"Brown,.Mary.-.Unicorn's.Ring.2.-.1994.-.Pigs.Don't.Fly" - читать интересную книгу автора (Brown Mary)terror of AH Hallows' night and marching down the road with the demons at her
heels and the witches swooping around her head. But no one had appeared. Doors remained bolted and barred, shutters firmly closed. Those who had heard my wild passage had probably hid beneath the bedclothes, crossed themselves and been convinced that at last all their fears walked abroad in ghastly form and that to look on such would snatch what little wits they had away forever. And in the morning, when they saw what remained of the cottage, with luck they might think it had all been a ghastly accident, and that I had been immolated with Mama. Of course, once the embers had cooled down and they could rake through the ashes they would probably realize what I had done and make some sort of search for meЧbut by that time I hoped to be well away beyond their reach. My stomach gave a great growling lurch, reminding me it had had nothing since I couldn't remember when. I didn't remember eating a thing last night, so those cheese pasties must have oeen the last thing to comfort it. I scrabbled among the wreck of my belongings on the sledgeЧit had tipped over twice last night and scattered everythingЧand at last found twice-baked bread, cheese and a slice of cold bacon. Washing it down with water from my flask, I refilled the same from the stream nearby, determined next to sort out the things I Had brought. But I was still hungry. I couldn't think straight PIGS DON'T FLY 43 without something else in my stomach. After all, to someone who was used to breaking her fast with gruel, goat's milk, bread and cheese, ham, an egg or two and honey cakes, this morning's scraps were more of an aggravation than a Searching among the debris I found a heap of honey cakes I had forgotten about. I gobbled down one, two, three.... That was enough; I should have to go easy. I couldn't be sure when I would come upon the next village. Well, perhaps just one more: that would leave an even numberЧeasier to count. Feeling much better, the stiffness of the night nearly gone, I spread out my belongings on the grass. The sledge looked the worse for wear; too late I remembered it was due to be renewed as soon as possible: the carpenter had promised to make new runners. I should just have to nope it would carry my belongings as far as the High Road, then I would have to think again. Even now, there must be at least something I could leave behind to lighten the load. An axe for chopping wood: I couldn't do without that. Tinder, flint andkindling, also necessary. Lantern, candles, couldn't do without those either. The smallest cooking pot, with a lid that would double as a griddle, a ladle, large knife and small one, spoon, two bowls and a mug. Essentials. Water flask, small jug, blanket, rope, couldn't do without those, either. Clothes? I was wearing as much as I could, but surely I still needed the two spare shifts, ditto drawers and stockings? My father's comfortable green cloak, pattens for the wet, clothes for my monthly flow, comb, needles, thread and strips of leather for mending clothes and shoes. Packets oT dried herbs and spices, seeds for planting when I finally reached my destinationЧonion, garlic, chive, rosemary, dill, bay, thyme, sage, turnip, marjoramЧand a small pestle and mortar. Which brought me to the food. A small sack of flourЧ bread to eat ifnothing elseЧa crock of salt, bottle of oil, pot of honey, jar of fat, pack of oats. And |
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