- It is possible and hasten their justice! - the Wolfhound told.
Nobody noticed the movements, just the sword somehow removed from
the untied sheath in his left hand. The figured blade was silvered in
cloudy light, specifying directly in a breast Luchezara. It was the call on
duel. On God's Court.
Day passed midday line. It is better for God's Court to be made
in total at dawn, so far the sky is not turbid sins of people and young God yet
The sun looks at the world in morning glory, full of strength and readiness
to look after terrestrial justice. Rest of day and all night long to poyedinshchik
it was necessary to carry out in except, in lonely cages. There they will be
to fast, reflect and talk to Gods.
The wolfhound did not manage even to glance home, in Varokh's workshop.
Policemen surrounded also it, and and led Luchezar in fortress. All saw:
Luchezar strode with the raised head, veins gloomy looked under legs.
Was not enough yet to stumble in broad daylight and to irritate wounds!
On a cage threshold Bravlin held the Wolfhound for a shoulder:
- You, veins, give weapon here... Till tomorrow let in a sanctuary
will lie down.
Both remembered how Bravlin already tried to take away from him a sword half a year
back.
- Weapon, - the Wolfhound quietly told, - I will give only a knesa, or
to knesinka, or boyar Krugu.
- Now to you! - one of young policemen sniffed. - Here so directly
the sovereign pripozhalut here!
The wolfhound answered with an equal voice, without moving a little:
- Then take away.
The guy did not want to contact him: was, it is visible, it has heard a lot about
outrage which this of veins made from time to time.
- Go, - the foreman told it. - Call Milovanycha.
At this time Attalik approached them. The boy seemed to the Wolfhound
considerably grown up. It was felt not in a bearing, not in width
shoulders, it is rather - in a look, in expression of eyes.
- And you will give me, the Wolfhound? - asked young сегван. - I am an eldest son
Koons, and my sort any will not concede in this city!
Buckles of belts were not especially convenient for the left hand. Wolfhound,
having tinkered, undid them and stretched to Attalik two sheath - with fighting
knife and with a sword. He knew: the boy will die rather, than will allow
to somebody to touch weapon. Especially to spoil it.
Policemen settled down near a door and all night long looked for
Wolfhound through a door crack. You never know, suddenly will begin to conjure,
to create a black indecency. And curiously besides.
They saw how veins, having sat a little on a bench, rose, very much
carefully pulled down a warm jacket and began to do some movements. Skilled
soldiers understood at once that he prepared for fight. What he made
suggested an idea both of dance, and of a religious rite. Slow dance
gradually became complicated, became grozny. Policemen stuck to a crack -
come the foreman, would behold heels of the bent backs. The wolfhound as if met
someone, pressing with weapon, caused it on blows, caught them and
reflected, then knocked out a sword from an enemy palm... also finished a suprotivnik.
Finished cruelly and terribly, without the slightest mercy. And all this is the left hand.
Policemen perfectly knew what fighter was Luchezar. At first they believed,
that it joking will finish with wine. Now consulted and changed
the opinion. The duel with one-armed will hardly seem to Luchezar of the nursery
entertainment. At least, to be interchanged the position by it with the boyar at all not
there was a wish.
The window in a cage, even volokovy, was not: the felling settled down inside
embankments under an earth wall of Krom. The wolfhound went about the own business in
poor blinking of a splinter. Then, to final amazement of policemen,
it slowly turned the developed palm towards svetets. And spark,
trembling at distance of two arshins, went out as blown. Still
guys only heard about it. It was not necessary to see.
The wolfhound to whom svetets was not especially and is necessary with satisfaction nodded
in the dark. Having pulled out a zagasshy splinter from an iron rasshchep of svetets, it
tired out it between logs, - for Mysh. It was wrapped in a raincoat and went to bed.
The father Volkodava did not every day weapon, but the son remembered, how in
the guest house of a sort nice soldiers, purposely coming stopped
to order a blade of the well-known Vienna figured from the smith Mezhamir
became. It was legible. Mezhamir. No payment would induce it
to create a sword for the angry, thuggish person or the rich idler,
dreamed of a precious toy. Not everything is on sale for money, not all
it is bought. The sword - is sacred. In it the Truth of Gods.
Grey Dogs were the best smiths in the ancient time and now. Did not happen
dissatisfied with Mezhamir's skill. He was able not only to weld wonderful
and to turn steel се into a kind blade, it was capable itself and to show everything,
what that blade was capable of. Rusogolovy Mezhamirov of the firstborn in such
days from a smithy was not to expel. In all eyes looked for the father, endeavored
to adopt science to which it, on an unreasonable trifle of years; meanwhile not
allowed. The lad did not dream to be closed up by the hero at all and to follow for
fighting knes. He will be a smith as the father. But unless can veins
to be called the man if does not know from what party at a sword a handle?
He so waited for age of courage, dreaming to give a system and an order to scraps
the picked-up knowledge to comprehend that vast in itself and around that gives
the right to be called the soldier and husband's...
In night of defeat Mezhamir died from the arrow which struck in a back. It and
did not take a sword, but, one against many, he did not follow the shooter,
selected behind. And the smith's son when soul with the first coped
despair of bondage, understood: that arrow, not differently, merciful directed
Gods. What would be become with the father, begin to try to obtain the Cannibal from him slavish
works?. In other cage would sit, opposite to Tilorn?.
In a stone quarry the Grey Dog amazed associates, having got strange
usage: when the day lesson and izmochalenny people came to an end
dead settled on a stone floor somehow to chew tasteless
food and immediately to fall asleep, the bony youth began to jump to and fro,
swinging the imagined sword. At first threw in it breed fragments:
rumble of chains did not allow to fall asleep. Then once he was called up by silent
monomatanets with a body it is brilliant - black as if turned from a stone
krovavika. Miner cough already finished it, dogryzat the last scraps
lungs.
"I was a soldier, - he told the Grey Dog, - Watch how it becomes at
us..."
Monomatanets died in two days. He became the first of many mentors,
met by the Grey Dog in seven years in bondage. However, their science is not enough
helped it with infinite fights with supervisors. Because
the imagined opponent, also differs from the present as a thought about
death -
from Her. And still because very few people created
fighting ways counting on blocks and chains, and the Grey Dog at that time about them
even did not suspect...
At night Mysh found a crack under a lintel, got out and went
on hunting. Having woken up before dawn, the Wolfhound lowered bare feet on
birch bark floor, carefully combed hair a bone comb, rose on
knees also began to pray. Generally veins seldom bit the dust before the
Gods. Because Light Gods want that people reached for them up, but not
crept on a belly for fear. But now the Wolfhound called not Gods. It
talked to the mentors. And the mentor is the same person,
as you, are only wiser and better. So before it not a sin to incline
head and knees.
The come-back Mysh heatedly screeched, having hung over the head
Wolfhound. Venn held up it a palm. To a pad of a small animal it was tied
the birch bark scrap which is strong drawn by a thread.
"Our lovely Wolfhound! - with fragile heart it sorted accurate
solvennsky letters. - We so love you. You will surely win. And for
us do not worry".
The signature was not, but veins did not need it. As it was poor it
he would learn literacy, a hand of Niilit from one thousand.
Nobody ever sent it letters... He wanted to read a note
once again, but lines for some reason blurred before eyes.
The middle of the floor space of Galirad was never encumbered by trays and
tents. And the wooden pavement was not timbered and here even not
board, as near Krom. The middle of the square was covered by oak
hexagonal checkers. There hung on two columns ringing beat which
unfairly offended called the people. There, on the outspread carpet,
was located the capitals of the monarchess of a knesinka when it accepted again
the arrived merchants. There priests, the announcing truth put the scaffold
Twin gods. There also the court was made if it was talked of business
considerable. Not about a simple lawsuit, as then at the Wolfhound with Varokh.
Today's business, undoubtedly, demanded supervision of Gods. And,
of course, presence of all citizens young and old. Of humble origin
the bodyguard of a knesinka accused the notable boyar of intention against young
monarchesses. And even caused it on a duel though at most - all this
saw - the right hand hung in a popular print. Strong, so believed also in himself, and
in the correctness. Something will be!.
The people who had a grudge against Luchezar Luginich in the city was
there is enough. But unsociable veins as it is surprising, was in time
to get hot supporters. And in the velkhsky end, and on craft
streets, and among city guards. And even in a team. The people still to
dawn dammed the floor space. The youth, as usual, stocked up
red-hot nuts and cookies. Those who did not take from the house were glad
to supply sharp-witted peddlers. Old men took out folding small benches. People
waited.
As soon as the sun rose, from Krom it seemed
solemn procession. Very first, on a favourite bay stallion, rysit
Sense Nesmeyanovich, gloomy as cloud. After knesy - the boyar Krut and
chosen team. In the middle of a team two poyedinshchik went. Luchezar on
the raven, with Kanaon and Plishka in armourbearers. And the Wolfhound on Serka.
Attalik concentrated and pale after sleepless night, carried his sword.
At night the boy ventured to nominate him on a half-finger from a sheath and
to consider a pattern on a wonderful blade. Now he was afraid, as if Gods not
became angry for willfulness. Well though that did not dare to touch!
The warrior Ertan kept a round red board of work of the master Varokh.
The board, however, went to the square more for form's sake and beauty. To hold
it in a fight with the enemy, the hand is required. And the Wolfhound had a hand now
one.
The wolfhound smoothly rose and fell in a saddle, trying not
to shake a sore shoulder. And so now will not be a little why to veredit in vain.
He sharp-sightedly rummaged around a look crowd, looking for familiar faces. Familiar faces so far
there was a little. Unless the boy baker with a tray on belt
slings. Those who really were going to wish it success in fight,
for certain already located on the square. The wolfhound sincerely was surprised,
having noticed that to it people, with which it never even waved a hand
greeted. He thought and attributed it to general dislike for the boyar
To Luchezar.
Galiradsky priests did not encroach on indispensable mediation between
people and Gods. They only drew equal on the rough bridge square
the circle for a duel, was drawn the oak coal purposely brought from
sanctuaries in a small brazier. The people only wondered: priests, young
also is more senior, took the glowing coals naked fingers and did not burn. Place
God's Court it had to be pure. And evil force, as we know, anything
so does not run as fire, iron and a kind oak.
Having come out to the square, poyedinshchik dismounted and rose before knesy, already
occupied a fitting place on a red stolets. It seemed to a wolfhound that
To Nesmeyanovich it was identical to sense to look precisely both at it, and on
Left. What not to understand here! The hanged man from those about whom in is
Speak to Galirada nobody and to call in any way, and declares as if the person,
whom you grew up at yourself on a lap, took in head to intend against you. Yes
still undertakes to prove it!.
Knes nodded to the Circle, and the boyar began to speak.
Many of citizens went to the coast yesterday, the others were in detail
have heard a lot. However the Truth demanded to announce business in detail. It is abrupt reminded
to the people as brought together security group for a knesinka as put Luchezar
over it voivode. And how the young monarchess employed to herself in
bodyguards a vein, called by the Wolfhound. Also wished that it
by all means accompanied it on a travel.
- Then already, - told It is abrupt, - it was visible that at these two the friend
the friend of trust on a penny. The boyar at all called a vein the thief, and veins
refused to take in helpers of people who were brought by Luchezar Luginich...
The wolfhound noticed in crowd for the five of the members of household, and near them -
hefty unot of the master Krapiva, and at heart felt better. He tried
to stretch mentally to friends and again, as in memorable day of departure,
felt a warm touch of reason of Niilit, and then and Tilorna. They from
all forces were wished it by victories. And very much were afraid for it though tried it
not to show.
Right meanwhile read to people Luchezar's letter. In the people was heard
indignant grumble. Probably, the letter seemed to someone unscrupulously
false. Or, on the contrary, convincing. Eventually, it and most
almost convinced the sovereign of a knes. The wolfhound listened indifferently. Was not enough yet
to fly into a rage before fight.
It is abrupt raised a hand, calling galiradets for silence and an order, and became
to read Vinitar's letter, having explained that this message was wanted to be stolen
road. The letter was approximately such what was expected
by the Wolfhound.
Vinitar impartially stated everything to what he witnessed. And also
testimonies of captured robbers - the fact that they shouted under torture, before
than they were abandoned in the Obstacle. The letter did not give the grounds in something
to accuse the Wolfhound, but fight at the bridge was described, perhaps, even with
prikrasam: here Vinitar used stories of eyewitnesses. From
suspicious the letter contained only a mention of a sword which somebody
allegedly promised to return to the predatory leader.
- It is about your sword, the Wolfhound? - asked Right. - It
belonged before Zhadobe?
The wolfhound thought a little, then gloomy answered:
- You stood at the monarchess's throne when she created court about this sword.
It was necessary to remind the Circle to people and a knes also of how the master Varokh
"recognized" in Zhadobu's Wolfhound and what from this turned out:
- The monarchess justified a vein and told that she from now on sees this sword in
good hands.
The sense Nesmeyanovich sat silently, but the Wolfhound noted about himself that
the palm of a knes ironed an oak hand-rail of a stolets, squeezed it so,
that the strong tree was ready to crack. The boyar Luchezar was stout
such advantage as if it it, but not a Wolfhound tried
it is unfair to blame. Venn attentively looked after him, catching
the slightest signs capable to tell it about corporal health and
Luchezar's intentions. Also it was soon convinced that faithful adolescents after all
transferred to allegedly fasting leader a bowl of wine and a grain of gray powder.
One and only. That to a limit feelings and reason became aggravated, and
each muscle played by terrible force. That shoulders of the boyar bugritsya
under a raincoat so as if it practised with a sword at half of the night. When Luchezar
for a moment met it views, the Wolfhound finally understood that not
was mistaken. Bloodshot eyes and pupils as two pin heads.
The wolfhound even on penal servitude remembered what the person in it is capable of
state.
The third time in one summer I fight in God's Court... - it was thought a vein.
But for the first time - for the honor. Though from what party to look at it...
The sense Nesmeyanovich rose to the feet, and the people became agitated. Began!.
Bloody Revenge Page 68