"Brown,.Mary.-.Unicorn's.Ring.2.-.1994.-.Pigs.Don't.Fly" - читать интересную книгу автора (Brown Mary)

see little clay men running round with bits broken and chipped off them, crying
out that the Almighty Potter had not shaped them right or had made the kiln too
hot or too cold, andЧ
"Hey, there! Wake up, girl!"
Suddenly the sun had gone. I opened my eyes and there, towering over me, was the
awesome bulk of a caparisoned horse, snorting and champing at the bit. Still
half-asleep I scrambled to my feet and backed up the bank, wondering if I was
still dreaming.
"Which way to the High Road?"
The horse swung round and now the sun was in my eyes again. I dropped down to
the road, and was seemingly surrounded by a party of horsemen who had obviously
just ridden along the ride out of the forest. Hooves stamped, harness jingled,
men cursed and I was about to panic and run for home, when the face of the man
on the caparisoned horse swam into view and I felt as though I had been struck
by lightning.
He was the handsomest man I had ever seen in my life. It was the eyes I noticed
first, so dark and deep a blue they seemed to shine with a light all their own.
Dark brows drawn together over a slight frown, a high, broad forehead and crispy
dark hair that curled down unfashionably to his collar. His skin was faintly
tanned, his nose straight; there was a little cleft in his rounded chin and his
mouthЧah, his mouth! Full and sensual, wide and mobile ... I remembered
afterwards broad shoulders, wide chest and long, well-muscled legs, but at the
time I could only stare spellbound at his face.
Someone else spoke, a man who was probably one of his retainers, but the words
didn't register. I couldn't take my eyes off his master.
The mouth opened on perfect teeth and the apparition spoke.
PIGS DON'T FLY
19
"I asked if you knew the way to the High Road."
"She's maybe a daftie, Sir Oilman...."
I shook my head. No, I wasn't a daftie, I just couldn't speak for a moment. I
nodded my head. Yes, I did know the way to the High Road. I was conscious of the
sweat pouring from my race, an itch on my nose where a fly had alighted, could
feel an ant run over my bare toeЧ
"If you follow the lane the way I have come"ЧI pointedЧ"you will come to the
village. If you take the turning by the church you will have to follow a track
through the forest, but it is quicker. Otherwise go across the bridge at the end
of the village, past the miller's, and there is a fair road. Perhaps four miles
in all." I didn't sound like me at all.
He smiled. "And that is the way to civilization?"
I stared. Civilization was here. Then I remembered my manners and curtsied. "As
you please, sir. . .."
He smiled again. "Thank you, pretty maid...."
And in a trample of hooves, a flash of embroidered cloth, a half-glimpsed
banner, he and his men were gone clattering down the lane.
I stood there with my mouth open, my mind in a daze. He had called me "pretty
maid"! Never in my wildest imaginings had I conjured up a man like this! Oh, I
was in love, no doubt of it, hopelessly, irrevocably in love... .
I must tell Mama at once.
I hugged his words to my heart like a heated stone in a winter bed as I raced