won’t let you down!

— Okay, eat, take your bag and or on the boat.

Olen nodded, and sat down with the others by the fire. Here he was endowed with a full bowl of delicious brew from fish and barley cereals. The stew came out tight, as much as a spoon stood. Irn, like a foreman, tried the brew first, soaked his lips. appreciated.

— It turned out well. You can eat, — he deeply appreciated

— And then! But what do not say, and Harei cooks a stew better than yours! ‘called the rubbish Guney.

— Nothing, then you cook in the field for everyone. How will we be on the campaign, right, eh? — Harey objected cockily.

— So it will come out, — the artist evaded the answer.

Such words caused another explosion of laughter. To tell the truth, no one refused the stew, the artless cooking was not poured into the sand of the camp. Ate Spoons on bowls knocked fast. Yes, that evening the artisans ate quickly, saved time for sleep. They knew that they would raise them before dawn, and this was the last day crossing to Oum.

***

Olen looked at how Vataga was having dinner, and he himself ate slowly and slowly, often throwing fish bones into the river. Then he got up from the bench, calmly washed the bowl and spoon with sand, climbed onto the boat, and sat down, inspecting the river bank, swallowed from a wooden flask of grass infusion, and stretched chilly. Evening fog spread over the river, and it became cold. The boy hastily wrapped himself in a felt blanket, and then it became much more pleasant. The air now seemed not dank, but simply invigorating, the breeze was not piercing, but only fresh and pleasant. I didn’t want to sleep yet, but he still put rye cracker in the area. Quite a pleasant treat, especially if soaked in water. And when you eat, you don’t want to sleep, Olen only learned this on a hike.

And then, put the plate on the bench, and it seemed that the water splashed. He looked carefully overboard, behind which the calm water surface also turned black, not far from last year’s reeds, which had long lost their hats, stood in an even formation. True, it seemed that two of them, as if not to the beat of the wind, were swinging. Olen quickly grabbed the bow, and without hesitation, launched three arrows one after another. Heard two screams, yes from the water, all in the river

grass, a man rushed at him. There was no time to think, Olen hit the unknown on the head with a heavy oar.

And here, from a high bank, as if hearing these screams, strangers rushed to the camp of the Khansa. Arrows whistled, darts fell, puncturing the fabric of tents with copper stings, or went into the sand, burrowing deeply, trembling, as if with resentment. However, the guards were at the ready. Horns honked, calling the Hanza to arms. Well-aimed arrows and streets flew in response, a fight ensued.

Olen, I didn’t yawn here. Migom put a flexible shield on his left hand, covering his back, again took up the bow, and began to fire arrows, knocking the running strangers to the ground. And they shot back, and saw that they hit. Gunei was shot in the leg and Harei in the arm. The artisans grabbed the strangers in hand-to-hand combat, and the desperate Irn smashed the enemies with his club, on a long, almost fathom, handle. But, all one thing, the ship’s rati had a hard time, because horse warriors had already come to the aid of strangers. Olen has never seen such, but there was no time to be surprised. Warriors were already retreating to the boats, as a terrible roar of battle horns rang out over the night forest, and hundreds of Hanza peaks fell upon strangers. The warriors, on large and strong moose, immediately overturned the horse army of strangers into the water, and began to beat the enemies, giving no mercy to anyone. They stabbed and chopped, tired the shore killed, so that the dead lay on the dead. Only a few, abandoning horses, rushed into the water, hoping to escape. But several rooks followed them, and the warriors of the ship’s rati beat and drowned strangers with oars. Olen jumped out of the boat, noticed that the one whom he stunned with an oar was trying to get ashore. Wheezing, but trying to get up, falls back, choking on water. Then Olen pulled this man ashore by the collar, and twisted his hands behind his back with a strong belt.

I saw several prominent soldiers on moose approaching them, with a band of troops. Among all stood out, shining with copper armor in the sun, the governor of all rati Vara, Likon. Then one of the riders dismounted, and came closer.

Olen turned very pale, but he was going to give a dragonfly, like a gray hare who noticed a wolf in the bushes. But I didn’t have time.

“I didn’t expect that,” Radko said calmly, without anger, removing the helmet from his sweaty head, “what’s your name, well done?”

— So Olen… — the young warrior answered quietly.

— Young, but he knew how and brave, — Irn who came up began to praise his fighter, — the first alarm raised. So, he caught the enemy scout, — and poked a club in the shaft lying on the ground, — both smart and good… And he cured two patients in Vatag.

— Really? Radko chuckled, the herbalist, then?

“The magician is simple,” Irn smiled.

— Well, this is the case, foreman, — the approaching leader intervened in the conversation, — since such an intelligent one, let the military work cope with the healers and healers. He has nothing to rotate the oar, fill the corns on his palms. It is unreasonable to plow everything like earth on a crane.

— So of course, Licon… — reluctantly agreed with the leader Irn, — let him gather… And the prisoner, drown, or what? What is the gap to feed?

The prisoner tried to get up, but he could not straighten himself, and writhed like a caught fish. Finally, everyone was tired of looking at such attempts, and Radko put him on the sand. Likon himself with curiosity, slowly and meticulously, as if buying a cow, looked around the stranger, suddenly laughed, but in a rush of feelings he hit his knees. What surprised even his dry, twisted horned head.

Olen looked at the bound stranger, not really understanding what was the matter. What’s the catch? A mop of black wet hair on the head, pants made of thin skin, a jacket made of felt, with generic signs at the gate. There was nothing of the kind. Well, the boots are embroidered, patterned thread, were good, I bet not.

— So you know who you are… ‘he stumbled for a second,” he took? So this is Manis himself the son of the leader Sabaday. I saw his father very young, the Princess Alma released him from the field, on parole, that she would not fight. Deceived, see, Sabaday…

“What are you saying! The word given to the greatest Alba is sacred! My father did not lie, but twenty years have passed. Well, without the Dead Princess, we can defeat you!

— You are looking, you talked like a real one, — Likon grinned, — Radko, went the messenger to Oum, the way will give the news to foreman Savir that we have Sabaday’s son, Manis in our hands. And to you… Here, a reward, — he turned to Olen, and put a gold bracelet in his hand.

“And I’ll pay you, girl! — shouted a stranger, — I must stay with you that I did not kill!

In such a crowd, the artelshiki did not understand what they were talking about. Guney, the man twisted his finger at his temple, they say, the boy was damaged by his mind, everywhere now the girls are imagining.

Irn was surprised, but did not show it. In the meantime, Dar let down the skate captured in battle, on which the leader’s son, captured, was seated. One of Licon’s warriors took this horse under the bridle, and the other rode behind.

— Okay Olen, say goodbye to your own, yes, come to the wagon train of our rati, — the leader said slowly and calmly, — the Magi Golovan and the Chosen One herself, Kida with her notes will be waiting for you. Unotkami,, that is… And this, — and the foreman quickly tied the nodes of the message, but sealed it, — you will give it yourself, personally, to Kid… Look, don’t forget!

And Likon looked so attentively and expressively at the youth that he did not dare to talk.

— Well, — quietly, without arguing, Olen answered, — now, I’ll only tie my own… How can I leave them?

The foreman, agreeing, nodded. He and his retinue slowly drove around the shore, as if looking, which he did not lose. Finally, he turned around, and wanted to drive up to Olen, but he thought about it.

The riders left, and he, the artel healer, set to work. Not like heavy, like nervous. I had to get used to it in order to teach myself to persuade the wounded that everything would be fine, the pain would soon go away. The person sat next to him, looked into the eyes of the doctor, and had to not only trust the treatment, but BELIEVE. Medicine. Just washing and sealing wounds, applying good herbs, and wrapping clean rags with blood on the bodies of tired soldiers, all this was much easier…

The rest of the artisans were engaged in an important matter — collecting prey from bodies, stripping to nudity, and throwing the dead into the river. They put their own dead separately, wrapped them in burlap, put on belts to hang them on the upper branches of trees, according to the old custom. And, to the joy of the whole artel, a lot of good has accumulated… There are eighteen pairs of boots alone, but ten pairs of chobots. Daggers, about twenty, clubs with a short shaft as much as thirty. Olen did not hide his eyes when he saw this. Having finished everything, and having said goodbye, he slowly wandered to the wagon train of the heavy rati Varta.